The risk of drowning

(Mt 14:22-36)

Some other providence, which you do not know

"It is good not to fall, or to fall and get up again. And if you do fall, it is good not to despair and not to become estranged from the love that the Sovereign has for man. For if he wishes, he can show mercy to our weakness. Let us only not stray from him, let us not feel distressed if we are constrained by the commandments, and let us not be disheartened if we achieve nothing (...).

We must neither be hasty nor give up, but always start again (...).

Wait for him, and he will show you mercy, either through conversion, through trials, or through some other providence that you do not know.

(Peter Damascene, Book Two, Eighth Discourse, in The Philokalia, Turin 1982, I,94)

Having reached the final stage (v. 23), Jesus does not allow the Apostles to keep God's treasures for themselves.

He compels them to go on mission to the pagans (v. 22). However, there were many adverse 'winds'.

About half a century after the Lord's death, the communities of Galilee and Syria were facing a difficult crossing.

The certainties of the ancient religion and the sense of rootedness in the customs of the "chosen" people were fading. Even the small privileges of position were crumbling.

With the increasing entry of pagans into the communities, the third generation of believers were forced to ask themselves how to break out of their ancient cultural isolation and open themselves up to a new way of seeing things.

In addition to persecution, internal conflicts were intensifying, for example, over the position to take in relation to the Empire itself.

There were heated debates about the very figure and history of the Master, as well as about the attitude to take towards the tradition of the fathers (which some saw as a call to return to the past).

Although the situation was fraught with friction, bitterness, resentment between those who had converted from Judaism and those who came from paganism, as well as impetuous dangers, the Good News of unconditional salvation could not be kept within a small circle.

The mention of the divine name 'I Am' refers here to the story of Exodus 3:14. It is a reminder to the disciples, who were still overcome by immediate fears about the real power of life and liberation of Christ - so much so that they did not recognise him (v. 26).

The Risen One makes himself present again and again, so that we may open ourselves and move forward without the burden of opposition or nostalgia. A whole new reality awaits us.

We are filled with God's strength (vv. 28-31), and today too, for our rebirth from the global crisis, we are called to a personal, cultural, radical and unprecedented response of love: to introspection, but not as intimidated subjects; to boldness, but not as hasty superficial people.

Authentic communities - "the corner of his cloak" (v. 36), that is, of his Person - will experience once again the power of the Spirit.

Through evangelisation and a new way of living and helping others freely, every storm that may gather on the horizon will dissipate.

It will be replaced by an ever deeper and more acute experience of the flourishing diversity on the other side: of our neighbour, of ourselves, of the very life that is coming, and of God.

But the virtue that dominates the elements cannot be experienced as Peter intended, that is, as an external, immediate, decisive, and final power, but rather as mysterious and interior, animated in time and deeply relational.

'Victory' will be the fruit of faith alone: trust in the power that the silent Messiah gives.

This power is far greater than what we already know about ourselves, even though we often (like Simon) demand an easier, quicker, and immediately decisive shortcut.

(Mt 8:23-27)

The direction imposed by Jesus on his followers seems counterintuitive and blatantly breaks the rules accepted by everyone.

While the disciples cherished nationalistic desires, the Master began to make it clear that He was not the Messiah commonly believed to be the restorer of the defunct empire of David or the Caesars.

The Kingdom of God is open to all humanity, which in those times of turmoil seeks security, welcome and points of reference. Everyone can find a home and shelter there (Mt 13:32c; Mk 4:32b).

But the apostles and church veterans seem averse to Christ's proposals; they remain insensitive to an idea of brotherhood that is too broad and unsettling for them. It is a serious and pressing problem.

The teaching and call imposed on the disciples is to cross over to the other side (Mk 4:35; Lk 8:22), that is, not to keep for themselves, but to communicate the riches of the Father to the pagans, considered impure and disreputable.

Yet his followers do not want to know about risky disproportions that effectively highlight the action of the Son of God. They are calibrated to common religious customs and a limited ideology of power.Their resistance to the divine commission and the ensuing internal debate unleashed a great storm in the assemblies of believers.

'And behold, there came a great storm upon the sea, so that the boat was being covered with waves' (Mt 8:24).

The storm affects only the disciples, who are the only ones who are frightened; not Jesus: "but he was asleep" (Mt 8:24c: this is the Risen One).

What happens 'inside' is not simply a reflection of what happens 'outside'! This is the mistake that needs to be corrected.

Such identification blocks and makes life chronic, starting with the management of emotionally relevant situations - which have their own meaning. They carry a significant appeal, introducing a different perspective and dialogue.

Even from the peace of the divine condition that dominates chaos, the Lord calls attention and rebukes the apostles, accusing them of not having faith, that is, a grain of risk of love - like a mustard seed (Mt 8:26) - to bring to humanity in order to renew it.

In short, are we confused, embarrassed, and is the chaos of patterns (not excluding selfishness) raging? Paradoxically, we are on the right path, but we must not be overcome by fear.

In Him, we are imbued with a different vision of danger.

The Tao Te Ching (xxii) says: 'The saint does not see by himself, therefore he is enlightened'. Even in narrow places.

In fact, it seems that Jesus expressly wants the apostles to experience moments of confrontation and doubt (Mk 4:35; Lk 8:22b). This is also true for us, even if we are responsible for the Church... because otherwise we will not be able to cleanse ourselves of repetitive convictions.

Textbook expectations (and the habit of creating conformist harmonies) block the flowering of who we are and what we hope for.

Above all, what is annoying or even "against" us has something decisive to tell us. Even in the little boat of the churches (Mk 4:36), discomfort must be expressed.

'And they came and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us, we are perishing!"' (Matthew 8:25).

It is to revive the essence of each individual and of the community itself, to introduce change (hidden or repressed) and activate it in the most effective way... through contact with unspoken, primordial energies.

More than opposing frictions and conflicting external events, anxiety, impression and anguish come from the very fear of facing the normal or decisive questions of existence.

This is due to mistrust: feeling in danger perhaps only because we perceive ourselves as immature, incapable of other forms of dialogue, of discovering and reworking, of converting or reshaping ourselves.

The effort of questioning ourselves and the suffering that the adventure of Faith reserves for us will fade away even amid the troubles of the rough sea - which precisely does not want us to return to 'what we were before'.

All we need to do is let go of the idea of stability, even religious stability, and listen to life as it is, embracing it, even in its multitude of collisions, disappointments, hopes for harmony that are shattered, and sorrows, entertaining ourselves with this flood of new emergencies and encountering our deepest nature.

The best vaccine against the anxieties of adventure with Christ on the changing waves of the unexpected will be precisely not to avoid worries upstream - but rather to go out to meet them and welcome them; to recognise them and let them be.

Even in times of global crisis, the apprehensions that seem to want to devastate us come to us as preparatory energies for other joys that want to burst forth—new cosmic harmonies; for amazement starting from ourselves, and guidance for the hereafter.

Our little boat is in a state of inverted stability, upside down, unbalanced; uncertain, inconvenient - yet energetic, pungent, capable of reinventing itself. It may even be excessive, but it is born of turmoil.

For a proposal of Tenderness (not corresponding) that is not a relaxation zone, because it rhymes with terrible anxiety and... suburbs!

To internalise and live the message:

On what occasions have you found easy what previously seemed impossible?

A wonderful testimony:

'Once, like the first disciples, we met the Lord and heard his words: "Follow me!" Perhaps at first we followed him a little uncertainly, looking back and wondering if this was really the right path for us. And at some point along the way, we may have experienced what Peter did after the miraculous catch of fish, that is, we were frightened by his greatness, the greatness of the task and the inadequacy of our poor selves, so much so that we wanted to turn back: 'Lord, go away from me, for I am a sinful man! (Lk 5:8) But then, with great kindness, He took us by the hand, drew us to Himself and said: "Do not be afraid! I am with you. I will not leave you, do not leave me!" And more than once, perhaps, the same thing happened to each of us as happened to Peter when, walking on the water towards the Lord, he suddenly realised that the water was not supporting him and that he was about to sink. And like Peter, we cried out: "Lord, save me!" (Mt 14:30). Seeing all the fury of the elements, how could we pass through the roaring and foaming waters of the last century and the last millennium? But then we looked to Him... and He took us by the hand and gave us a new "specific weight": the lightness that comes from faith and draws us upwards. And then He gives us His hand that supports and carries us. He sustains us. Let us fix our gaze on Him again and again and stretch out our hands to Him. Let His hand take us, and then we will not sink, but we will serve the life that is stronger than death and the love that is stronger than hatred. Faith in Jesus, the Son of the living God, is the means by which we grasp Jesus' hand again and again and by which He takes our hands and guides us. One of my favourite prayers is the question that the liturgy puts on our lips before Communion: '... never let me be separated from you'. We ask never to fall out of communion with His Body, with Christ Himself, never to fall out of the Eucharistic mystery. We ask that He never let go of our hand...'.

(Pope Benedict, Chrism Mass homily, 13 April 2006)

Bread and wonders of the Christ-ghost. And we, the fringe of his cloak

(Mk 6:53-56 // Mt 14:34-36)

He who is devoted to the cause of non-violence and non-possession, who is driven by the search for truth and right vision, who is capable of resolving his own emotional and intellectual problems and can show others the way to overcome their emotional and intellectual problems, can carry the cloak of the Master.

(Acharya Mahaprajna)

While some people crowd around Him and prevent others from having a personal relationship with Jesus, it is necessary to come up with something, at least to touch Him (v. 56).

'And wherever he entered villages or towns or hamlets, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and begged him to touch even the fringe of his cloak. And all who touched him were saved'.

In fact, the fringe of his cloak is his People - and each one of us, when we are enabled by Gift to perceive and prolong his call, his spirit, his care, his action.

A 'touch' that is not a simple gesture: it calls for total involvement; personal faith, digging deep within.

The crowds around the Lord and the Church, his primary presence, seek bread and healing... but sometimes they forget their adherence to the inner Person who gives and cares.

Yet even in these cases, the infallible Guide re-proposes his uninterrupted vital wave - with therapies that do not impose themselves on souls like lightning, but in real life.

God frees, saves and creates, starting from tensions and defects (even religious ones) because he wants to bring us to awareness.

The Father wants to instil the value of the act of love that makes the weak strong; every re-creative gesture, embodied, open to any sense of emptiness.

Annoyances do not happen by misfortune or punishment: they come to let us flourish again, starting precisely from the pains of the soul.

If they persist, fear not: they become more explicit messages from our own higher Seed.

It means that something in our orchestra is out of tune or neglected, and must either fade away or be discovered and brought into play.

Otherwise, we will not be able to grow towards the destiny that characterises a Calling and every discomfort.

Even the symptoms of restlessness belong to the innate quintessence, which always has the power of relevance.

The key will therefore not be appearance or health, but rather the acceptance of bitterness and hardship, which come to clear away the non-essential and free trapped spiritual impulses.

These are energies of imbalance, but they want to be transformed into the ability to throw off ballast... as well as to better accommodate and integrate one's vocation into one's own history, in order to build life again.

Perhaps many would prefer to wait for a miraculous arrival of the Master (the archetypal healer) who will bring immediate benefits and favours.

External salvation with a magical flavour - fleeting, even if physically palpable or even in ethical guise.

A phenomenal but simplistic Lord.

An appearance that dies quickly, then starts all over again - if He (in us, in our turning points) did not involve the same uncertainties that mark us. And the long time of the processes, which gradually take on a more intimate weight.

Total and sacred redemption - truly messianic - is not prone to superficial fanfare.

Healing is not spectacular. It is achieved only step by step; thus it remains profound and radical.

It becomes capable of new beginnings and acts of birth of still embryonic energy, starting precisely from individual precariousness.

His People – no longer an ineffable and mysterious presence – work in proximity to erase the false image of the philosophical or forensic God, always external. 

Sovereign or imperative motor, distant and absent - touchy - who occasionally points the finger; never surpasses, nor even reconfirms. Never looking at our present.

Thus, the Church rejects the idea of the Eternal One who ratifies, but also that of the mass miracle worker, immediately decisive (so dear to miracle merchants) - a figure who easily takes hold of our imaginations.

We proclaim with words and gestures his authentic Face, precisely to destroy the idea of the Christ-ghost of the previous passage (v. 49), a deplorable and absurd figure.

An icon that is merely apologetic, which unfortunately in history has given ample space to those in business with the Most High.

Being healed does not mean escaping transience.

For a saved existence, a transformation from within is needed; another beginning. A different hold on goodness.

Jesus walks through our environments like a silent wayfarer, and even accepts a primitive faith.

But even with humble power, the divine impulse works in every seeker of meaning and in every needy person; it establishes itself personally, starting precisely from interrupted dreams.

The Lord cannot be imprisoned or contained: he approaches us to begin a great cleansing, to shift our gaze and renew the stale universe.

Thus he transforms us, in the experience of his gratuitous communion,

a coexistence that wants to take up residence in us, to merge and expand the drive for life (perhaps hidden in abstention) so that each of us may be amazed at ourselves, at unknown passions, at new relationships.

Believers and communities manifest in empathetic ways the incisive healing power of faith in the Risen One, starting from their own intimate experiences.

We experience this in our monotonous, unrewarding and precarious daily lives, which are nevertheless capable of changing the structure of existence hidden in summary districts (v. 56: 'borgate') and its unexpressed destination.

Without disturbing with special effects, unilateral or pressing.

The Tao Te Ching (xi) writes: 'Thirty spokes come together at a single hub, and in its non-being is the usefulness of the wheel'.

Elsewhere, the civilisation of appearances brings about the improvement of our condition and security (from insecurity) - not in a simple, indiscreet and temporary recovery.

Phenomenal, but only punctual and inconclusive, or ultimately abdicating.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you view Jesus? As a miracle worker or a saviour?

How do you behave towards those who are excluded or seem without a shepherd?

Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni

"Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni" – with these and similar words, the liturgy of the Church prays repeatedly [...]

These invocations were probably formulated during the decline of the Roman Empire. The disintegration of the fundamental legal systems and moral attitudes that gave them strength caused the collapse of the barriers that had hitherto protected peaceful coexistence among people. A world was coming to an end. Frequent natural disasters further increased this feeling of insecurity. There was no force in sight that could halt this decline. All the more insistent was the invocation of God's power: that He would come and protect men from all these threats.

"Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni" (Awaken, Lord, your power, and come). Even today, we have many reasons to join in this prayer [...] The world, with all its new hopes and possibilities, is at the same time distressed by the impression that moral consensus is dissolving, a consensus without which legal and political structures cannot function; as a result, the forces mobilised to defend these structures seem doomed to failure.

Excita – the prayer recalls the cry addressed to the Lord, who was sleeping in the disciples' boat, which was being tossed about by the storm and was about to sink. When his powerful word had calmed the storm, he rebuked the disciples for their lack of faith (cf. Mt 8:26 and par.). He meant: faith has fallen asleep in you. He means the same thing to us. Faith so often sleeps in us too. Let us therefore pray to Him to wake us from the sleep of a faith that has grown weary and to restore to faith the power to move mountains – that is, to put the things of the world in their proper order.

(Pope Benedict, to the Roman Curia, 20 December 2010)

Once, like the first disciples, we encountered the Lord and heard his words:  "Follow me!" Perhaps, to start with, we followed him somewhat hesitantly, looking back and wondering if this really was the road for us. And at some point on the journey, we may have had the same experience as Peter after the miraculous catch; in other words, we may have been frightened by its size, by the size of the task and by the inadequacy of our own poor selves, so that we wanted to turn back. "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord" (Lk 5: 8). 

Then,  however,  with  great  kindness, he took us by the hand, he drew us  to  himself  and  said  to  us:   "Do not fear! I am with you. I  will not abandon you, do not leave me!". 

And more than just once, the same thing that happened to Peter may have happened to us:  while he was walking on the water towards the Lord, he suddenly realized that the water was not holding him up and that he was beginning to sink. And like Peter we cried, "Lord, save me!" (Mt 14: 30). Seeing the elements raging on all sides, how could we get through the roaring, foaming waters of the past century, of the past millennium? 

But then we looked towards him... and he grasped us by the hand and gave us a new "specific weight":  the lightness that derives from faith and draws us upwards. Then he stretched out to us the hand that sustains and carries us. He supports us. Let us fix our gaze ever anew on him and reach out to him. Let us allow his hand to take ours, and then we will not sink but will serve the life that is stronger than death and the love that is stronger than hatred. 

Faith in Jesus, Son of the living God, is the means through which, time and again, we can take hold of Jesus' hand and in which he takes our hands and guides us. 

One of my favourite prayers is the request that the liturgy puts on our lips before Communion:  "...never let me be separated from you". Let us ask that we never fall away from communion with his Body, with Christ himself, that we do not fall away from the Eucharistic mystery. Let us ask that he will never let go of our hands...

[Pope Benedict, Chrism Mass homily, 13 April 2006]

4. In turn, the storm calmed on the Sea of Galilee can be reinterpreted as a "sign" of Christ's constant presence in the "boat" of the Church, which many times throughout history has been exposed to the fury of the winds in times of storm. Jesus, awakened by his disciples, commands the winds and the sea, and there is a great calm. Then he says to them, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" (Mk 4:40). In this, as in other episodes, we see Jesus' desire to instil in the apostles and disciples faith in his active and protective presence even in the most stormy hours of history, when doubt about his divine assistance could creep into their spirits. In fact, in homiletics and Christian spirituality, miracles have often been interpreted as "signs" of Jesus' presence and a guarantee of the trust that Christians and the Church place in him.

5. Jesus, walking on the water towards his disciples, offers another 'sign' of his presence and assures them of his constant vigilance over them and over the Church. 'Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid,' Jesus says to the apostles, who had taken him for a ghost (cf. Mk 6:49-50; cf. Mt 14:26-27; Jn 6:16-21). Mark notes the amazement of the apostles "because they did not understand the miracle of the loaves, and their hearts were hardened" (Mk 6:52). Matthew reports Peter's request to go down onto the water to meet Jesus and records his fear and his cry for help when he feels himself sinking. Jesus saves him but gently rebukes him: "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" (Mt 14:31). He also adds that "those in the boat bowed down before him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God'" (Mt 14:33).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 2 December 1987]

This Sunday's Gospel passage (see Mt 14:22-33) speaks of Jesus walking on the water of the stormy lake. After feeding the crowds with five loaves and two fish – as we saw last Sunday – Jesus commands the disciples to get into the boat and return to the other shore. He dismisses the people and then climbs the hill, alone, to pray. He immerses Himself in communion with the Father.

During the crossing of the lake by night, the disciples' boat is hindered by a sudden wind storm. This is normal on a lake. At a certain point, they see someone walking on the water, coming toward them. Upset, they think it is a ghost and cry out in fear. Jesus reassures them: “Take heart, it is I; have no fear”. Then Peter – Peter who was so decisive – answers: “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water”. A challenge. And Jesus tells him: “Come”. Peter gets out of the boat and takes a few steps; then the wind and waves frighten him and he begins to sink. “Lord, save me”, he cries, and Jesus grasps him by the hand and says to him: “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?”.

This Gospel narrative is an invitation to abandon ourselves trustingly to God in every moment of our life, especially in the moment of trial and turmoil. When we have strong feelings of doubt and fear and we seem to be sinking, in life’s difficult moments where everything becomes dark, we must not be ashamed to cry out like Peter: “Lord, save me” (v. 30). To knock on God’s heart, on Jesus’s heart. “Lord, save me.” It is a beautiful prayer! We can repeat it many times. “Lord, save me.” And Jesus’s gesture, who immediately reaches out His hand and grasps that of His friend, should be contemplated at length: this is Jesus. Jesus does this. Jesus is the Father’s hand who never abandons us, the strong and faithful hand of the Father, who always and only wants what is good for us. God is not in the loud sound, God is not the hurricane, He is not in the fire, He is not in the earthquake – as the narrative about the Prophet Elijah also recalls today that says God is the light breeze – literally it says this: He is in the “ thread of melodious silence” – that never imposes itself, but asks to be heard (see 1 Kgs 19:11-13). Having faith means keeping your heart turned to God, to His love, to His Fatherly tenderness, amid the storm. Jesus wanted to teach this to Peter and the disciples, and also to us today. In dark moments, in sad moments He is well aware that our faith is weak –all of us are people of little faith, all of us, myself included, everyone – and that our faith is weak our journey can be troubled, hindered by adverse forces. But He is the Risen One! Let’s not forget this: He is the Lord who passed through death in order to lead us to safety. Even before we begin to seek Him, He is present beside us lifting us back up after our falls, He helps us grow in faith. Maybe in the dark, we cry out: “Lord, Lord!” thinking He is far away. And He says, “I am here.” Ah, He was with me! That is the Lord.

The boat at the mercy of the storm is the image of the Church, which in every age encounters headwinds, very harsh trials at times: we recall certain long and ferocious persecutions of the last century and even today in certain places. In situations like that, she may be tempted to think that God has abandoned her. But in reality it is precisely in those moments that the witness of faith, the witness of love, the witness of hope shines the most. It is the presence of the Risen Christ in His Church that gives the grace of witness unto martyrdom, from which buds new Christians and fruit of reconciliation and peace for the entire world.

May the intercession of Mary help us to persevere in faith and fraternal love when the darkness and storms of life place our trust in God in crisis.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 9 August 2020]

(Mt 14:13-21)

Jesus wants that contributions, resources and abilities make synergy; that they offer themselves in service and come unite for the life of multitudes (vv.13-15.19).

The Eucharistic gesture - “breaking the existence” - says: new heavens and earth do not correspond to the world in which everyone hastens to reap for himself or his circle, in order to grab the maximum of resources.

Even the Apostles - called by Jesus and still at a safe distance from Him - are not the owners of the Bread, but those who must feed everyone (v.16), to create abundance where it’s not.

They must share, not command. And, in order to avoid impoverishment and damage to happiness, they must place themselves in a logic of overcoming.

The Son reflects God’s plan in compassion for the crowds in need of everything. Yet his solution does not fly over us - simply by wiping tears or erasing humiliations.

He invites us to use what we have, although it may seem ridiculous. But He teaches that shifting energies creates prodigious results.

Thus we respond in Christ to the great problems of the world: recovering the condition of ‘viator’ man - being in passing - and sharing goods.

Our real nakedness, the vicissitudes and experience of many brothers, different ones, are resources not to be evaluated with mistrust.

And the Lord disagrees with the idea that each gets off on his own (v.15).

He imposes on his intimates that «the crowds» (plurals) lie down in an atmosphere of abundance (v.19) as did the gentlemen and free people at solemn banquets.

He wants and insists that it’s first of all the disciples to serve (v.19), not other slaves.

And perhaps the most astounding detail is that to none of those present imposes preventive gestures of purification, as was customary in selective religiosity.

Before the meal it postulated the ritual ablution: a ceremony that emphasized a sacral detachment between pure and impure.

The only task of the disciples is to distribute Food to be shredded, sifted and assimilated personally, to build a new world.

In order to present ourselves before God, in religion we have a long rigmarole of fulfilments to observe, which sometimes normalise us.

On the journey of Faith, it is the gratuitous Encounter with the Lord that makes us grow and complete, making each one perfect and unconditionally pure.

In this, extracting authentic Pearls; just from our eccentricities character - those that are detached from the millimeter manners.

His Kingdom? Reign of invited and brothers, also disagree. No master or ruler - even if quicker and more able to manage himself.

The Eucharist thus remains an Appeal to real Conviviality [of differences as they are] and an evergreen Call not to be satisfied with individual devotions or with a harmonisable but empty spirituality.

To internalize and live the message:

How does the Eucharistic gesture speak to you of the Revolution of Tenderness, and of your Call by Name through the Church?

 [Monday 18th wk. in O.T.  August 4, 2025]

Multiplying by dividing

(Mt 14:13-21)

«Man is a limited being who is himself limitless» (Fratelli Tutti [Brethren All] n.150).

In our hearts we have a great longing for fulfilment and Happiness. The Father has introduced it, He Himself satisfies it - but He wants us to be associated with His work - inside and outside.

The Son reflects God's design in compassion for the crowds in need of everything and - despite the plethora of teachers and experts - lacking any authentic teaching (cf. Mt 9:36).

His solution is very different from that of all 'spiritual' guides, because he does not overlook us with an indirect paternalism (cf. Mt 14:16) that wipes away tears, heals wounds, erases humiliations.

It invites us to make use of what we are and have, even though it may seem ridiculous. But it teaches in no uncertain terms that by shifting energies we achieve prodigious results.

This is how we respond in Christ to the world's great problems: by recovering the condition of the man viator - a being of passage, his essential mark - and sharing goods; not letting everyone make do (v.15).

Our real nakedness, the vicissitudes and the experience of our many brothers and sisters, who are different, are resources not to be evaluated with distrust, "as dangerous competitors or enemies" of our fulfilment (FT no.151).

Not only will the little we bring be enough to satiate us: it will advance for others and with identical fullness of truth, human, epochal [v.17: the particular passage insists on the well-known Semitic symbolism of the number "seven"].

In Christ, everyone can inaugurate a new Time, and Salvation is already at hand, because people gather spontaneously around Him, coming as they are, with the burden of so many different needs.

The new people of God are not a crowd of chosen and pure people. Everyone brings with them problems, which the Lord heals - but healing not with proxy measures (v.16), as if from above or from without.

In short: another world is possible, but through breaking one's own (even miserable) bread and companion (vv.17-19).

An authentic solution, if one brings it out from within, and by standing in the middle - not in front, not at the top (v.15c).

The place of God's revelation was supposed to be the place of lightning, on a "mountain" smoking like a furnace (Ex 19:18)... but finally even Elijah's violent zeal had to recant (1 Kings 19:12).

Even to the pagans, the Son reveals a Father who does not simply erase infirmities (v.14): he makes them understood as a place that is preparing a personal development, and that of the Community.

He imagined that in the time of the Messiah, the lame, the deaf and the blind would disappear (Is 35:5ff.). Golden age: everything at the top, no abyss.

In Jesus - distributed Bread - an unusual fullness of time is manifested, apparently nebulous and fragile, but real and able to reboot everyone, and relationships.

The Spirit of God acts not by descending like lightning from on high, but by activating in us capacities that appear intangible, yet are capable of regrouping our dispersed being, classified as insubstantial - involving the everyday summary - and re-evaluating it.

The Incarnation reweaves our hearts, in dignity and promotion; it truly unfolds, because it not only drags obstacles away: it rests on them and does not erase them at all: thus it overpowers them but transmutes them - posing new life.

Lymph that draws juice and sprouts Flowers from the one muddy, fertile soil, and communicates them. Solidarity to which all are invited, not just those deemed to be in a state of 'perfection' and compactness.

Our shortcomings make us attentive, and unique. They are not to be despised, but taken up, placed in the Son's hands and energised (v.18).

Falls themselves can be a valuable sign: in Christ, they are no longer reductive humiliations, but rather path markers. Perhaps we are not making the best use and investment of our resources.

Thus, collapses can quickly turn into rises - different, not packaged - and a search for total completion in Communion.

Therefore, in the ideal of realising the Vocation and sensing the type of contribution to be made, nothing is better than a living environment that does not clip the wings: a lively fraternity in the exchange of resources, and coexistence.

Not so much to dampen the jolts, but so that we are enabled to build stores of wisdom not calibrated by nomenclature - which everyone can draw on, even those who are different and far from us.

If a shortcoming is found here too, it will be to teach us to be present in the world in (perhaps) other and further directions, or to bring out mission and creative maturity - not to remain fixated on partiality and minutiae.The allusion to the seven foods (multiplied because they are divided) supports the quotations regarding the malleable magma of biblical icons, such as those of Moses and Elijah: figures from the five Books of the Pentateuch [the basic Loaves], plus the two sections of Prophets and Writings [which act as 'companions'].

The first "five" are the essential fullness of food and wisdom for the soul, which is called to proceed beyond the surrounding hedges, breaking through the embankments of the boundary-subjugated mentality.

It is the basic nourishment of the human-divine spirit, to which, however, is added a young and fresh companion food, which precisely involves us (v.17.19).

[As St Augustine said: "The Word of God that is daily explained to you and in a certain sense 'broken' is also daily Bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38, 395). Complete food: basic food and 'companion' - historical and ideal, in code and in deed].

We become in Christ as an actualised and propulsive corpus of sensitive witnesses (and Scriptures!); admittedly reduced, not yet established and lacking in heroic phenomena, but accentuatedly sapiential and practical.

Announcers and sharers without clamorous proclamations of self-sufficiency, never enclosed within archaic fences - always in the making - therefore able to perceive unknown tracks.

And to break the Bread... that is, to be active, to go further, to share the little - to nourish, to overflow (multiplying the listening and the action of God) and to make even the desperate regain esteem.

We are children: like few and little fish (vv.17.19), who do not wallow in competitions that make life toxic - rather: called in the first person to write a singular, empathic and sacred Word-event.

Infants in the Lord, we swim in this different Water - sometimes perhaps outwardly veiled or muddy and murky; finally made transparent if only because it is yielding, compassionate and benevolent.

The old exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare the risk of Faith (v.13) would not have helped us to assimilate the proposal of Jesus the Messiah, Son of God, Saviour - acrostic of the Greek word "Ichtys" (fish: vv.17.19 diminutive).

He is the Father's Initiative-Response, support in the (unethereal) journey in search of the Hope of the poor - of all of us destitute people waiting.

It seems strange, for those of us who have grown accustomed to it: the working Faith has as its emblem the fractional Eucharist, a revolution of sacredness.

Indeed, the purpose of evangelisation is to participate in and emancipate the complete being from all that threatens it, not only in its extreme limitation: also in its everyday action - to the point of seeking communion of goods.

The prodigy is placed after the rejection in Nazareth (Mt 13:53-57), Herod's ambiguous and superstitious questioning (vv.1-2), and the execution of the Baptist (vv.3-12).

In short, the Source and Summit Sign of the community of sons is a creative gesture that imposes a shift in vision and action, an absolutely new eye and gesture.

[In this way, faced with the destitution of the many - caused by the greed of the few - the attitude of the authentic Church does not take pleasure in emblems and fervour, nor in partial calls to distinction].

The breaking of the Bread takes over from the Manna dropped from above in the desert (Mt 14:15; 15:33; Mk 8:4) and entails its distribution - not only in particular situations.

There is no settling, in multiplying life for all.

This is the attitude of the living Body of the thaumaturgic Christ [not the miracle-worker] who feels called to be active in every circumstance.

Grateful adherence must lead us to the gift and sharing of 'bread'.

If it is not punctual alms-giving, external pietism, mannerist welfarism, there is the result:

Women and men will eat, they will remain full, and there will be food left over for others. Indeed, not all of God's intended guests are yet present....

We note that it had not even occurred to the disciples that the solution might come from the people themselves and their spirit - not from the patented leaders or some individual benefactor.

Unexpected solution: the question of food is solved not from above, but from within the people and with the few loaves they brought with them.

There is no solution with the verb 'to multiply' - i.e. 'to increase' ... what? relationships that count, increase property, pile up wiles.

The only therapy is the coexistence of 'breaking', 'giving', 'offering' (v.19). And everyone is involved, no one privileged.

At that time, competitiveness and class mentality characterised the pyramid society of the empire - and began to infiltrate even the small community, just starting out.

As if the Lord and the God of retribution could live side by side, yet.

It is the communion of the needy that conversely rises to the top in the non-artisanal Church.

Real sharing acts as the professor of the ubiquitous veteran, pretentious people, the only ones yet to be converted.The germ of their 'durability' should be not altitude and role, but love.

Such is the only meaning of sacred gestures; not other projects tinged with prevarication, or appearance.

The 'belonging' astound.

For the Lord, the distant (though still poised in their choices) are full participants in the messianic banquet - without preclusions, nor disciplines of the arcane with nerve-racking expectations.

Conversely, that Canteen presses in favour of others who have yet to be called. For a kind of re-establishment of the original Unity.

In short, the Redemption does not belong to elites concerned with the stability of their rule - which it is even the weak who must sustain.

Saved life comes to us by incorporation.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you ever broken your bread, passed on happiness and made recoveries that renew relationships, putting people who do not even have self-esteem back on their feet? Or have you favoured attitudes of the monarchical elite?

Appendix

Jesus wants contributions, resources and skills to work in synergy; to serve and unite for the life of the multitudes (vv.13-15.19).

The Eucharistic gesture - breaking of life - says: new heavens and new earth do not correspond to the world in which each one hurries to reap for himself or his circle, in order to grab the maximum of resources.

Even the Apostles - called by Jesus but still remaining at a safe distance from Him - are not the owners of the Bread, but those who are to give nourishment to all (v.16), to create abundance where there is none.

They are to share, not to rule - least of all over the opinions or situations of others. And, in order to avoid impoverishment and damage to happiness, place themselves in a logic of overcoming.

The Son reflects God's design in compassion for the needy crowd. However, his solution does not gloss over us - simply wiping away tears or erasing humiliation.

It invites us to use what we have, although this may seem ridiculous. But it teaches that shifting energies creates prodigious results.

This is how we respond in Christ to the world's great problems: by recovering the condition of the man viator - a being of passage, his essential mark - and by sharing goods.

Our real nakedness, the vicissitudes and experiences of our many brothers and sisters, who are different, are resources not to be evaluated with distrust, "as dangerous competitors or enemies" of our fulfilment (FT no.151).

The Lord does not agree with the idea of everyone making do (v.15); neither does he like alms, or the old idol of "buying" (v.15).

He imposes on his own that "the crowds" (plural) lie down in abundance (v.19 Greek text) as the lords and free people did at solemn banquets.

He wants and insists that it is primarily the disciples who serve (v.19), not other slaves.

And perhaps the most astounding thing is that he does not impose prior gestures of purification on any of those present, as was the custom in traditional, hypocritically sterilised and selective religiosity.

Before the meal, it required ablution: a ceremony that emphasised a sacred detachment between the pure and the impure.

The disciples' only task is to distribute the Food - then to be chopped up, sifted and assimilated personally, to build a new world - not to X-ray it beforehand; much less to be interested in it.

In religion we have a long rigmarole of fulfilments to observe in order to present ourselves before God, which unfortunately normalise us.

In the path of Faith, it is the free encounter with the Lord that makes us grow and complete, making us perfect and uncontaminated, unconditionally... extracting authentic Pearls, precisely from our character eccentricities (those that depart from millimetric agreements).

His Kingdom? All invited and brothers (even not in agreement), no one master or ruler - destined to lead the humble by his own hand, always standing in front or above - because he is quicker and more able to manage himself.

The Eucharist remains a Call to Real Conviviality (of differences as they are) and an evergreen Reminder not to settle for individual devotions or a twinnable but empty spirituality.

The working Faith thus has the Eucharist as its emblem, a revolution of sacredness. It seems strange, for us who have grown accustomed to it.

The aim of evangelisation is to emancipate from everything that threatens life, not only in its extreme limitation, but also in its everyday action - to the point of seeking the communion of goods.

In Matthew 14 the prodigy is placed after Jesus was rejected from Nazareth, Herod's concern, the murder of the Baptist.

The Source and Summit Sign of the community of sons is a creative gesture that imposes a shift of vision, an absolutely new eye.In the face of the destitution of the many - caused by the greed of the few - the attitude of the authentic Church does not take pleasure in emblems and fervour, nor in partial calls to distinguish itself in almsgiving.

The breaking of the Bread takes the place of the Manna dropped from above in the desert and involves its distribution - not only in special situations (v.15).

There is no contentment in multiplying life for all.

This is the attitude of the living Body of the thaumaturgic Christ [not the miracle-worker] who feels called to be active in every circumstance.

Eucharistic participation must lead us to the gift and sharing of bread.

The result: women and men will eat, remain full, and there will be food left over for others [not all of God's intended guests are still present...].

We note that it had not even occurred to the disciples that the solution might come from the people themselves and their spirit - not just the paternalism of the leaders or some individual benefactor.

Unexpected solution: the question of food is solved not from above, but only from within the people and with the few loaves they brought with them (vv.15-17).

There is no solution with the verb 'multiply' - i.e. 'increase' ... relationships that count, increase property, pile up wiles.

The only therapy is 'to break', 'to give', 'to distribute' (vv.16-19 Greek text).

And everyone is involved, no one privileged.

At that time, competitiveness and class mentality characterised the society of the empire - and began to infiltrate even the small community, just starting out.

As if the Lord and the God of retribution could live side by side, yet.

It is the communion of the needy that conversely takes centre stage in the authentic Church.

Real sharing acts as the professor of the ubiquitous veteran, pretentious and pretentious, the only ones who have yet to be converted.

The germ of their 'longevity' should be not altitude and role, but love.

Such is the only meaning of sacred gestures, not other projects tinged with bullying, or appearance.

The 'belonging' and veterans astound.

For the Lord, the distant (though still poised in their choices) are full sharers in the messianic banquet - without preclusions, nor disciplines of the arcane or nerve-wracking expectations.

Conversely, that Canteen cries out in favour of others who have yet to be called, for a kind of re-establishment of the original Unity.

In short, the Redemption does not belong to the (pyramidal monarchical) elites who are concerned about the stability of their dominance - which it is even the weak who must sustain.

[As St. Augustine said: "The Word of God that is daily explained to you and in a certain sense 'broken' is also daily Bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38,395). Complete food: basic food and "companion" - historical and ideal, in code and in deed].

To internalise and live the message:

How does the Eucharistic gesture speak to you of the Revolution of Tenderness, and of your Calling by Name through the Church?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

This Sunday’s Gospel describes the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves that Jesus worked for a great throng of people who had followed him to listen to him and to be healed of various illnesses (cf. Mt 14:14).

As evening fell the disciples suggested to Jesus that he send the crowds away so that they might take some refreshment. But the Lord had something else in mind: “You give them something to eat” (Mt 14:16). However they had “only five loaves... and two fish”. Jesus’ subsequent action evokes the sacrament of the Eucharist: “He looked up to heaven, and blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds” (Mt 14:19).

The miracle consists in the brotherly sharing of a few loaves which, entrusted to the power of God, not only sufficed for everyone but enough was left over to fill 12 baskets. The Lord asked this of the disciples so that it would be they who distributed the bread to the multitude; in this way he taught and prepared them for their future apostolic mission: in fact, they were to bring to all the nourishment of the Word of life and of the sacraments.

In this miraculous sign the incarnation of God and the work of redemption are interwoven. Jesus, in fact, “went ashore” from the boat to meet the men and women (cf. Mt 14:14). St Maximus the Confessor said that the Word of God made himself present for our sake, by taking flesh, derived from us and conformed to us in all things save sin, in order to expose us to his teaching with words and examples suitable for us” (Ambigua 33: PG 91, 1285 C).

Here the Lord offers us an eloquent example of his compassion for people. We are reminded of all our brothers and sisters in the Horn of Africa who in these days are suffering the dramatic consequences of famine, exacerbated by war and by the lack of solid institutions. Christ is attentive to material needs but he wished to give more, because man always “hungers for more, he needs more” (Jesus of Nazareth, Doubleday, New York 2007, p. 267 (English translation). God’s love is present in the bread of Christ; in the encounter with him “we feed on the living God himself, so to speak, we truly eat the ‘bread from Heaven’” (ibid. p. 268).

Dear friends. “in the Eucharist Jesus also makes us witnesses of God’s compassion towards all our brothers and sisters. The Eucharistic mystery thus gives rise to a service of charity towards neighbour” (Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum Caritatis, n. 88).

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 31 July 2011]

“How are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?"

Before the multitude which has followed him from the shores of the Sea of Galilee to the mountains in order to listen to his word, Jesus begins, with this question, the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves. This is the significant prelude to the long speech in which he reveals himself to the world as the real Bread of life which came down from heaven (cf. Jn 6:41).

1. We have listened to the evangelical narration: with five barley loaves and two fish, offered by a boy, Jesus feeds about five thousand people. But the latter, not understanding the depth of the "sign" in which they have been involved, are convinced that they have at last found the King-Messiah, who will solve the political and economic problems of their nation. Before this obtuse misunderstanding of his mission, Jesus withdraws, all alone, to the mountains.

We, too, beloved Brothers and Sisters, have followed Jesus and continue to follow him. But we can and must ask ourselves "With what interior attitude?" With the true one of faith, which Jesus expected of the Apostles and of the multitude that he had fed, or with an attitude of incomprehension? Jesus presented himself on that occasion like, in fact more than, Moses who had fed the people of Israel in the desert during the Exodus. He presented himself like, in fact more than, Elisha, who had fed a hundred persons with twenty loaves of barley and grain. Jesus manifested himself, and manifests himself to us today, as the One who is capable of satisfying for ever the hunger of our hearts: "I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst." (Jn 6:33)

And man, especially modern man, is so hungry: hungry for truth, justice, love, peace, beauty; but, above all, hungry for God. "We must hunger for God!", St Augustine exclaims ("famelici Dei esse debemus": Enarrat. in psal. 146, n. 17,: PL 37, 1895 f.). It is he, the heavenly Father, who gives us the true bread!

2. This bread, which we need, is first and foremost Christ, who gives himself to us in the sacramental signs of the Eucharist, and makes us hear, at every Mass, the words of the last Supper: "Take and eat, all of you: this is my body offered in sacrifice for you." In the sacrament of the eucharistic bread—the Second Vatican Council affirms —"the unity of all believers who form one body in Christ (cf. I Cor 10:17) is both expressed and brought about. All men are called to this union with Christ, who is the light of the world, from whom we go forth, through whom we live, and toward whom our journey leads us." (Lumen Gentium, 3.)

The bread that we need is, moreover, the Word of God, because "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God" (Mt 4:4; cf. Dt 8:3). Certainly, men, too, can express and utter words of high value. But history shows us how the words of men are sometimes insufficient, ambiguous, disappointing, biased; while the Word of God is full of truth (cf. 2 Sam 7:28; 1 Cor 17:26); it is upright (Psalms 33:4); it is stable and remains for ever (cf. Psalms 119:89; 1 Pet 1:25).

We must listen religiously to this Word continually; assume it as the criterion of our way of thinking and acting; get to know it, by means of assiduous reading and personal meditation; but especially, we must day after day, in all our behaviour, make it ours, put it into practice,

The bread we need, finally, is grace; and we must invoke it, ask for it with sincere humility and tireless constancy, well aware that it is the most precious thing we can possess.

3. The path of our life, laid out for us by God's providential love, is a mysterious one, sometimes incomprehensible on the human plane, and nearly always hard and difficult. But the Father gives us the bread from heaven" (cf. In 6:32), to encourage us in our pilgrimage on earth.

I am happy to conclude with a passage from St Augustine, which sums up admirably that upon which we have meditated: "We can understand very well... how your Eucharist is daily food. The faithful know, in fact, what they receive and it is good that they should receive the daily bread necessary for this time. They pray for themselves, to become good, to be persevering in goodness, faith, and a good life... the Word of God, which is explained to us and, in a certain sense, broken, every day, is also daily bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38, 395).

May Christ Jesus always multiply his bread, also for us!

Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, homily 29 July 1979]

The Gospel [...] presents to us the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves (see Mt 14,13-21). The scene takes place in a deserted place, where Jesus had retired with His disciples. But the people found Him so as to listen to Him and to be healed: indeed, His words and His gestures restore and bring hope. At sundown, the crowd was still present and the disciples, practical men, invited Jesus to send them away so that they could go and find something to eat. But He answered: “You give them something to eat” (v. 16). We can imagine the disciples’ faces! Jesus was well aware of what He was about to do, but He wanted to change their attitude: not to say, “send them away,” “let them fend for themselves”, “let them find something to eat”, but rather, “what does Providence offer us to share?” These are two opposite ways of behaving. And Jesus wants to bring them to the second way of behaving because the first proposal is that of the practical person, but is not generous: “send them away so they can go and find, let them fend for themselves.” Jesus thinks another way. Jesus wants to use this situation to educate His friends, both then and now, about God’s logic. And what is God’s logic that we see here? The logic of taking responsibility for others. The logic of not washing one’s hands, the logic of not looking the other way. No. The logic of taking responsibility for others. That “let them fend for themselves” should not enter into the Christian vocabulary.

As soon as one of the Twelve says, realistically, “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish”, Jesus answers, “Bring them here to me” (vv. 17-18). He takes the food in His hands, raises His eyes heavenward, recites the blessing and begins to break it and  give the pieces to the disciples to hand out. And those loaves and fish did not run out; there was enough, and plenty left over for thousands of people.

With this gesture, Jesus demonstrates His power; not in a spectacular way but as a sign of charity, of God the Father’s generosity toward His weary and needy children. He is immersed in the life of His people, He understands their fatigue and their limitations, but He does not allow anyone to be lost, or to lose out: He nourishes them with His word and provides food in plenty for sustenance.

In this Gospel passage we can perceive a reference to the Eucharist, especially in the description of the blessing, the breaking of the bread, delivery to the disciples, and distribution to the people (v. 19). It is noteworthy how close the link is between the Eucharistic bread, nourishment for eternal life, and daily bread, necessary for earthly life. Before offering Himself to the Father as the Bread of salvation, Jesus ensures there is food for those who follow Him and who, in order to be with Him, forgot to make provisions. At times the spiritual and the material are in opposition, but in reality spiritualism, like materialism, is alien to the Bible. It is not biblical language.

The compassion and tenderness that Jesus showed towards the crowds is not sentimentality, but rather the concrete manifestation of the love that cares for the people’s needs. And we are called to approach the Eucharistic table with these same attitudes of Jesus: compassion for the needs of others, this word that is repeated in the Gospel when Jesus sees a problem, an illness or these people without food… “He had compassion.” “He had compassion”. Compassion is not a purely material feeling; true compassion is patire con [to suffer with], to take others’ sorrows on ourselves. Perhaps it would do us good today to ask ourselves: Do I feel compassion when I read news about war, about hunger, about the pandemic? So many things… Do I feel compassion toward those people? Do I feel compassion toward the people who are near to me? Am I capable of suffering with them, or do I look the other way, or “they can fend for themselves”? Let us not forget this word “compassion,” which is trust in the provident love of the Father, and means courageous sharing.

May Mary Most Holy help us to walk the path that the Lord shows us in today's Gospel. It is the journey of fraternity, which is essential in order to face the poverty and suffering of this world, especially in this tragic moment, and which projects us beyond the world itself, because it is a journey that begins with God and returns to God.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 2 August 2020]