XXX Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [26 October 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Another lesson on prayer from Jesus in the Gospel, and what a lesson! 

   First Reading from the Book of Sirach (35:15b-17, 20-22a)

 'God does not judge by appearances' (Sir 35) The book of Sirach, written by Ben Sira around 180 BC in Jerusalem, was born in a time of peace and cultural openness under Greek rule. However, this apparent serenity hides a risk: contact between Jewish and Greek culture threatens the purity of the faith, and Ben Sira intends to transmit the religious heritage of Israel in its integrity. The Jewish faith, in fact, is not a theory, but an experience of covenant with the living God, discovered progressively through his works. God is not a human idea, but a surprising revelation, because 'God is God and not a man' (Hos 11:9). The central text affirms that God does not judge according to appearances: while men look at the outside, God looks at the heart. He hears the prayer of the poor, the oppressed, the orphan and the widow, and – in a wonderful image – 'the widow's tears run down God's cheeks', a sign of his mercy that vibrates with compassion. Ben Sira teaches that true prayer arises from precariousness: when man discovers himself to be poor and without support, his heart truly opens to God. Precarity and prayer are of the same family: only those who recognise their weakness pray sincerely. Finally, the sage warns that it is not outward sacrifices that please God, but a pure heart disposed to do good: What pleases the Lord above all is that we keep away from evil. The Lord is a just judge, who does not show partiality, but looks at the truth of the heart. In summary, Ben Sira reminds us that God does not judge by appearances but by the heart, that authentic prayer arises from poverty, and that divine mercy is manifested in his compassionate closeness to the little ones and the humble.

Responsorial Psalm (33/34:2-3, 16, 18, 19, 23)

 Here is another alphabetical psalm, i.e., each verse follows the order of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. This indicates that true wisdom consists in trusting in God in everything, from A to Z. The text echoes the first reading from Sirach, which encouraged the Jews of the second century to maintain the purity of their faith in the face of the seductions of Greek culture. The central theme is the discovery of a God who is close to human beings, especially those who suffer: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted." This is one of the greatest revelations of the Bible: God is not a distant or jealous being, but a Father who loves and shares in human suffering. Ben Sira poetically said that "our tears flow down God's cheeks": an image of his tender and compassionate mercy. This revelation is rooted in the journey of Israel. In the time of Moses, pagan peoples imagined rival and envious gods. Genesis corrects this view, showing that suspicion of God is a poison, symbolised by the serpent. Through the prophets, Israel gradually came to understand that God is a Father who accompanies, liberates and consoles, the 'God-with-us' (Emmanuel). The burning bush (Ex 3) is the foundation of this faith: 'I have seen the misery of my people, I have heard their cry, I know their sufferings'. Here God reveals himself as the One who sees, listens and acts. He does not remain a spectator, but inspires Moses and his children with the strength to liberate, transforming suffering into hope and commitment. The psalm reflects this experience: after undergoing trials, the people proclaim their praise: "I will bless the Lord at all times" because they have experienced a God who listens, liberates, watches over, saves and redeems. The name "YHWH," the "Lord," indicates precisely the constant presence of God alongside his people. Finally, the text teaches that in times of trial it is not only permissible but necessary to cry out to God: He is attentive to our cry and responds, not always by eliminating suffering, but by making himself present, reawakening trust, and giving us the strength to face evil. In summary, the psalm and the reflection that accompanies it give us three certainties: God is close to those who suffer and hears the cry of the poor. His presence does not take away the pain, but illuminates it and transforms it into hope. True faith comes from trust in this God who sees, hears, frees and accompanies man at all times.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to Timothy (4:6-8, 16-18)

 "The good fight" (2 Tim 4:6-18). The text presents St Paul's last spiritual testament, written while he was in prison in Rome, aware that he would soon be executed. The letters to Timothy, although perhaps composed or completed by a disciple, contain his authentic words of farewell, imbued with faith and serenity. Paul describes his imminent death with the Greek verb analuein, which means 'to untie the ropes', 'to weigh anchor', 'to dismantle the tent': images that evoke the departure for a new journey, the one towards eternity. Looking back, the apostle takes stock of his life using the sporting metaphor of running and fighting: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." Like an athlete who never gives up, Paul has reached the finish line and knows that he will receive the "crown of righteousness," the reward promised to all the faithful. He does not boast about himself, because this crown is not a personal privilege, but a gift offered to all those who have lovingly desired the manifestation of Christ. The 'just judge', God, does not look at appearances but at the heart — as Sirach taught — and will give glory not only to Paul, but to all those who live in the hope of the Lord's coming. The apostle's life was a constant race towards the glorious manifestation of Christ, the horizon of his faith and his service. He recognises that the strength to persevere does not come from him, but from God himself: 'The Lord gave me strength, so that I might fulfil the proclamation of the gospel and all nations might hear it'. This divine strength sustained his mission, enabling him to proclaim Christ until the end. Paul explains that Christian life is not a competition, but a shared race, in which each person is called to run at their own pace, with the same ardent desire for the coming of Christ. In his letter to Titus, he defined Christians as those who “wait for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ” — words that the liturgy repeats every day at Mass. In his hour of trial, Paul also confesses the loneliness of the apostle: The first time I made my defence, no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be held against them (v. 16) . Like Jesus on the cross and Stephen at the moment of his stoning, he forgives and transforms abandonment into an experience of intimate communion with the Lord, who becomes his only strength and consolation. Paul is the poor man of whom Ben Sira speaks, the one whom God listens to and consoles, the one whose tears flow down God's cheeks. His final words reveal the hope that overcomes death: "So I was delivered from the lion's mouth. The Lord will deliver me from all evil and bring me safely into heaven, and save me in his kingdom" (vv. 17-18). He does not speak of physical deliverance - he knows that death is imminent - but of spiritual deliverance from the greatest danger: losing faith, ceasing to fight. The Lord has kept him faithful and given him perseverance until the end. For Paul, death is not defeat, but a passage to glory. It is the birth into true life, the entrance into the Kingdom where he will sing forever: 'To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.'

In summary: The text presents Paul as a model of the believer who is faithful to the end. He experiences death as a departure towards God, not as an end. He looks at life as a race sustained by grace. He recognises that strength and perseverance come from the Lord. He understands that the reward is promised to all who desire the coming of Christ. He forgives those who abandon him and finds God's presence in solitude and weakness. He sees death as a passage into the glory of the Kingdom. Paul's "good fight" thus becomes the struggle of every Christian: to remain faithful in trials, to the point of running the last stretch with our gaze fixed on Christ, the source of strength, peace and hope.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (18:9-14)

A small preliminary observation before entering into the text: Luke clearly tells us that this is a parable... so we must not imagine that all the Pharisees or all the tax collectors of Jesus' time were like those described here. No Pharisee or tax collector perfectly matched this portrait: Jesus actually presents us with two very typical and simplified inner attitudes to highlight the moral of the story. He wants us to reflect on our own attitude, because we will probably recognise ourselves now in one, now in the other, depending on the day. Let us move on to the parable: last Sunday, Luke already offered us a teaching on prayer; the parable of the widow and the unjust judge taught us to pray without ever becoming discouraged. Today, however, it is a tax collector who is offered as an example. What relationship, one might ask, can there be between a poor widow and a rich tax collector? It is certainly not the bank account that is at issue, but the disposition of the heart. The widow is poor and forced to humble herself before a judge who ignores her; the tax collector, perhaps wealthy, bears the burden of a bad reputation, which is another form of poverty. Tax collectors were unpopular, and often not without reason: they lived in a period of Roman occupation and worked in the service of the occupiers. They were considered 'collaborators'. In addition, they dealt with a sensitive issue in every age: taxes. Rome set the amount due, and the tax collectors advanced it, then received full powers to recover it from their fellow citizens... often with a large profit margin. When Zacchaeus promises Jesus to repay four times as much to those he has defrauded, the suspicion is confirmed. Therefore, when the tax collector in the parable does not dare to raise his eyes to heaven and beats his breast saying, 'O God, have mercy on me, a sinner', perhaps he is only telling the plain truth. Being true before God, recognising one's own fragility: this is true prayer. It is this sincerity that makes him 'righteous' on his return home, says Jesus. The Pharisees, on the other hand, enjoyed an excellent reputation: their scrupulous fidelity to the Law, fasting twice a week (more than the Law required!), regular almsgiving, all expressed their desire to please God. And everything the Pharisee says in his prayer is true: he invents nothing. But, in reality, he does not pray. He contemplates himself. He looks at himself with complacency: he needs nothing, asks for nothing. He takes stock of his merits — and he has many! — but God does not think in terms of merit: his love is free, and all he asks is that we trust him. Let us imagine a journalist at the exit of the Temple interviewing the two men: Sir, what did you expect from God when you entered the Temple? Yes, I expected something. And did you receive it? Yes, and even more. And you, Mr Pharisee? No, I received nothing... A moment of silence, then he adds: But I didn't expect anything, after all. The concluding sentence of the parable sums it all up: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." Jesus does not want to present God as a moral accountant who distributes rewards and punishments. He states a profound truth: those who exalt themselves, that is, those who believe themselves to be greater than they are, like the Pharisee, close their hearts and look down on others. But those who believe themselves to be superior lose the richness of others and isolate themselves from God, who never forces the door of the heart. We remain as we were, with our human 'righteousness', so different from the divine. On the contrary, those who humble themselves, who recognise themselves as small and poor, see superiority in others and can draw on their wealth. As St Paul says: 'Consider others superior to yourselves.' And this is true: every person we meet has something we do not have. This perspective opens the heart and allows God to fill us with his gift. It is not a question of an inferiority complex, but of the truth of the heart. It is precisely when we recognise that we are not 'brilliant' that the great adventure with God can begin. Ultimately, this parable is a magnificent illustration of the first beatitude: 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven'.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

He Called to Himself: emergency by Name, before than around

(Lk 6:12-19)

Lk reflects the double direction of worship in primitive communities: Prayer as a significant openness to the Father and internal celebration among disciples (vv.13-17) - and the public Proclamation with works, to the people.

The community is close: God is in our history. The idea of a distant Kingdom produces separations, pastorally inconsistent pyramids, and dispersive cultivation of interests.

In short, it’s crucial to mature first, wherever we live.

Whoever cultivates many cravings projects them; he causes his own murky influences. For this reason Prayer and reflection are necessary, which - from Listening - transmit to us the sense of our being in the world and a right disposition.

It seems a paradox, but concern for the needs of the multitudes is a problem exquisitely rooted in the depths.

It is from oneself and from the community that we look with empathy at the world itself, knowing how to recover its opposite sides.

It is the Way of the Interior that penetrates and activates the way of the outside.

Thus we immerse ourselves in the Source of Being: to shift our hasty gaze. He who is not free cannot free.

The only wise way to scrutinize far is to stick to the reason for things, a principle that we actively know, if not misled by superficiality and reductions.

Understanding the nature of creatures and conforming to them in a growing way, everyone is inspired to transmute and complete, enriching even the cultural sclerosis without alienating forcing.

All this, activating a practice of goodness even with oneself.

Not to distinguish the moment of the Vocation from that of the ministerial Sending: the way of Heaven is intertwined with the path of the Person.

It’s in short to approach the sense of the missional uniqueness of each Apostle that Jesus spends an entire night in Prayer (v.12).

Most of the early followers have names typical of Judaism, even of the time of the Patriarchs - which indicates a mental and spiritual extraction rooted more in ancient religion than in the new Faith: reality not easy to manage.

But also for them the Lord releases his full strength of Life, despite the fact that in themselves they were ordinary individuals, full of limits.

However, the Kingdom is «local and universal» [Fratelli Tutti, nn.142-153], Near and by Name - as the Gospel passage from Lk.

This is the multiple force, biting, incomparable, close and personal, which wins any possibility of ideal sabotage [because of adverse circumstances].

Power drawn both from direct prayer to the Father in Christ - in his night Listening (v.12) - and from the works of love (vv.17-19).

Powers in personal, sensitive, shared symbiosis.

Mission not only for excellents, nor unilateral, but for a restless contagion.

Announcement of new Light received in Gift: where precisely not a single form or colour appears.

And the Axis is for us: hiding sometimes with Him.

«This is what tradition was subsequently to formulate in the well-known saying: "Contemplata aliis tradere" (cf. St Thomas, Summa Theologiae, IIa-IIae, q. 188, art. 6)» [Pope Benedict].

To internalize and live the message:

In your experience, which chain united Heaven and earth?

[St  Simon and Jude, October 28]

The double address of worship, but the Axis is to be with Him

(Lk 6:12-19)

"He went out to the mountain to pray and spent the night in prayer to God" (v.12).

"And the whole crowd sought to touch Him, for a Power went out from Him and healed all" (v.19).

Lk reflects the double direction of worship in the primitive communities.

First, the Prayer as a significant opening to the Father and internal celebration among disciples (vv.13-17). Then the public proclamation (with works) to the people.

The community is close: God is in our history.

The idea of a distant Kingdom produces separations, (pastorally) inconsistent pyramidal hierarchies. Sometimes, dispersive cultivation of internal interests passed off as great sensitivity and altruism.

In short, to walk seriously alongside oneself and others, it is essential to first mature, wherever we live.

This applies to taking different initiatives; even possibly to rebelling against the stagnant landscape that likes to return to old-fashioned securities.

In this way, there may be less than noble motives for wanting to get everywhere at once, to run everywhere to make proselytes, and to do so out of opposition, without a "dream of friendship" [cf. encyclical Fratelli Tutti, passim].

For he who cultivates many lusts, projects them; he procures his own murky influences.

That is why prayer and reflection are necessary - indispensable also to Jesus (v.12) - which give us the sense of our being in the world, the Father's vision, and a right disposition.

Deep meditations and spontaneous prayers annihilate infidelities that do not offer genuine life, authentic motives, or values of the spirit.

Prayers undermine and demolish the dehumanisations, the emotions that alienate us and alienate us from our brothers, the pitfalls that tend to build other temples and shrines.

The same charge of universality and 'sense of urgency' are contained in the rootedness to values conveyed by dialogue with God. And his Mystery (for us), in relationships, in intimate self-knowledge.

Indeed... stimuli, virtuous principles, gaps and hidden sides are complementary energetic aspects.

It seems a paradox, but the interest in the needs of the multitudes is an issue exquisitely rooted in the intimate, not at all external.

It is from oneself and from the community that one looks at the world with empathy, knowing how to recover its opposites.

It is the Way of the Interior that interpenetrates and activates the Way of the Exterior.

This is how we willingly pray: to immerse ourselves in the vibrant Source of being, and to shift our hasty gaze.

By contrast and hindrance, the habitual partiality that "gets in the way" does not grasp the value of the social and cultural polyhedron.

On the other hand, unfortunately, it is only by loving strength that one prefers to start from the too distant.

One must first heal what is intimate and close. He who is not free cannot emancipate anyone.

Thus, the only way to peer into the distance is to stick to the reason of things - the principle that one actively knows, if not misled by superficialities and reductions [individualistic or monovalent, one-sided and club-like].

By understanding the nature of creatures and increasingly conforming to it, all are inspired to transmute and complete themselves.

A non-alienating process that also enriches possible cultural sclerosis, without hysterical or external forcing.

All this, practising goodness even with oneself.

The Tao (XLVII) says: "Without going out the door, you know the world; without looking out the window, you glimpse the Way to Heaven. The farther you go, the less you know. That is why the saint does not go around and yet knows, does not see and yet discerns, does not act and yet completes".

It is only from the Source of being - the common home - that an undissociated, all-saved life springs forth, one that effectively endures and can expand. 

Are we a sign of dedication and striving people? We do not do this for 'merit' or to gain sympathy.

Without being a cult, after a good training - which also imparts to us a wise tolerance, from the world within.

No extrinsic purpose, which would lose its soul and bring no change.

Not to distinguish the moment of Vocation from the moment of ministerial sending.

The way to Heaven is intertwined with the way of the Person and with the way of Nature ["like a sister, with whom we share existence, and like a beautiful mother who welcomes us into her arms": Laudato Si', no.1] or we will be busybodies.

None of the Apostles - ordinary people - were worthy of the Call (vv.13-15).

To understand this, and approach the meaning of their missional uniqueness, Jesus must spend an entire night in prayer (v.12).

Most of the first followers have names typical of Judaism, even of the time of the Patriarchs - indicating a mental and spiritual background rooted more in the ancient religion than in the new Faith; baggage not easy to handle.But even for the undecided, the Lord unleashes his power of full Life, precisely because he is an absolutely ordinary person full of limitations; not infrequently perplexed, even open opponents.

Peter was eager to come forward, though often backtracking - backtracking - to the point of becoming for Jesus a 'satan' [(Mt 16:23; Mk 8:33): in the culture of the ancient East, an official of the great ruler, sent to act as a controller and delator - practically an accuser].

James of Zebedee and John were brothers, ardent fundamentalists, and in a wrathful manner wanted the Master for themselves alone, as well as the first places.

Philip [conditioned perhaps by a Hellenistic extraction, as his name indicates] at first sight did not seem a very practical fellow, nor quick to grasp the things of God.

Andrew, on the other hand, seemed to do well: an inclusive person.

According to well-known traditional identifications, Bartholomew was perhaps open but perplexed, because the Messiah did not correspond to him much.

Thomas always a little in and a little out.

Matthew - a collaborator, greedy accomplice of the oppressive system, and willingly extorting money from his people [the people ruthlessly condemned him].

Simon - the zealot, the Canaanite - a hothead.

Judas Iscariot a tormented, self-destructive for trusting old spiritual leaders - imbued with nationalist ideology, self-interest, opportunism and power.

Two others (James the younger son of Alphaeus, and Judas Thaddeus) mere disciples perhaps of no great prominence or capacity for initiative.

But the Kingdom is "local and universal" [Fratelli Tutti, nn.142-153], Near and by Name - as the Gospel passage from Lk.

This is the manifold, grasping, incomparable, close and precisely personal power that overcomes any possibility of ideal sabotage (due to adverse circumstances).

Power drawn both from prayer directed to the Father in Christ - in his nightly Listening (v.12) - as well as from works of love (vv.17-19).

Power in personal, sensitive, shared symbiosis.

Not for the excellent alone... or even in the time of global emergency there will be no healing work (v.19) but only external, accusatory and aimed at propaganda, proselytism.

Announcement and Mission of new Light received in Gift: where precisely not a single form or colour appears.

And the Axis is "being" with Him.

"This is what tradition has then formulated with the well-known expression: 'Contemplata aliis tradere' (cf. St Thomas, Summa Theologiae, IIa-IIae, q. 188, art. 6)". [Pope Benedict].

For a contagion that is neither alarmist nor one-sided, monochromatic, but flourishing, multifaceted, sometimes 'hidden', and restless.

To internalise and live the message:

In your experience, what chain has united heaven and earth?

The (accusatory) list and effort of transgressions to be neurotically corrected?

Or a personal Calling, inclusive of your many faces in the soul - a Vocation supported by a Church that became an echo and a free Source of all-round understanding?

The Church was built on the foundation of the Apostles as a community of faith, hope and charity. Through the Apostles, we come to Jesus himself. The Church begins to establish herself when some fishermen of Galilee meet Jesus, allowing themselves to be won over by his gaze, his voice, his warm and strong invitation:  "Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men" (Mk 1: 17; Mt 4: 19). 

At the start of the third millennium, my beloved Predecessor John Paul II invited the Church to contemplate the Face of Christ (cf. Novo Millennio Ineunte, n. 16 ff.). Continuing in the same direction, I would like to show, in the Catechesis that I begin today, how it is precisely the light of that Face that is reflected on the face of the Church (cf. Lumen Gentium, n. 1), notwithstanding the limits and shadows of our fragile and sinful humanity.

After Mary, a pure reflection of the light of Christ, it is from the Apostles, through their word and witness, that we receive the truth of Christ. Their mission is not isolated, however, but is situated within a mystery of communion that involves the entire People of God and is carried out in stages from the Old to the New Covenant. 

In this regard, it must be said that the message of Jesus is completely misunderstood if it is separated from the context of the faith and hope of the Chosen People:  like John the Baptist, his direct Precursor, Jesus above all addresses Israel (cf. Mt 15: 24) in order to "gather" it together in the eschatological time that arrived with him. And like that of John, the preaching of Jesus is at the same time a call of grace and a sign of contradiction and of justice for the entire People of God. 

And so, from the first moment of his salvific activity, Jesus of Nazareth strives to gather together the People of God. Even if his preaching is always an appeal for personal conversion, in reality he continually aims to build the People of God whom he came to bring together, purify and save. 

As a result, therefore, an individualistic interpretation of Christ's proclamation of the Kingdom, specific to liberal theology, is unilateral and without foundation, as a great liberal theologian Adolf von Harnack summed it up in the year 1900 in his lessons on The essence of Christianity:  "The Kingdom of God, insofar as it comes in single individuals, is able to enter their soul and is welcomed by them. The Kingdom of God is the dominion of God, certainly, but it is the dominion of the holy God in individual hearts" (cf. Third Lesson, 100 ff.). 

In reality, this individualism of liberal theology is a typically modern accentuation:  in the perspective of biblical tradition and on the horizon of Judaism, where the work of Jesus is situated in all its novelty, it is clear that the entire mission of the Son-made-flesh has a communitarian finality. He truly came to unite dispersed humanity; he truly came to unite the People of God.

An evident sign of the intention of the Nazarene to gather together the community of the Covenant, to demonstrate in it the fulfilment of the promises made to the Fathers who always speak of convocation, unification, unity, is the institution of the Twelve. We heard about this institution of the Twelve in the Gospel reading. I shall read the central passage again:  "And he went up into the hills and called to him those whom he desired; and they came to him. And he appointed twelve to be with him, and to be sent out to preach and have authority to cast out demons. The names of the twelve Apostles are these..." (Mk 3: 13-16; cf. Mt 10: 1-4; Lk 6: 12-16). 

On the site of the revelation, "the mount", taking initiative that demonstrates absolute awareness and determination, Jesus establishes the Twelve so that, together with him, they are witnesses and heralds of the coming of the Kingdom of God. 

There are no doubts about the historicity of this call, not only because of the antiquity and multiplicity of witnesses, but also for the simple reason that there is also the name of Judas, the Apostle who betrayed him, notwithstanding the difficulties that this presence could have caused the new community. 

The number 12, which evidently refers to the 12 tribes of Israel, already reveals the meaning of the prophetic-symbolic action implicit in the new initiative to re-establish the holy people. As the system of the 12 tribes had long since faded out, the hope of Israel awaited their restoration as a sign of the eschatological time (as referred to at the end of the Book of Ezekiel:  37: 15-19; 39: 23-29; 40-48). 

In choosing the Twelve, introducing them into a communion of life with himself and involving them in his mission of proclaiming the Kingdom in words and works (cf. Mk 6: 7-13; Mt 10: 5-8; Lk 9: 1-6; 6: 13), Jesus wants to say that the definitive time has arrived in which to constitute the new People of God, the people of the 12 tribes, which now becomes a universal people, his Church.
Appeal for Israel 

With their very own existence, the Twelve - called from different backgrounds - become an appeal for all of Israel to convert and allow herself to be gathered into the new covenant, complete and perfect fulfilment of the ancient one. The fact that he entrusted to his Apostles, during the Last Supper and before his Passion, the duty to celebrate his Pasch, demonstrates how Jesus wished to transfer to the entire community, in the person of its heads, the mandate to be a sign and instrument in history of the eschatological gathering begun by him. In a certain sense we can say that the Last Supper itself is the act of foundation of the Church, because he gives himself and thus creates a new community, a community united in communion with himself. 

In this light, one understands how the Risen One confers upon them, with the effusion of the Spirit, the power to forgive sins (cf. Jn 20: 23). Thus, the Twelve Apostles are the most evident sign of Jesus' will regarding the existence and mission of his Church, the guarantee that between Christ and the Church there is no opposition:  despite the sins of the people who make up the Church, they are inseparable.

Therefore, a slogan that was popular some years back:  "Jesus yes, Church no", is totally inconceivable with the intention of Christ. This individualistically chosen Jesus is an imaginary Jesus.

We cannot have Jesus without the reality he created and in which he communicates himself. Between the Son of God-made-flesh and his Church there is a profound, unbreakable and mysterious continuity by which Christ is present today in his people. He is always contemporary with us, he is always contemporary with the Church, built on the foundation of the Apostles and alive in the succession of the Apostles. And his very presence in the community, in which he himself is always with us, is the reason for our joy. Yes, Christ is with us, the Kingdom of God is coming.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 15 March 2006]

1. A priestly, sacramental, prophetic community, the Church was established by Jesus Christ as a structured, hierarchical and ministerial society, in function of the pastoral governance for the formation and continuous growth of the community. The first subjects of this ministerial and pastoral function are the twelve Apostles, chosen by Jesus Christ as the visible foundations of his Church. As the Second Vatican Council says, "Jesus Christ, the eternal Shepherd, built up the holy Church and sent the Apostles as He Himself was sent by the Father (cf. Jn 20:21), and He willed that their successors, that is, the bishops, should be shepherds in His Church until the end of time" (LG 18). This passage from the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church - Lumen Gentium - reminds us first of all of the original and unique position of the Apostles in the institutional framework of the Church. From the Gospel story we know that Jesus called disciples to follow him and from among them he chose twelve (cf. Lk 6:13).

The evangelical narration makes us know that for Jesus it was a decisive choice, made after a night of prayer (cf. Lk 6:12); a choice made with a sovereign freedom: Mark tells us that Jesus, having ascended the mountain, called to himself "those whom he wanted" (Mk 3:13). The Gospel texts record the names of the individuals called (cf. Mk 3:16-19 et par.): a sign that their importance was perceived and recognised in the early Church.

2. By creating the group of the Twelve, Jesus created the Church, as a visible structured society at the service of the Gospel and the coming of the Kingdom of God. The number twelve referred to the twelve tribes of Israel, and Jesus' use of it reveals his intention to create a new Israel, the new people of God established as the Church. Jesus' creative intention transpires from the same verb used by Mark to describe the institution: 'He made twelve . . . He made the twelve'. "Make" recalls the verb used in the Genesis account about the creation of the world and in Deutero-Isaiah (Is 43:1; 44:2) about the creation of God's people, ancient Israel. The creative will is also expressed in the new names given to Simon (Peter) and James and John (Sons of Thunder), but also to the group or college as a whole. In fact, Luke writes that Jesus "chose twelve, to whom he gave the name of apostles" (Lk 6:13). The Twelve Apostles thus became a characteristic, distinct and, in some respects, unrepeatable socio-ecclesial reality. In their group emerged the Apostle Peter, about whom Jesus manifested more explicitly his intention to found a new Israel, with the name given to Simon: "stone", on which Jesus wanted to build his Church (cf. Mt 16:18).

3. Jesus' purpose in establishing the Twelve is defined by Mark: "He made twelve of them to be with him, and also to send them out to preach, and that they might have power to cast out demons" (Mk 3:14-15). The first constitutive element of the group of the Twelve is therefore an absolute attachment to Christ: they are people called to "be with him", that is, to follow him, leaving everything behind. The second element is the missionary element, expressed on the model of the mission of Jesus himself, who preached and cast out demons. The mission of the Twelve is a participation in Christ's mission by men closely linked to him as disciples, friends, trustees.

4. In the mission of the Apostles, the evangelist Mark emphasises "the power to cast out demons". It is a power over the power of evil, which in a positive sense means the power to give men the salvation of Christ, the One who casts out the "prince of this world" (John 12, 31). Luke confirms the meaning of this power and the purpose of the institution of the Twelve by quoting the word of Jesus giving the Apostles authority in the Kingdom: "You are the ones who have persevered with me in my trials. And I lay down for you a kingdom as the Father has laid down for me" (Lk 22:28). Also in this statement, perseverance in union with Christ and the authority granted in the kingdom are intimately linked. It is a pastoral authority, as is evident from the text on the mission specifically entrusted to Peter: 'Shepherd my lambs . . . Shepherd my sheep" (John 21: 15-17). Peter personally receives supreme authority in the shepherding mission. This mission is exercised as participation in the authority of the one Shepherd and Master, Christ. The supreme authority entrusted to Peter does not cancel the authority given to the other Apostles in the kingdom. The pastoral mission is shared by the Twelve under the authority of the one universal Shepherd, mandatary and representative of the Good Shepherd, Christ.

5. The specific tasks inherent in the mission entrusted by Jesus Christ to the Twelve are the following: a) mission and power to evangelise all nations, as the three Synoptics clearly attest (cf. Mt 28:18-20; Mk 16:16-18; Lk 24:45-48). Among them, Matthew highlights the relationship established by Jesus himself between his messianic power and the mandate he gave to the Apostles: "All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations" (Mt 28:18). The Apostles will be able and must carry out their mission by the power of Christ manifested in them. b) mission and power to baptise (Mt 28:19), as the fulfilment of Christ's mandate, with a baptism in the name of the Most Holy Trinity (Ibid), which will be carried out in the name of the Most Holy Trinity (Ibid). Trinity (Ibid), which, being linked to the paschal mystery of Christ, in the Acts of the Apostles is also considered as baptism in the name of Jesus (cf. Acts 2:38; 8:16). c) mission and power to celebrate the Eucharist: "Do this in memory of me" (Lk 22:19; 1 Cor 11:24-25). The commission to redo what Jesus accomplished at the Last Supper, with the consecration of the bread and wine, implies a power of the highest level; to say in the name of Christ: "This is my body", "this is my blood", is almost an identification with Christ in the sacramental act. d) mission and power to forgive sins (Jn 20:22-23). It is a participation of the Apostles in the power of the Son of Man to forgive sins on earth (cf. Mk 2:10): that power which in Jesus' public life had caused the astonishment of the crowd, of which the evangelist Matthew tells us that they "gave glory to God who had given such power to men" (Mt 9:8).

6. To fulfil this mission, the Apostles received, besides power, the special gift of the Holy Spirit (cf. Jn 20:21-22), which was manifested at Pentecost, according to Jesus' promise (cf. Acts 1:8). By virtue of this gift, from the moment of Pentecost they began to fulfil the mandate of evangelising all peoples. The Second Vatican Council tells us this in the Constitution Lumen Gentium: "The Apostles . . . preaching everywhere the Gospel, accepted by the hearers through the motion of the Holy Spirit, gather together the universal Church, which the Lord founded on the Apostles and built on blessed Peter, their head, while Jesus Christ himself is its cornerstone (cf. Rev 21:14; Mt 16:18; Eph 2:20)" (LG 19).

7. The mission of the Twelve included a fundamental role reserved for them, which would not be inherited by others: to be eyewitnesses of the life, death and resurrection of Christ (cf. Lk 24:48), to transmit his message to the primitive community, as a hinge between divine revelation and the Church, and for this very reason to initiate the Church in the name and by virtue of Christ, under the action of the Holy Spirit. For this function of theirs, the Twelve Apostles constitute a group of unique importance in the Church, which since the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Symbol is defined as apostolic (Credo una sanctam, catholicam et 'apostolicam' Ecclesiam) because of this indissoluble link to the Twelve. This explains why also in the liturgy the Church has included and reserved special solemn celebrations in honour of the Apostles.

8. However, Jesus conferred on the Apostles a mission of evangelisation of all nations, which takes a very long time, and indeed lasts "until the end of the world" (Mt 28:20). The Apostles understood that it was Christ's will that they should provide successors, who, as their heirs and legates, would carry on their mission. They therefore established "episcopes and deacons" in the various communities "and arranged that after their death other approved men should receive their succession in the ministry" (Clement of Rome, Ep. Ad Cor., 44, 2; cf. 42, 1. 4). In this way Christ established a hierarchical and ministerial structure of the Church, formed by the Apostles and their successors; a structure that did not derive from a previously established community, but was created directly by him. The Apostles were, at one and the same time, the seeds of the new Israel and the origin of the sacred hierarchy, as stated in the Council's Constitution Ad Gentes (AG 5). This structure therefore belongs to the very nature of the Church, according to the divine plan realised by Jesus. According to this same plan, it has an essential role in the entire development of the Christian community, from the day of Pentecost to the end of time, when in the heavenly Jerusalem all the elect will fully participate in the 'New Life' for eternity.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 1 July 1992]

"Prayer and witness" are the "two tasks of the bishops" who are "pillars of the Church". But if they weaken, the whole people of God suffers. That is why, Pope Francis asked during the mass celebrated on Friday morning 22 January in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta, we must pray insistently for the successors of the twelve apostles.

The Pontiff's reflection on the figure and mission of the bishop started from the passage from the evangelist Mark (3:13-19) proclaimed during today's liturgy. "There is a word in this Gospel passage that attracts attention: Jesus 'constituted'". And this word "appears twice". In fact, Mark writes: "'He constituted twelve, whom he called apostles'". And then he resumes: 'He therefore constituted the twelve', and names them, one after the other'. Therefore, the Pontiff explained, 'Jesus, among so many people who followed him - the Gospel tells us - "called to himself those he wanted"'. In short, 'there is a choice: Jesus chose those whom He wanted'. And, indeed, "he constituted twelve. Whom he called apostles'. In fact, Francis continued, "there were others: there were the disciples" and "the Gospel speaks of seventy-two, on one occasion". But 'these were something else'.

The "twelve are constituted so that they might be with Him and to send them out to preach with the power to cast out demons," the Pope explained. "This is the most important group that Jesus chose, 'so that they might be with Him', closer, 'and to send them out to preach' the Gospel." And "with the power to cast out demons," Mark further added. Precisely those 'twelve are the first bishops, the first group of bishops'.

These twelve 'chosen ones,' Francis noted, 'were aware of the importance of this election, so much so that after Jesus had been taken up into heaven, Peter spoke to the others and explained to them that, given Judas' betrayal, it was necessary to do something'. And so from among those who had been with Jesus, from John's baptism until his ascension, they chose "a witness 'with us' - says Peter - of the resurrection". Here, continued the Pope, that "the place of Judas is filled, it is taken by Matthias: Matthias is chosen".

Then "the liturgy of the Church, referring to "some expressions of Paul", calls the twelve "the pillars of the Church". Yes, said the Pontiff, 'the apostles are the pillars of the Church. And the bishops are the columns of the Church. That election of Matthias was the first episcopal ordination of the Church'.

"I would like to say a few words today about bishops," Francis confided. "We bishops have this responsibility to be witnesses: witnesses that the Lord Jesus is alive, that the Lord Jesus is risen, that the Lord Jesus walks with us, that the Lord Jesus saves us, that the Lord Jesus gave his life for us, that the Lord Jesus is our hope, that the Lord Jesus always welcomes us and forgives us." Here is 'the testimony'. Consequently, he continued, 'our life must be this: a testimony, a true testimony to the resurrection of Christ'.

And when Jesus, as Mark recounts, makes "this choice" of the twelve, he has two reasons. Firstly, "so that they might be with Him". Therefore "the bishop has the obligation to be with Jesus". Yes, "it is the bishop's first obligation: to be with Jesus". And it is true "to such an extent that when the problem arose, in the early days, that orphans and widows were not well cared for, the bishops - these twelve - got together and thought about what to do". And "they introduced the figure of the deacons, saying: 'Let the deacons take care of the orphans, of the widows'". While the twelve, "says Peter", are assigned "two tasks: prayer and the proclamation of the Gospel".

Therefore, Francis reiterated, "the first task of the bishop is to be with Jesus in prayer". In fact, "the bishop's first task is not to make pastoral plans... no, no!". It is "to pray: this is the first task". While 'the second task is to be a witness, that is to preach: to preach the salvation that the Lord Jesus brought us'.

They are 'two tasks that are not easy,' the Pontiff acknowledged, 'but it is precisely these two tasks that make the columns of the Church strong'. In fact, "if these columns weaken, because the bishop does not pray or prays little, he forgets to pray; or because the bishop does not proclaim the Gospel, he occupies himself with other things, the Church also weakens; it suffers. The people of God suffer". Precisely 'because the pillars are weak'.

For this reason, Francis said, 'I would like to invite you today to pray for us bishops: because we too are sinners, we too have weaknesses, we too have the danger of Judas: he too was elected as a pillar'. Yes, he continued, 'we too run the danger of not praying, of doing something other than proclaiming the Gospel and casting out demons'. Hence, the Pope reiterated, the invitation to "pray that the bishops be what Jesus wanted and that we all bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus".

Moreover, he added, "the people of God pray for the bishops, in every mass we pray for the bishops: we pray for Peter, the head of the episcopal college, and we pray for the local bishop". But 'this may not be enough: one says the name out of habit and moves on'. It is important "to pray for the bishop with the heart, to ask the Lord: 'Lord, take care of my bishop; take care of all the bishops, and send us bishops who are true witnesses, bishops who pray and bishops who help us, with their preaching, to understand the Gospel, to be sure that You, Lord, are alive, are among us'".

Before resuming the celebration, the Pope suggested, again, to pray "therefore for our bishops: it is a task of the faithful". In fact, 'the Church without a bishop cannot go on'. Here, then, that "the prayer of all of us for our bishops is an obligation, but an obligation of love, an obligation of children towards the Father, an obligation of brothers, so that the family may remain united in the confession of Jesus Christ, living and risen".

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 23/01/2016]

Theatrical actors and neutrality

(Lk 13:10-17)

Old and new opinions or common ideas stand in the way of life that calls, that reveals something else, that ignites passions, that wants totality, and activates transformation.

As always, Jesus is present in "synagogue" not to make codified prayers: He is among his people to «instruct» (v.10). The Lord is educating his intimates, in a very decisive way.

In the place of worship the Master finds a subordinate humanity, a panorama of minimums still harassed by the ancient religious obsession - then folded in on themselves, weary, unable to lift their heads.

The spirit of weakness that that same environment injected precisely to the sick and troubled, made the faithful of the assembly [or the habituals in it] totally passive.

A curved existence, dragged at least worse; without horizons.

Christ’s Action extracts from the addicted crowd, frees from conformity and massification. He puts back on its feet the faltering ‘woman’, who takes to praise God seriously, with joy, immediately (vv.12-13).

Figure who although "participated" in the rite, and always among the people gathered together. But before meeting the Lord personally she did not glorify the Father in a real way - nor did she honour his very existence.

No joyful expression for the healing, on the part of leaders - accustomed to inoculating in the souls a soporific climate - indeed, only condemnation. Illustrious and distant authorities.

Individualistic negotiators of the power on duty, incapable of proximity. This was also for various interests of circle, doctrine, supremacy, and institutional prestige.

Then - in the common idea - it seemed that in legalistic or rubricistic terms the sanctification of the day dedicated to the Lord excluded any involvement, and even good works!

In addition to this unhealthy belief, even touching a wounded "flesh" was imagined could make impure!

In short, the spirit of the commandment that imposed the Sabbath rest [historically born for the protection of vast social, cultic, and identity needs] had been completely manipulated and overthrown.

The logic of the young Rabbi is opposed to protocols: only the neglect of the marginalized and enslaved dishonours God.

The only non-negotiable principle is the good of the real woman and man: this is the only key to reading the Gospels.

And the rite must celebrate precisely a fraternal life of welcome and sharing, of happiness, personalization, care, love.

The rest is for Jesus an unbearable comedy, from which his church leaders must stay away: «Theatricals» (v.15) would also define them today - otherwise - our Lord.

We are worth much more than oxen and donkeys (vv.15-16).

The relationship with God is feast, healing, salvation: all concrete - fruit of choice, even social.

Spirituality not empty, and any - where the little ones are forced to delegate their dreams to others.

[Monday 30th wk. in O.T.  October 27, 2025]

Theatre actors and neutrality
(Luke 13:10-17)

Our passion for a full existence would like to guide us who knows where, but sometimes there is an external force that holds us back. A dark power that even prevents us from discovering our true nature.
The opinions of others, doctrines, customs, and common ideas, both old and new, stand in the way of the life that calls us, that makes us discover other things, that ignites passions, that wants totality, and activates transformation.
Meanwhile, the perception that we may be failing to follow the 'right' path creates external conflicts; it intimidates, causes suffering, induces guilt, and sometimes blocks the most sensitive souls.
Those who accuse us then leverage the fear of having to pay the price of freedom (of character and vocation) for any 'mistakes' we may encounter by straying from the prescribed path.
The same dynamics apply, on the one hand, to deference to customs and, on the other, to adherence to fashions, even the most sophisticated and 'up-to-date' ones.
Especially in cultures or religions without the leap of faith, all this takes root and causes discomfort; it makes us believe that we are much less than we should be.
Conversely, even if it seems that we are walking on reckless paths (but ones that belong to us), the risks could bring us joy, greater fulfilment and realisation.

As always, Jesus is present in the 'synagogue' not to recite codified prayers: he is among his people to 'teach' (v. 10).
In particular, he teaches that the Father is not in conflict with his subjects. On the contrary, he supports all his children and gives them a different posture from that of the 'animal' world - to which normal beliefs might perhaps reduce us.
At that time, no woman could participate directly in a liturgy, but in the Gospels, female figures are a parable of the people themselves [in Hebrew, the term Israel is feminine].
Luke brings a 'woman' onto the scene to allude to all oppressed figures, to whom the praying community sometimes offers no comfort or concrete action for emancipation.
People subjected to the 'cultural' paradigm of their particular environment and to the conditioning power of family tradition.
At that time, this cloak forcibly transmitted a paradigmatic spirituality that was reassuring but absolutely conformist.
The common people were completely subject to the head of the family; in addition, they were subject to political power and even enslaved to the fundamentalism of the religious authorities.
It was a humiliating, even atrocious, 'bestial' panorama.

The Lord is educating his intimates in a very decisive manner.
In the place of worship, the Master finds a subordinate humanity, a panorama of the lowly still oppressed by ancient religious obsession - therefore withdrawn, weakened, unable to lift their heads.
The spirit of weakness that this same environment instilled in the infirm made the faithful of the assembly (or those who frequented it) totally passive.
A hunched existence, dragged along as best they could, without horizons.
Christ's action draws out of the addicted crowd, frees them from conformism and massification, and puts the faltering 'woman' back on her feet, who immediately begins to praise God in earnest, with joy (vv. 12-13).
She was a figure who 'participated' in the ritual, and was always among the gathered people, but before meeting the Lord personally, she did not truly glorify the Father - nor did she honour her own existence.

There was no joyful expression of healing on the part of the religious leaders - accustomed to instilling a soporific atmosphere in souls - on the contrary, only condemnation. Distinguished and distant.
Individualistic negotiators of the power of the moment, incapable of closeness. This was also due to various interests of circles, doctrine, supremacy, and institutional prestige.
Then - in the common idea - it seemed that in legalistic or rubric terms, the sanctification of the day dedicated to the Lord excluded any involvement, and good works!
In addition to this unhealthy belief, even touching wounded 'flesh' was thought to make one impure!
In short, the spirit of the commandment that imposed rest on the Sabbath [historically created to protect vast social, cultural and identity needs] had been completely manipulated and overturned.

The young Rabbi's logic is opposed to the protocols: only the neglect of the marginalised and enslaved dishonours God.
The only non-negotiable principle is the good of real women and men: this is the only key to understanding the Gospels.
And the ritual must celebrate a fraternal life of welcome and sharing, of happiness, personalisation, care and love.
The rest is, for Jesus, an unbearable comedy, from which his church leaders must keep their distance: 'Theatre actors' (v. 15) is how our Lord would describe them even today, if not otherwise.

We are worth much more than oxen and donkeys (vv. 15-16).
Our relationship with God is a celebration, healing, salvation: all concrete - the result of choice, even social choice.
And finally, the new Magisterium also breaks away from the previous mentality, which was often diplomatic and neutral:
'Jesus' conclusion is a request: Go and do likewise (Lk 10:37). In other words, he challenges us to put aside all differences and, in the face of suffering, to draw close to everyone. Therefore, I no longer say that I have 'neighbours' to help, but that I feel called to become a neighbour to others" [Fratelli Tutti, n.81].
“Now this woman, being a daughter of Abraham […] should she not be freed from this bond on the Sabbath?” (Lk 13:16).

Spirituality that is not empty, and any kind of spirituality where the little ones are forced to delegate their dreams to others.

39. To suffer with the other and for others; to suffer for the sake of truth and justice; to suffer out of love and in order to become a person who truly loves—these are fundamental elements of humanity, and to abandon them would destroy man himself. Yet once again the question arises: are we capable of this? Is the other important enough to warrant my becoming, on his account, a person who suffers? Does truth matter to me enough to make suffering worthwhile? Is the promise of love so great that it justifies the gift of myself? In the history of humanity, it was the Christian faith that had the particular merit of bringing forth within man a new and deeper capacity for these kinds of suffering that are decisive for his humanity. The Christian faith has shown us that truth, justice and love are not simply ideals, but enormously weighty realities. It has shown us that God —Truth and Love in person—desired to suffer for us and with us. Bernard of Clairvaux coined the marvellous expression: Impassibilis est Deus, sed non incompassibilis[29]—God cannot suffer, but he can suffer with. Man is worth so much to God that he himself became man in order to suffer with man in an utterly real way—in flesh and blood—as is revealed to us in the account of Jesus's Passion. Hence in all human suffering we are joined by one who experiences and carries that suffering with us; hence con-solatio is present in all suffering, the consolation of God's compassionate love—and so the star of hope rises. Certainly, in our many different sufferings and trials we always need the lesser and greater hopes too—a kind visit, the healing of internal and external wounds, a favourable resolution of a crisis, and so on. In our lesser trials these kinds of hope may even be sufficient. But in truly great trials, where I must make a definitive decision to place the truth before my own welfare, career and possessions, I need the certitude of that true, great hope of which we have spoken here. For this too we need witnesses—martyrs—who have given themselves totally, so as to show us the way—day after day. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day—knowing that this is how we live life to the full. Let us say it once again: the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity. Yet this capacity to suffer depends on the type and extent of the hope that we bear within us and build upon. The saints were able to make the great journey of human existence in the way that Christ had done before them, because they were brimming with great hope. 

40. I would like to add here another brief comment with some relevance for everyday living. There used to be a form of devotion—perhaps less practised today but quite widespread not long ago—that included the idea of “offering up” the minor daily hardships that continually strike at us like irritating “jabs”, thereby giving them a meaning. Of course, there were some exaggerations and perhaps unhealthy applications of this devotion, but we need to ask ourselves whether there may not after all have been something essential and helpful contained within it. What does it mean to offer something up? Those who did so were convinced that they could insert these little annoyances into Christ's great “com-passion” so that they somehow became part of the treasury of compassion so greatly needed by the human race. In this way, even the small inconveniences of daily life could acquire meaning and contribute to the economy of good and of human love. Maybe we should consider whether it might be judicious to revive this practice ourselves.

[Pope Benedict, Spe Salvi]