(Mk 6:17-29)

The question «Jesus, Who is he?» grows throughout the Mk’s Gospel, up to the answer of the centurion under the Cross (Mk 15:39).

The assessment of the opinions of the people (vv. 14-16) suggests that even around the first assemblies of believers someone tried to understand Christ starting from what was already known.

Not a few wished to understand his Person on the basis of criteria drawn from the Scriptures or from the Oral Tradition of the Chosen People; from ancient beliefs and suggestions - even superstitious (as in the case of Herod).

But the Herald of God was not a purifier of the Temple, nor was He a simple healer of dated religiosity, of domesticated cultural ideas. Not even one of the many "reformers"... all in all conformists.

He overturns the hopes of the people, thus disturbing any school of thought; in particular, those who hold the exclusivity.

When feel a danger, those who are shrouded in luster and power become brazen and willing to do any violence, even for a false point of honor.

Tyrants always scoff at the isolated, uncomfortable and defenseless.

But leaders and powerful are also cowards: they do not intend to lose face in front of the allies of their immoderate and uncontrolled environment, cloaked in exemptions.

Josephus [Flavius] reports that John was in prison for fear of a popular uprising - evaluating that it was good for him to act early.

The assassination plot was occasional.

The brave one who denounces abuses is cut off, but the Voice of his martyrdom is no longer silent.

For this reason the episode does not lead Jesus to greater prudence.  Once an Envoy is killed, another greater and more incisive takes over: the last of the Prophets, the Son of God.

It seemed absurd that someone in that society dared to break the conspiratorial wall that guaranteed the troublemakers to consider themselves untouchable.

Faced with the unceremonious blackmail of the privileged who had control of every social and cultural class, it seemed impossible to start a new path, or to say and do anything that was not aligned.

John and Jesus challenge the status quo and attract upon themselves the vengeance of those who try to perpetuate the prerogatives of the ancient hierarchical cosmos, and the anger of those who are exposed in their hypocrisy.

This is the real difficulty encountered in the proclamation of the new Kingdom in the world. His contemptuous refusal and every attempted murder will be a litmus test of our noble critical frankness, the ‘revelation’ of which will run parallel the Two.

The Master stood up in defense of conscience and of the divine law itself, against the opportunist authorities, which he challenged openly.

Even today he asks for courage not to surrender in the face of corruption, evil, the current mentality; to be different in the way of thinking, speaking, choosing and acting.

Not listened to, derided, opposed by many courtiers, the children of God bear witness to the Truth, paying in person: perfect Joy.

Authentic Fullness.

To internalize and live the message:

Who is Jesus according to you and the others?

[Martyrdom of St. John the Baptist, August 29]

(Mk 6:17-29)

The question "Jesus, Who is He?" grows throughout the Gospel of Mark, up to the centurion's answer under the Cross (Mk 15:39).

The balance of people's opinions (Mt 14:1-2; Mk 6:14-16; Lk 9:7-9) suggests that even around the first assemblies of believers there was an attempt to understand Christ from what was already known [from the criteria of Scripture and tradition, from ancient - even superstitious - beliefs and suggestions].

But the man of God is not simply a purifier of the Temple, nor a patchworker of conformist religiosity. He overturns popular, emotional or standard hopes.

In this way, each Prophet disquiets all those who hold the exclusive.

When he senses danger, those cloaked in lustre and power become brazen and willing to any violence, even for a false point of honour.

Tyrants always make a mockery of the isolated, inconvenient and defenceless, but leaders and potentates are also cowards: they do not intend to lose face in front of the allies of their inordinate and unchecked environment, cloaked in exemptions.

During more than 40 years of his reign, Herod Antipas had created a class of officials and a system of privileged people who had the government, the treasury, the economy, justice, every aspect of civil and police life in their hands, and his command covered the territory capillarly.

In every village, the ruler could count on the support of all the cliques and various local leaders, interested in controlling the consciences - along with compromised scribes and Pharisees, linked to his politics.

Apart from being a puppet of Rome - to which he guaranteed control of the territory and the flow of taxes - Herod was depraved and superstitious: he thought that even a light oath to a dancer should be kept.

Josephus Flavius, on the other hand, reports that John was in prison due to the ruler's fear of a popular uprising - and was considering that it was good for him to act in advance. The assassination plot was probably casual.

The courageous person who denounces abuse is crushed, but the voice of his martyrdom will never be silenced again.

This is why the episode does not induce Jesus to greater caution. Once a prophet is killed, another greater and more incisive one takes his place: the last of the Prophets, the Son of God.

Delinquents should not delude themselves that Providence does not know how to equip even the higher (and more wimpy) echelons with the counterpart of consistent and good people.

Both John and the Lord never visited the new Herodian capital, Tiberias, the city of courtly palaces, built - after Sefforis, where Jesus also worked - in diplomatic homage to the Roman emperor.

Generic and confusing religiosity can adapt to any season and be adopted even by those who think that other people's lives are worth nothing, but a Prophet does not stop at the whim of the corrupt system.

In the Palestinian villages, people's lives were harassed with taxes and abuses by landowners [who did not even reside there]; controlled by the perfect marriage of interests between civil and religious powers - who cunningly attempted to impose their way of life and impart established (useless) knowledge to the crowds.

The leaders of the popular, orthodox and compliant faith - as is often the case - were on the leash of the authorities on the ground, who considered themselves definitive and found strength in the coalition.

It seemed absurd that anyone in that society would dare to break the wall of silence that ensured that troublemakers, 'spiritual' authorities and even low-level bullies could consider themselves untouchable.

Faced with the [unceremonious] blackmail of the privileged who were in control of every social and cultural stratum, it seemed impossible to start a new path, or to say and do anything unaligned.

John and Jesus challenge the status quo and attract the vengeance of those who seek to perpetuate the prerogatives of the ancient hierarchical cosmos, and the anger of those who are exposed in their hypocrisies.

This is the real difficulty that the proclamation of the new kingdom encounters in the world. Its scornful rejection and every assassination attempt will be a litmus test of the critical prophecy, whose revelation will run parallel to the Two.

The Baptiser was an intrepid denouncer of vice, superficiality, malpractice, and the perversions of the powerful.

Pope Francis would have spoken of good manners (in the pursuit of ropey alliances) and bad habits - in the irresponsible and insulting private life, and in the violence with which dominion over the little ones is perpetuated.

Jesus, too, put his foot down, instead of making an internal career. In spite of John's foreboding, he rejected the path of weighed-up guile, pretense, diplomacy and pirouettes of circumstance.The Master stood in defence of conscience and divine law itself, against opportunistic religious and political authorities, whom he challenged head-on.

The Lord asks for the courage not to bend in the face of corruption, evil, the current mentality; to be different in the way of thinking, speaking (mellifluous), choosing and acting.

Unheard, laughed at, opposed by lords, luminaries and courtiers, the children of God bear witness to the Truth, paying their own way: perfect Gladness.

Authentic Fullness.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you know victims of authoritarianism, corruption, domination of the powerful, excess and extravagance of power? Even in the Church?

How is it that this still happens (and everything is silenced sooner or later)?

Who is Jesus according to you and others? And what would you say?

Dear brothers and sisters,

[...] the liturgical Memorial of the martyrdom of St John the Baptist, the Precursor of Jesus. In the Roman Calendar, he is the only saint whose birth and death, through martyrdom, are celebrated on the same day (in his case, 24 June). Today’s Memorial commemoration dates back to the dedication of a crypt in Sebaste, Samaria, where his head had already been venerated since the middle of the fourth century. The devotion later extended to Jerusalem, both in the Churches of the East and in Rome, with the title of the Beheading of St John the Baptist. In the Roman Martyrology reference is made to a second discovery of the precious relic, translated for the occasion to the Church of San Silvestro in Campo Marzio, Rome.

These small historical references help us to understand how ancient and deeply-rooted is the veneration of John the Baptist. His role in relation to Jesus stands out clearly in the Gospels. St Luke in particular recounts his birth, his life in the wilderness and his preaching, while in today’s Gospel St Mark tells us of his dramatic death. John the Baptist began his preaching under the Emperor Tiberius in about 27-28 A.D., and the unambiguous invitation he addressed to the people, who flocked to listen to him, was to prepare the way to welcome the Lord, to straighten the crooked paths of their lives through a radical conversion of heart (cf. Lk 3:4).

However, John the Baptist did not limit himself to teaching repentance or conversion. Instead, in recognizing Jesus as the “Lamb of God” who came to take away the sin of the world (Jn 1:29), he had the profound humility to hold up Jesus as the One sent by God, drawing back so that he might take the lead, and be heard and followed. As his last act the Baptist witnessed with his blood to faithfulness to God’s commandments, without giving in or withdrawing, carrying out his mission to the very end. In the 9th century the Venerable Bede says in one of his Homilies: “St John gave his life for [Christ]. He was not ordered to deny Jesus Christ, but was ordered to keep silent about the truth” (cf. Homily 23: CCL 122, 354). And he did not keep silent about the truth and thus died for Christ who is the Truth. Precisely for love of the truth he did not stoop to compromises and did not fear to address strong words to anyone who had strayed from God’s path.

We see this great figure, this force in the Passion, in resistance to the powerful. We wonder: what gave birth to this life, to this interiority so strong, so upright, so consistent, spent so totally for God in preparing the way for Jesus? The answer is simple: it was born from the relationship with God, from prayer, which was the thread that guided him throughout his existence. John was the divine gift for which his parents Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for so many years (cf. Lk 1:13); a great gift, humanly impossible to hope for, because they were both advanced in years and Elizabeth was barren (cf. Lk 1:7); yet nothing is impossible to God (cf. Lk 1:36). The announcement of this birth happened precisely in the place of prayer, in the temple of Jerusalem, indeed it happened when Zechariah had the great privilege of entering the holiest place in the temple to offer incense to the Lord (cf. Lk 1:8-20). John the Baptist’s birth was also marked by prayer: the Benedictus, the hymn of joy, praise and thanksgiving which Zechariah raises to the Lord and which we recite every morning in Lauds, exalts God’s action in history and prophetically indicates the mission of their son John: to go before the Son of God made flesh to prepare his ways (cf. Lk 1:67-79).

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus was nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period he spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80). The desert regions are places of temptation but also where man acquires a sense of his own poverty because once deprived of material support and security, he understands that the only steadfast reference point is God himself. John the Baptist, however, is not only a man of prayer, in permanent contact with God, but also a guide in this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, recalling the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples, the Our Father, notes that the request was formulated by the disciples in these words: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his own disciples” (cf. Lk 11:1).

Dear brothers and sisters, celebrating the martyrdom of St John the Baptist reminds us too, Christians of this time, that with love for Christ, for his words and for the Truth, we cannot stoop to compromises. The Truth is Truth; there are no compromises. Christian life demands, so to speak, the “martyrdom” of daily fidelity to the Gospel, the courage, that is, to let Christ grow within us and let him be the One who guides our thought and our actions. However, this can happen in our life only if we have a solid relationship with God. Prayer is not time wasted, it does not take away time from our activities, even apostolic activities, but exactly the opposite is true: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant and trusting life of prayer will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to surmount difficulties and to witness courageously to him. St John the Baptist, intercede for us, that we may be ever able to preserve the primacy of God in our life. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012]

First and principal meaning of penitence is interior, spiritual. The principal effort of penitence consists "in entering oneself", one's deepest being, entering this dimension of one's own humanity in which, in a certain sense, God is waiting for us. The "exterior" man must

— I would say — yield, in each of us, to the "interior" man and, in a certain sense, "make way for him". In current life, man does not live enough on the "interior" plane. Jesus Christ clearly indicates that also acts of devotion and penitence (such as fasting, charity, prayer) which because of their religious finality are mainly "interior", may yield to the current "exteriorism", and can therefore be falsified. Penitence, on the contrary, as turning to God, requires above all that man should reject appearances, succeed in freeing himself from falsity, and find himself again in all his interior truth. Even a rapid, summary look into the divine splendour of man's interior truth is already a success. It is necessary, however, to consolidate this success skilfully by means of systematic work on oneself. This work is called "ascesis" (it had already been given this name by the Greeks of the times of the origins of Christianity). Ascesis means an interior effort not to let oneself be swept along and pushed by the different "exterior" currents, in such a way as to remain always oneself and keep the dignity of one's own humanity.

But the Lord Jesus calls us to do something more. When he says "go into your room and shut the door", he indicates an ascetic effort of the human spirit, which must not end in man himself. That shutting-in of oneself is, at the same time, the deepest opening of the human heart. It is indispensable for the purpose of meeting the Father, and must be undertaken for this purpose. "Your Father who sees in secret will reward you." Here it is a question of acquiring again the simplicity of thought, of will, and of heart which is indispensable to meet God in one's own "self". And God is waiting for that, in order to approach man who is absorbed interiorly and at the same time open to his word and his love! God wishes to communicate himself to the soul thus disposed. He wishes to give it truth and love, which have their real source in him.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 28 February 1979]

A man, John, and a road, which is that of Jesus, indicated by the Baptist, but is also ours, in which we are all called at the moment of trial.

It starts from the figure of John, "the great John: in the words of Jesus "the greatest man born of a woman"" the reflection of Pope Francis in the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Friday 6 February. The Gospel of Mark (6:14-29) recounts the imprisonment and martyrdom of this "man faithful to his mission; the man who suffered many temptations" and who "never, never betrayed his vocation". A man 'faithful' and 'of great authority, respected by all: the great of that time'.

Pope Francis paused to analyse his figure: 'What came out of his mouth was right. His heart was just'. He was so great that "Jesus will also say of him that 'it is Elijah who has returned, to clean the house, to prepare the way'". And John "was conscious that his duty was only to proclaim: to announce the proximity of the Messiah. He was conscious, as St Augustine makes us reflect, that he was the voice only, the Word was another'. Even when "he was tempted to "rob" this truth, he remained just: "I am not, behind me comes, but I am not: I am the servant; I am the servant; I am the one who opens the doors, so that he may come".

At this point the Pontiff introduced the concept of the way, because, he recalled, 'John is the forerunner: forerunner not only of the Lord's entry into public life, but of the Lord's entire life'. The Baptist 'goes forward in the Lord's way; he bears witness to the Lord not only by showing him - "This is it!" - but also by bringing life to the end as the Lord has brought it'. And by ending his life "with martyrdom" he was "a forerunner of the life and death of Jesus Christ".

The Pope went on to reflect on these parallel paths along which "the great" suffers "many trials and becomes small, small, small to the point of contempt". John, like Jesus, "annihilates himself, he knows the road of annihilation. John, with all that authority, thinking about his life, comparing it with that of Jesus, tells people who he is, what his life will be like: 'It is better for him to grow, I instead must diminish'". This, the Pope stressed, is "the life of John: to diminish before Christ, so that Christ may grow". It is "the life of the servant who makes room, makes way for the Lord to come".

John's life "was not easy": in fact, "when Jesus began his public life", he was "close to the Essenes, that is, to the observants of the law, but also of prayers, of penances". Thus, at a certain point, during the time he was in prison, 'he suffered the ordeal of darkness, of the night in his soul'. And that scene, Francis commented, "moved: the great, the greatest sent two disciples to Jesus to ask him: 'But John asks you: is it you or have I made a mistake and must we wait for someone else?'" Along John's path therefore came 'the darkness of error, the darkness of a life burnt in error. And this was a cross for him".

To John's question "Jesus answers with the words of Isaiah": the Baptist "understands, but his heart remains in darkness". Nevertheless he lends himself to the demands of the king, 'who liked to hear him, who liked to lead an adulterous life', and 'almost became a court preacher, of this perplexed king'. But "he humbled himself" because "he thought he was converting this man".

Finally, the Pope said, 'after this purification, after this continuous descent into annihilation, making way for the annihilation of Jesus, his life ends'. That king from being perplexed 'becomes capable of a decision, but not because his heart has been converted'; rather 'because the wine gives him courage'.

And so John ends his life 'under the authority of a mediocre, drunken and corrupt king, at the whim of a dancer and the vengeful hatred of an adulteress'. Thus 'ends the great, the greatest man born of woman', commented Francis, who confessed: 'When I read this passage, I am moved'. And he added a useful consideration for the spiritual life of every Christian: "I think of two things: first, I think of our martyrs, the martyrs of our day, those men, women, children who are persecuted, hated, driven from their homes, tortured, massacred". And this, he stressed, 'is not a thing of the past: this happens today. Our martyrs, who end their lives under the corrupt authority of people who hate Jesus Christ'. Therefore, "it is good for us to think about our martyrs. Today we think of Paul Miki, but that was in the 1600s. Let us think of those of today, of 2015".

The Pontiff went on to add that this passage also prompts him to reflect on himself: 'I too will end. All of us will end. No one's life is 'bought'. We too, willingly or unwillingly, go down the road of the existential annihilation of life'. And this, he said, prompts him "to pray that this annihilation resembles Jesus Christ, his annihilation, as much as possible".

This closes the circle of Francis' meditation: 'John, the great, who continually diminishes to nothingness; the martyrs, who diminish today, in our Church of today, to nothingness; and we, who are on this road and going towards the earth, where we will all end'. In this sense the Pope's final prayer: "May the Lord enlighten us, make us understand this road of John, the forerunner of the road of Jesus; and the road of Jesus, who teaches us how ours should be."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 07.02.2015]

XXI Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [24 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. It is useful in these times to reread these biblical texts in light of what is happening in the Middle East.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (66:18-21)

The prophets speak in the name of God, and their listeners know this well, but when they want to emphasise the importance of their statements, they remind them that these are the very words of the Lord, and therefore something very important. In this passage, there are at least two great announcements: the universal dimension of God's plan, 'I will come to gather', and the role of the small remnant of believers, 'the survivors', those who have escaped and who, amid general discouragement, preserve their faith.  While the first Isaiah or Micah (8th century BC) announced only the salvation of the 'little remnant of Israel', during and after the exile (6th century) Israel discovered the universal dimension of God's plan and learned to consider its election not as an exclusive privilege but as a vocation. This is a new discourse because it highlights the missionary role that God entrusts to Israel in the service of all humanity, the universal dimension of God's plan: "I will gather all nations and all languages" and even more surprising: "they will come and see my glory" (v. 18). The term glory indicates the splendour of God's presence (literally in Hebrew 'weight'). God does not need us to glorify him; rather, it is we who become happy when we live in a covenant of love with him. "They will see my glory" means recognising Him as the only God, freeing humanity from all forms of idolatry. And the text continues: "I will send their survivors to the farthest nations... these messengers will proclaim my glory among the nations... they will bring all your brothers from all the nations as an offering to the Lord... to my holy one in Jerusalem" (v. 20). Here is the fulfilment of the vocation of the chosen people: to be a light to the nations, so that salvation may reach to the ends of the earth (cf. Is 49:6). This is also the vocation of the Church, the people of God called to bear witness to the truth of God in the world, even if it does not replace Israel: to proclaim the glory of God to all peoples, to bear witness to the Gospel that enlightens life: 'I will put my sign upon them' (v. 19), and in this light we understand what Jesus will say: 'When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself' (Jn 12:32). The last sentence is a third important announcement: not only will the peoples draw near to the Lord, but 'I will take priests and Levites from among them' (v. 21), which means that the usual conditions for the priesthood will no longer be required and every human being can draw near to the living God. We can understand why, a few verses before this Sunday's reading, Isaiah invited all those who love Jerusalem to rejoice because the Lord will make "peace flow towards it like a river, and the glory of the nations like a torrent" (Isaiah 66:10-12).

Some notes *St Augustine writes: 'Who would be so foolish as to believe that God needs the sacrifices offered to him? The worship given to God benefits man and not God. It is not the source that benefits us if we drink from it, nor the light if we see it' (The City of God, X, 5-6).

*In Third Isaiah (the prophet after the exile), we find the theology of the "saving remnant," of which we read a trace in Psalm 39/40: "Many will see and fear and trust in the Lord" (Ps 39/40:4), which can be compared to the announcement we find here in Isaiah (vv. 20-21). 

*In the Bible, nations are not always spoken of in a positive way, and the term is sometimes loaded with decidedly negative meanings: The book of Deuteronomy, for example, speaks of the "abominations of the nations" (18:9-12) because of their religious practices in general and human sacrifices in particular. In biblical pedagogy, the chosen people are guided to remain faithful to God, to discover the face of the one God, avoiding all contact with nations at risk of idolatrous contagion. This positive vision is already present in Abraham: "All the families of the earth shall be blessed in you" (Genesis 12:3). With firmer faith, Israel will discover the universalism of God's plan, gradually understanding that it is the older brother, not the only child, with the role of opening the way to its God for all humanity: if God is the only true God, he is the God of all.

Responsorial Psalm 116/117

This psalm is shorter than the psalter and could be summed up in a single word: Alleluia, the last word of the psalm, but also the first, since Praise the Lord (v. 1) is equivalent to Alleluia: 'Allelu' is an imperative: Praise, and 'Ia' is the first syllable of God's name. The purpose of the entire psalter, which means 'Praises' (in Hebrew Tehillim), derives from the same root as Alleluia. Here is the rabbis' commentary on Alleluia: 'God has led us from slavery to freedom, from sadness to joy, from mourning to celebration, from darkness to splendour, from slavery to redemption. For this reason, we sing Alleluia before him." "God has led us from slavery to freedom": this is what God has done for his people, but it is also God's plan for all humanity. The salvation of his people is the beginning and promise of what God will do for all humanity when he announced to Abraham: "All the families of the earth will be blessed in you" (Gen 12:3). Solomon had already dreamed of this: 'All the peoples of the earth will recognise your name and worship you, as your people Israel do' (1 Kings 8:41-43; cf. the first reading). Hence the structure of this psalm, which is very simple but evocative: 'Praise God' (v. 1); "For he has shown his love" (v. 2). Looking more closely, we read: "Praise God, all you nations" (v. 1); For his work on behalf of his people: "For he has shown his love for us". Here the "for" is very important: when the nations see what God has done for us, they will believe. In other words, because God has proven himself by saving his people, other nations will be able to believe in him. The same reasoning is found in Psalm 39/40 (20th Sunday of the year C) where the psalmist says: "God has brought me out of the pit of death... seeing this, many will fear and put their trust in the Lord" (Ps 39/40:4). Similarly, Psalm 125/126 sings of the exile in Babylon: "Then it was said among the nations, 'The Lord has done great things for them'" (Ps 125/126:2). This idea is found several times in the prophets: when the people are in misfortune, other nations may doubt God's power. It is in this sense that Ezekiel dares to say that the exile in Babylon is a disgrace to God and even goes so far as to say that the exile of God's people "desecrated" God's name, while liberation, on the contrary, will be proof of his liberating power before all. This leads him to proclaim, in the midst of the Babylonian exile: "I will show the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, which you have profaned among them; then the nations shall know that I am the Lord... when I have shown my holiness in you before their eyes" (Ezekiel 36:23; 36:36). Recognising God's Name in biblical language means discovering the God of tenderness and faithfulness revealed to Moses (Ex 34:6): tenderness and faithfulness that Israel has experienced throughout its history. This is the meaning of the second verse of the psalm: "His love for us is strong, and the Lord's faithfulness endures forever."  One final observation: this psalm is part of the Hallel (from Psalm 112/113 to 117/118) and occupies a special place in the liturgy of Israel because it is recited after the Passover meal. Jesus himself sang it on Holy Thursday evening, and the Gospels of Matthew and Mark echo it (cf. Mt 26:30; Mk 14:26). We too can repeat: "He has shown his love for us" by listening to Jesus: "No one has greater love than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends" (Jn 15:13) and "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but have eternal life" (Jn 3:16).

Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (12:5-7, 11-13)

The recipients of the Letter to the Hebrews, Christians going through a period of severe persecution, have already suffered greatly for their faith, as is clear in chapter 10:32-34. To console them and instil courage, the author tells them not to forget the exhortation addressed to them and delves into the Old Testament, taking up what the prophet Isaiah said to his compatriots exiled in Babylon: "Strengthen your limp hands and your weak knees" (v. 12). He speaks to them as if they too were living in exile and addresses the problem of suffering not to justify or explain it, but to give it meaning. He calls for perseverance, an indispensable virtue in times of trial when God, like a Father, shows his love even in seemingly absurd ways. The dominant image is therefore that of the pedagogical father of God present in the wisdom literature of the Bible, where suffering can become a journey, a test of the believer's faith, who knows that, whatever happens, God is silent, but is neither deaf nor indifferent. On the contrary, like a father, he accompanies us on this difficult path and helps us to emerge stronger from every evil. What you endure is therefore a 'correction' with references to the book of Proverbs: 'Do not despise the Lord's discipline, and do not resent his rebuke, for the Lord disciplines those he loves, as a father disciplines the child he delights in' (Pr 3:11-12). This theme was familiar to the early Christians, who knew well the book of Deuteronomy, which compared God to a teacher who accompanies the growth of those he educates (cf. Dt 8:2-5). Lived in trust in God, suffering can become an opportunity to bear witness to the hope and inner peace that the Spirit gives. Suffering can thus become a school in which we learn to live in the Spirit everything that happens because, as St. Paul writes, tribulation produces perseverance, perseverance a proven virtue, and proven virtue the hope that does not disappoint thanks to the love poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 5:3-4). Suffering is therefore part of the human condition: even in such a situation, God entrusts us with the honour and responsibility of bearing witness to the faith, and if persecution is part of the journey of life, it is not because God wants it, but for reasons linked to human behaviour. When Jesus said that it was necessary for the Son of Man to suffer, he was not speaking of a demand from God, but of the sad reality of human opposition. St. Paul, addressing the early communities in Asia Minor, which were also persecuted, reminded them that we must enter the Kingdom of God through many tribulations (cf. Acts 14:22).

From the Gospel according to Luke (13:22-30)

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and, visibly, does not miss an opportunity to teach, but what he says is not always what one would expect. Here, for example, someone asks a question concerning salvation, and he does not answer directly: 'Lord, are there few who are saved?' (v. 23). The answer does not concern who will be saved, as if there were those who were chosen and those who were excluded in advance, but what is the condition for entering the kingdom: to pass through the door! "Strive to enter through the narrow door, for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able to" (v. 24). The image of the narrow gate is evocative and eloquent: someone who is excessively obese or laden with bulky packages cannot pass through a narrow gate unless they undergo a drastic weight-loss programme or decide to abandon all their baggage. The text that follows allows us to understand what spiritual obesity is and what baggage prevents us from passing through.  Knocking at the door, they will say, 'We ate and drank in your presence, and you taught in our streets' (vv. 25-26). Here Jesus denounces the self-assurance of his interlocutors, who are convinced that, simply because they were born of the chosen people, they are entitled to salvation and that the door will open for them. Jesus, however, points out that the door is the same for everyone, so why will they not be able to pass through it? Indeed, the master will specify: "I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you who practise lawlessness' (v. 27). It is true that Jesus is one of them, that he ate and drank with them and taught among them; it is true that their ancestors Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and all the prophets are in the Kingdom of God, but all this does not give them any rights. Spiritual obesity and burdensome weights are their certainties: they do not welcome the kingdom of God as a gift, convinced that they have rights. Then the last sentence becomes clear: 'there are those who are last who will be first, and there are those who are first who will be last' (v. 30). The first in God's plan, as St Paul says, are the children of Israel, to whom belong adoption, glory, the covenants, the Law, worship, the promises, the patriarchs, and it is from them that Christ was born. (cf. Rom 9:4-5). The Jewish people are the people of the Covenant by God's sovereign choice, as we read in Deuteronomy: 'The Lord did not set his heart on any nation but your own, to be his people, as he promised to your ancestors and as he promised to you, because you were the people who were a stony ground and a dry rock, where no one lived, and he brought you out of the desert to give you a good land, a land flowing with milk and honey' (Deut 10:15). And with good reason, the people of Israel were happy and proud to be chosen by God, as it is said in Psalm 32/33: "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord. Blessed are the people he has chosen as his inheritance... We wait for the Lord. He is our help and our shield. The joy of our hearts comes from him, and our trust is in his holy name." (Ps 32/33:12, 20-21). But, like every vocation, God's choice is a mission: the first ones invited to the kingdom had the task of bringing all humanity into it, as Isaiah reminded us several times (cf. Is 42:6; 49:5-6) so that salvation might be achieved for all. When Jesus speaks, they reject his teaching because it disturbs their certainties and their self-satisfaction, and when Jesus tells them to go away because they are doing evil, he does not mean evil actions, but refers to this closure of the heart. Shortly before, he had healed a sick woman in a synagogue on the Sabbath, and instead of rejoicing at her healing, they criticised the place and the time. This same spiritual obtuseness and selfish view of faith can mark our lives as Christians. By closing our hearts to Grace, we become blind and spiritually obese because, like some of Jesus' contemporaries who were closed in their certainties, we fail to recognise him and follow him as the Messiah. Pope Francis repeated that a closed heart does not hear the voice of God nor recognise the face of our brothers and sisters. Let us therefore accept the Lord's invitation to remove hardness from our hearts, so that we may receive the gift of a heart of flesh: only in this way will we be able to understand his will and proclaim his Gospel with joy.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

(Mt 24:42-51)

Key to the reading of the Gospel could be the famous expression of St. Augustine: «Timeo Dominum transeuntem».

Incarnation is a direct thread with reality and divine condition together.

Time of the person of faith is like a season of waiting, but not of provisionality: rather, of continuous capitalization and upheaval.

Nor does the moment of the Church take the form of an institutional season, a period of pause - on schedule, with an expiration date.

Certainly, it is not even an age of preparation starting from our ideas, but of acceptance of the Kingdom, which comes in its Appeal - today with very clear proposals (even in subtractions).

We are called to be ready at all times, and fast as a ‘thief at night’... 

Maybe “he” wants to take away something that we believe absolutely ours, to wich we are too attached.

From the earliest generations of believers there were groups of visionaries - unfortunately unwary - linked to an idea of imminent catastrophe.

The expectation of the sudden ‘return’ of a Messiah who was to put an end to injustice and to carry out the Final Judgment, was a common expectation of those who wished a new phase of history to be inaugurated.

However, nowhere in the Gospels is it written: Jesus "returns", as if he had strayed away.

He is arriving, of course: «He comes» - he does not "come back".

In the New Testament, the Risen is the One Coming [‘o Erchòmenos], that is, the One who breaks in, who ceaselessly makes himself Present.

The point of Life is to realize, to perceive the Presence of Someone inside something; in day-to-day things and in the events of liberation.

Even in the drama of rebirth from global crisis.

No form of alienation comes from the Gospels: Christ is «with us» at all times; in our commitment to nature, to cultures, to everyone’s existence.

The full, total experience of completeness is not given in particular time. 

But eg. the spirit of disinterest that spreads and already makes relationships and things new remains a guarantee of the Kingdom.

Seed and prelude to the alternative world that the Church is called to proclaim and build - including it with open arms.

With at the centre the «Son of Man» who «comes», step by step, we’ll not lose our understanding.

Every moment is good for sharpening perspicacity in the Spirit.

Flexibility of the heart will prevail over predictions, over the imperatives of the mind.

This is the realization and perception of opportunities; opening our eyes, deciphering events, shifting our gaze - in order to grasp the Coming of the Lord, smelling its Meaning, intuiting it as Source of Hope.

In the Eucharist we proclaim precisely the Coming of the Lord, because life in Christ is in every event anticipation and preparation for the spousal Encounter.

From the point of view of Faith, any critical moment cooperates in the good.

It is a Call and opportunity for response, not permanent fear.

[Thursday 21th wk. in O.T.  August 28, 2025]

Coming, Prayer and turning point, amid the roar of the waves.

(Mt 24:37-51)

What kind of Coming is it?

And why do we want the Lord to be present in our lives?

Are we waiting for a shortcut - an act of power - that will calm the stormy sea?

Indeed, it does not seem in keeping with the style of Good News to resurrect the 'days of Noah' and the flood that 'swept away all'.

But there is a wise way of understanding these expressions, which is not the one already found in the moral paradigm of religious cultures.

In the observant tradition of all peoples, insecurity is perceived as a disadvantage.

According to commonplace ideas, spiritual masters see progress when a soul with a mixed and disordered existence overcomes its turmoil in favour of order and tranquillity.

But the experience in the Spirit is more intimately restless than obvious. Nor is it the same as a generic 'spiritual life' animated by a devout sense that detaches itself from transversal instances, for an ideal of 'coherent calm'.

Thus conditioned by indoctrination that is standardised to 'being in society', we piously wait to meet our Lord in dark moments, but only so that he may restore our fortune.

We wait for him in times of economic hardship, so that he may give us an advantage with a win; in humiliating circumstances, so that he may help us get back on our feet.

In loneliness, so that he may bring us together with the right person. 

In danger... hoping that at least He will give us the strength to turn the situation around.

And in sickness, we imagine that he will restore our youthful vigour.

Thus, in the Babel, that (at least in the end) he will communicate relaxation - better still, triumph.

In the Gospels, Jesus tries to make his followers understand where and when to encounter God authentically.

But as we wait for his 'Promises' - and for him to manifest himself as a new Justice, without any more 'art of war' [first reading] - we find it difficult to go beyond the exterior.

We project our ideas even onto religion - but Faith detaches itself from them. It evaluates with a different mindset.

For example, we may fail to meet a friend because we get the time and place of the appointment wrong.

The same thing happens with God.

The uncertainty proclaimed by the Gospels is like a 'flood that sweeps everything away' [cf. v. 39]... but it is Good News!

Although we tend to give a sense of permanence to what we have experienced and believed ourselves to be, we repeatedly experience that our certainties change - just like the waves.

Jesus teaches that true doubt paradoxically arises from some aspect of our identity that (comically) attempts to balance the waves of life.

Instead, the essence of each of us flows from a lively Source, which does what it must every day.

Habits, perspectives, reassuring ways of being with people and dealing with situations cut off the richness of our precious nuances; a large part of our very faces.

And the births and rejuvenations that belong to us.

The inner impact of the many stimuli of this cosmic [and personal] Core insinuates an inevitable and fruitful imbalance, which we risk interpreting in a negative way; precisely, as a nuisance.

In the mind of the person who avoids oscillations, that kind of 'wave' that comes to make us think about ancient things is immediately identified as a threat to our identity.

Providence itself – the 'wave' that sees ahead – is perhaps branded with restlessness, even by those who advise us.

In the ideal man, as chiselled by normalising moralism, the swampy 'water' of the drives is what dirties and drags us down. And the sky would always be clear and clean 'above' the earth.

Instead, it is often thought, a cultural identification upstream, that produces insecurity and torment.

Prejudice oppresses us far more than objective reality, which comes into play to refresh our soul and make it as light as the 'sea foam' crudely embodied.

For an evolution towards improvement, Jesus wants a disciple who is permeable to the New that shakes up the old 'status quo'.

The lack of doubt that the Lord intends to convey does not rhyme with the mechanism of habit.

The certainty he wishes to give us is not a false one - that of the lazy immutability of things that are always the same.

The state of defence and 'prevention' may be characteristic of a life spent in self-interested withdrawal, dodging shocks - not a sign of Life in the Spirit.

Today's Gospel wishes believers to be strongly critical, and even insecure: it does not say 'you must be like this', nor 'you are this' - 'we have made it, why not you?'.

[The identity of St. Benedict is not that of St. Francis, although both are figures deeply rooted (like the circumstances) in the same Source; the original source, however, of gushing water].

We must dive into the 'waves', we must know these 'waves'; because our anchor is not in external things or in what we display in shop windows, but in the Source of Being.

The shell of appearances condemns us to the worst kind of fluctuation, to the least advantageous of insecurities: believing that by maintaining (for example) our economic status or prestige, by reaching that goal, by climbing the ladder of success, and so on, we will avoid frustration, we will escape anxiety, we will finally be free of conflict and even happy.

But in this way, our soul is not strengthened, nor does it fly towards unknown territories; rather, it settles in the most conformist enclosure.

Instead, we are alive, and the youth that conquers the Kingdom comes from the chaos of upheavals.

Missionaries are animated by this one certainty: the best stability is instability: that 'roar of the sea and the waves' where no two waves are alike.

In short, based on the Word of God, perhaps even the liturgical colour purple should be reinterpreted - in a much more vital, incisive and profound way than we thought we understood.

To internalise and live the message:

Advent: why do you want the Lord to come and be present in your life? 

Vigilance is now

(Mt 24:42-51)

    The key to understanding this passage could be St Augustine's famous expression: 'Timeo Dominum transeuntem'. Incarnation is a direct link between reality and the divine condition.

The time of the person of Faith is like a season of waiting, but not of impermanence: rather, it is one of continuous capitalisation and transformation.

Nor is the moment of the Church configured as an institutional period, a pause with a set time and an expiry date.

Of course, it is not even a time of preparation based on our ideas, but rather of welcoming the Kingdom, which comes in its Appeal - today with very clear proposals (even in its subtractions).

We are called to be ready at every moment, and quick as a "thief in the night"... perhaps he wants to take away something that we believe is absolutely ours, but to which we are too attached.

From the earliest generations of believers, groups of visionaries arose - unfortunately misguided - connected to an idea of imminent catastrophe.

The expectation of the sudden "return" of a Messiah who was to put an end to injustice and bring about the Final Judgment was common among those who desired the beginning of a new phase in history.

However, nowhere in the Gospels is it written that Jesus 'returns', as if he had left. He is coming, certainly: 'He is coming' - not 'He returns'.

In the New Testament, the Risen One is the Coming One [‘o Erchòmenos], that is, the One who bursts in, who incessantly makes himself present.

The end of the world and the return of the Lord on a white cloud is a suggestion that is still used today to intimidate simple people and condition them into fanatical groups. Social networks are full of it.

The point of Life is to notice, to perceive the Presence of Someone within something, in the summary things and in the events of liberation; even in the drama of rebirth from the global crisis.

No form of alienation comes from the Gospels: Christ is with us at all times, in our commitment to nature, cultures and the life of all.

The full, total experience of completeness is not given in a particular time. But, for example, the spirit of selflessness that is spreading and already making relationships and things new remains a guarantee of the Kingdom.

It is the seed and prelude to the new world that the Church is called to proclaim and build, welcoming it with open arms.

With the 'Son of Man' who 'is coming' at the centre, step by step, let us not lose sight of the goal.

Every moment is a good moment to sharpen our discernment in the Spirit. Flexibility of heart will prevail over predictions and the imperatives of the mind.

This is how we become aware of and perceive opportunities; open our eyes, decipher events, shift our gaze - in order to grasp the Coming of the Lord, sense its meaning, intuit it as a source of Hope.

In the Eucharist, we proclaim the Coming of the Lord, because life in Christ is, in every event, anticipation and preparation for the Spousal Encounter.

From the perspective of Faith, every critical moment cooperates for good. It is a call and an opportunity to respond, not a permanent fear.

Son of Man

'Son of Man' is therefore not a 'religious' or selective title, but a possibility for all those who adhere to the Lord's proposal of life and reinterpret it in a creative way.

They overcome their fixed and natural boundaries, making room for the Gift; welcoming from God the fullness of being, in its new, unrepeatable paths.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, they discover other facets of themselves, change the way they are with themselves, and can grow: they fulfil themselves, blossom and radiate the completeness they have received.

By leaving behind the poor or static idea we have of ourselves—a serious problem in many sensitive and dedicated souls—even the relational personality can begin to imagine.

And dream, discovering that it no longer has to give weight to those who want to influence a person's journey (in the fullness of being and vocation).

Those who activate the idea that they can do it then transmit the power of the Spirit they have received and welcomed, and the world flourishes.

By emanating a different atmosphere, people who are integrated in all their aspects, even their opposite ones, feel awareness arise, create projects, emit and attract other energies, and activate them.

God wants to extend the sphere in which he 'reigns' - relating in an interpersonal way - to all humanity... A Church without visible boundaries, which will begin with the 'Son of Man' (a figure not exclusive to Jesus).

This universalistic perspective emerges, among other things, from Jesus' presentation of himself not only as 'Son of David' but as 'Son of Man' (Mk 10:33). The title 'Son of Man', in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), refers to the figure who comes 'with the clouds of heaven' (v. 13) and is an image that heralds a completely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to himself to reveal the true character of his messianism, as a mission destined for all people and for every person, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters this new kingdom, which the Church proclaims and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion.

[Pope Benedict, Consistory, 24 November 2012]

With the image of the Son of Man, the prophet Daniel already wanted to indicate a reversal of the criteria of authenticity (human and divine): a man or a people, a leader, finally with a heart of flesh instead of a beast.

In the icon of the 'Son of Man', the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman, the gradual disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full life.

The People who shine in a divine way are no longer entangled in fears or hysteria, but rather bring to the fore all their varied potential for love and the effusion of life.

The 'Son of Man' - a possible reality - is anyone who reaches fulfilment, the flowering of their capacity to be, in the extension of relationships... entering into harmony with the sphere of God the Creator, the Lover of life.

They do so in their varied facets, and merge with Him - becoming One. Creating abundance.

"Son of Man" is the man who behaves on earth as God himself would, who makes the divine and its power present in history.

He can therefore afford to replace the sombre seriousness of being pious and submissive with the wise light-heartedness that makes everything light.

"Son of Man" represents the highest form of humanity, the Person par excellence - who becomes liberating instead of oppressive.

The consequences are unimaginable, because each of us in Christ (and for our brothers and sisters) no longer has dead paths to retrace.

"Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Mt 24:42). Jesus, who came among us at Christmas and will return in glory at the end of time, never tires of visiting us continually, in the events of every day. He asks us and warns us to wait for him, keeping watch, because his coming cannot be planned or predicted, but will be sudden and unpredictable. Only those who are awake will not be caught off guard. He warns us not to let what happened in Noah's time happen to us, when people were eating and drinking carefree and were caught unprepared by the flood (cf. Mt 24:37-38). What does the Lord want us to understand with this warning, if not that we must not allow ourselves to be absorbed by material realities and concerns to the point of becoming ensnared?

"Watch therefore..." Let us listen to Jesus' invitation in the Gospel and prepare ourselves to relive with faith the mystery of the birth of the Redeemer, who filled the universe with joy; let us prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord in his unceasing coming to meet us in the events of life, in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness; let us prepare ourselves to meet him in his final coming. His passing is always a source of peace, and if suffering, the legacy of human nature, sometimes becomes almost unbearable, with the coming of the Saviour "suffering - without ceasing to be suffering - becomes, in spite of everything, a song of praise" (Encyclical Spe salvi, 37).

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Roman hospital of St. John the Baptist, 2 December 2007]

"Watch, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Mt 24: 42). Jesus, who came among us at Christmas and will return in glory at the end of time, does not tire of visiting us continuously in everyday events. He asks us to be alert to perceive his presence, his advent, and recommends that we watch and wait for him since his coming is not programmed or foretold but will be sudden and unexpected. Only those who are alert are not taken by surprise. He warns: may it not happen to you as in Noah's day, when men ate and drank heedlessly and were swept away unprepared by the flood (cf. Mt 24: 37-38). What does the Lord want to make us understand with this warning, other than we must not let ourselves be absorbed by material realities and concerns to the point of being ensnared by them? We must live in the eyes of the Lord with the conviction that he can make himself present. If we live in this way, the world will become better. 

"Watch, therefore". Let us listen to Jesus' Gospel invitation and prepare ourselves to relive with faith the mystery of the Redeemer's birth, which filled all the world with joy; let us prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord in his constant coming to us in the events of life, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness; let us prepare ourselves to meet him at his definitive coming. His nearness is always a source of peace, and if suffering, a legacy of human nature, sometimes becomes unbearable, with the Saviour's advent "suffering - without ceasing to be suffering - becomes, despite everything, a hymn of praise" (Spe Salvi, n. 37).

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Roman hospital of St. John the Baptist, 2 December 2007]