Approach without being submissive

(Mt 19:13-15)

Pope Francis has often reiterated: "I would rather have a Church that has crashed than a Church that is sick from closure. Not a 'comfort zone', but a 'field hospital' involved in our hopes, even wounded - not absent, not detached.

In the apostolic exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (49): 'I prefer a Church that is bumpy, wounded and dirty from being out on the streets, rather than a Church that is sick from closure and the comfort of clinging to its own security'.

In short, in the words of the Gospel of Matthew, one must not get carried away by the obvious dismissive judgments about legal impurity. According to Jesus, a useless, artificial burden; one that clips one's wings and makes one unhappy.

On the contrary, it is always good to acquire a different perception of the things of God in man. And it is not necessary to be well trained in customary practices.

What was happening in the small churches of Galilee and Syria in the early 1980s? Many pagans were beginning to show up at the doorsteps of the (Judaizing) communities and were becoming a majority.

The members of the chain of command prevented the distant and incipient from the immediacy of a face-to-face relationship with the Lord - evaluating them as unqualified from the point of view of observing the provisions of the 'fathers'.

Some haughty veterans regarded the newcomers who asked to be received as still turbid servants ["paidìa": age 9-11], defiled and mixed.

At that time, in the conditions in which they lived, young boys certainly did not fulfil the laws of religious purity; but they served others, both at home and at work.

In short, Jesus proposes a paradigm shift to the Apostles.

Stooping? An unbearable model of life for the ambitious veterans who frequently surrounded the Master - but struggled to follow his vital teaching.

The freedom to get off the board - vice versa - was a human figure to be chiselled as the 'model' of the authentic disciple, who reflects Christ and 'conquers' the Kingdom.

Making peace with the world of judgements.

The proposal seemed an absurdity for religions (all pyramidal), not for the person of Faith who proceeds on the Way, in the Spirit.

God does not at all believe that His holiness is endangered by contact with the normal realities of this world.

On the contrary, the Lord and Master identifies Himself precisely with the garzoncini of shop and home, with the 'polluted', socially null and misjudged beings [by any legalistic clique, however devout].

This is to say: the disciple of the Kingdom cannot afford to disregard the life needs of others.

Forget clichés, nomenclature, duplicity and recognised procedures.

What counts is the concrete good of the real person, just as he or she is.

The acceptance of children - i.e. those who are at the beginning - in their condition of creative and affective integrity, still considered ambiguous and transgressive, is an icon of an inverted social, religious and class logic; radically unequal.

So woe to those who prevent the insignificant from going to the Lord!

The laying on of hands on them (vv.13.15) is a sign of redemption, valorisation, emancipation, and promotion of the condition of the last, the excluded, the mocked, the destitute, and the 'mestizos' [not of squares all clarity and whiteness].

Those who welcome a privileged, an observant purist, one who has made his way but does not accept change (a dummy often of good manners and bad habits) hardly welcome Jesus.

In fact, and today's chronicle itself is full of bitter surprises, the directors - so mediocre - who select (v.13) and make adultids are selfish and dangerous big babies, not 'children'.

Only the misunderstood and uncertain are to be placed at the centre of the new Church we are to build.

To internalise and live the message:

Are there any vital aspects of you that you had to tarnish in order to be welcomed into the community?

The Fickleness without Citizenship

In the synodal journey, listening must take into account the sensus fidei, but it must not neglect all those "presentiments" embodied where we would not expect it: there may be a "sniff without citizenship", but it is no less effective. The Holy Spirit in his freedom knows no boundaries, nor does he allow himself to be limited by affiliations. If the parish is the home of everyone in the neighbourhood, not an exclusive club, I recommend: leave doors and windows open, do not limit yourself to considering only those who attend or think like you - that will be 3, 4 or 5%, no more. Allow everyone to come in... Allow yourself to go out and let yourself be questioned, let their questions be your questions, allow yourself to walk together: the Spirit will lead you, trust the Spirit. Do not be afraid to enter into dialogue and allow yourselves to be moved by the dialogue: it is the dialogue of salvation.Do not be disenchanted, be prepared for surprises. There is an episode in the book of Numbers (ch. 22) that tells of a donkey who will become a prophetess of God. The Jews are concluding the long journey that will lead them to the promised land. Their passage frightens King Balak of Moab, who relies on the powers of the magician Balaam to stop the people, hoping to avoid a war. The magician, in his believing way, asks God what to do. God tells him not to humour the king, but he insists, so he relents and mounts a donkey to fulfil the command he has received. But the donkey changes course because it sees an angel with an unsheathed sword standing there to represent God's opposition. Balaam pulls her, beating her, without succeeding in getting her back on the path. Until the donkey starts talking, initiating a dialogue that will open the magician's eyes, transforming his mission of curse and death into a mission of blessing and life.

This story teaches us to trust that the Spirit will always make its voice heard. Even a donkey can become the voice of God, opening our eyes and converting our wrong directions. If a donkey can do it, how much more so can a baptised person, a priest, a bishop, a pope. It is enough to entrust ourselves to the Holy Spirit who uses all creatures to speak to us: he only asks us to clean our ears to hear properly.

(Pope Francis, Speech 18 September 2021)

68. Christ Jesus always manifested his preferential love for the little ones (cf. Mk 10:13-16). The Gospel itself is deeply permeated by the truth about children. What, indeed, is meant by these words: “unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 18:3)? Does not Jesus make the child a model, even for adults? The child has something which must never be lacking in those who would enter the kingdom of heaven. Heaven is promised to all who are simple, like children, to all who, like them, are filled with a spirit of trusting abandonment, pure and rich in goodness. They alone can find in God a Father and become, through Jesus, children of God. Sons and daughters of our parents, God wants us all to become his adopted children by grace!

[Pope Benedict, Africae munus]

Dear Children!

Jesus brings the Truth

The Child whom we see in the manger at Christmas grew up as the years passed. When he was twelve years old, as you know, he went for the first time with Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover. There, in the crowds of pilgrims, he was separated from his parents and, with other boys and girls of his own age, he stopped to listen to the teachers in the Temple, for a sort of "catechism lesson". The holidays were good opportunities for handing on the faith to children who were about the same age as Jesus. But on this occasion it happened that this extraordinary boy who had come from Nazareth not only asked very intelligent questions but also started to give profound answers to those who were teaching him. The questions and even more the answers astonished the Temple teachers. It was the same amazement which later on would mark Jesus' public preaching. The episode in the Temple of Jerusalem was simply the beginning and a kind of foreshadowing of what would happen some years later.

Dear boys and girls who are the same age as the twelve-year-old Jesus, are you not reminded now of the religion lessons in the parish and at school, lessons which you are invited to take part in? So I would like to ask you some questions: What do you think of your religion lessons? Do you become involved like the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple? Do you regularly go to these lessons at school and in the parish? Do your parents help you to do so?

The twelve-year-old Jesus became so interested in the religion lesson in the Temple of Jerusalem that, in a sense, he even forgot about his own parents. Mary and Joseph, having started off on the journey back to Nazareth with other pilgrims, soon realized that Jesus was not with them. They searched hard for him. They went back and only on the third day did they find him in Jerusalem, in the Temple. "Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been looking for you anxiously" (Lk 2:48). How strange is Jesus' answer and how it makes us stop and think! "How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" (Lk 2:49). It was an answer difficult to accept. The evangelist Luke simply adds that Mary "kept all these things in her heart" (2:51). In fact, it was an answer which would be understood only later, when Jesus, as a grown-up, began to preach and say that for his Heavenly Father he was ready to face any sufferings and even death on the cross.

From Jerusalem Jesus went back with Mary and Joseph to Nazareth where he was obedient to them (Lk 2:51). Regarding this period, before his public preaching began, the Gospel notes only that he "increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favour with God and man" (Lk 2:52).

Dear children, in the Child whom you look at in the Crib you must try to see also the twelve-year-old boy in the Temple in Jerusalem, talking with the teachers. He is the same grown man who later, at thirty years old, will begin to preach the word of God, will choose the Twelve Apostles, will be followed by crowds thirsting for the truth. At every step he will confirm his extraordinary teaching with signs of divine power: he will give sight to the blind, heal the sick, even raise the dead. And among the dead whom he will bring back to life there will be the twelve-year-old daughter of Jairus, and the son of the widow of Naim, given back alive to his weeping mother.

It is really true: this Child, now just born, once he is grown up, as Teacher of divine Truth, will show an extraordinary love for children. He will say to the Apostles: "Let the children come to me, do not hinder them", and he will add: "for to such belongs the kingdom of God" (Mk 10:14). Another time, as the Apostles are arguing about who is the greatest, he will put a child in front of them and say: "Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 18:3). On that occasion, he also spoke harsh words of warning: "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believes in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened round his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea" (Mt 18:6).

How important children are in the eyes of Jesus! We could even say that the Gospel is full of the truth about children. The whole of the Gospel could actually be read as the "Gospel of children".

What does it mean that "unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven"? Is not Jesus pointing to children as models even for grown-ups? In children there is something that must never be missing in people who want to enter the kingdom of heaven. People who are destined to go to heaven are simple like children, and like children are full of trust, rich in goodness and pure. Only people of this sort can find in God a Father and, thanks to Jesus, can become in their own turn children of God.

From the Vatican, 13 December 1994.

[Pope John Paul II, Letter to the Children in the Year of the Family] From the Vatican, 13 December 1994.

As you are aware, we are about to begin a synodal process, a journey on which the whole Church will reflect on the theme: Towards a Synodal Church: Communion, Participation, Mission: those three pillars. Three phases are planned, and will take place between October 2021 and October 2023. This process was conceived as an exercise in mutual listening. I want to emphasize this. It is an exercise of mutual listening, conducted at all levels of the Church and involving the entire People of God. The Cardinal Vicar, the auxiliary bishops, priests, religious and laity have to listen to one another, and then to everyone else. Listening, speaking and listening. It is not about garnering opinions, not a survey, but a matter of listening to the Holy Spirit, as we read in the book of Revelation: “Whoever has ears should listen to what the Spirit says to the churches” (2:7). To have ears, to listen, is the first thing we need to do. To hear God’s voice, to sense his presence, to witness his passage and his breath of life.

Thus the prophet Elijah came to realize that God is always a God of surprises, even in the way he passes by and makes himself felt: “A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks… but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake – but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake, there was fire – but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire, there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak” (1 Kg 19:11-13).

That is how God speaks to us. We need to open our ears to hear that tiny whispering sound, the gentle breeze of God, which scholars also translate as “a quiet whisper” or “a small, still voice”.

The first step of the process (October 2021–April 2022) will take place in each diocese. That why I am here, as your bishop, for this moment of sharing, because it is very important that the Diocese of Rome be committed to this process. Wouldn’t it look bad if the Pope’s own diocese was not committed to this? Yes, it would look bad, for the Pope, but also for you!

Synodality is not a chapter in an ecclesiology textbook, much less a fad or a slogan to be bandied about in our meetings. Synodality is an expression of the Church’s nature, her form, style and mission. We can talk about the Church as being “synodal”, without reducing that word to yet another description or definition of the Church. I say this not as a theological opinion or even my own thinking, but based on what can be considered the first and most important “manual” of ecclesiology: the Acts of the Apostles.

The word “synod” says it all: it means “journeying together”. The Book of Acts is the story of a journey that started in Jerusalem, passed through Samaria and Judea, then on to the regions of Syria, Asia Minor, Greece, ending up in Rome. A journey that reveals how God’s word, and the people who heed and put their faith in that word, journey together. The word of God journeys with us. Everyone has a part to play; no one is a mere extra. This is important: everyone has a part to play. The Pope, the Cardinal Vicar and the auxiliary bishops are not more important than the others; no, all of us have a part to play and no one can be considered simply as an extra. At that time, the ministries were clearly seen as forms of service. Authority derived from listening to the voice of God and of the people, inseparably. This kept those who received it humble, serving the lowly with faith and love. Yet that story, that journey, was not merely geographical, it was also marked by a constant inner restlessness. This is essential: if Christians do not feel a deep inner restlessness, then something is missing. That inner restlessness is born of faith; it impels us to consider what it is best to do, what needs to be preserved or changed. History teaches us that it is not good for the Church to stand still (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 23). Movement is the fruit of docility to the Holy Spirit, who directs this history, in which all have a part to play, in which all are restless, never standing still.

Peter and Paul were not just two individuals with their own personalities. They represent two visions within much broader horizons. They were capable of reassessing things in the light of events, witnesses of an impulse that led them to stop and think – that is another expression we should remember: to stop and think. An impulse that drove them to be daring, to question, to change their minds, to make mistakes and learn from those mistakes, but above all to hope in spite of every difficulty. They were disciples of the Holy Spirit, who showed them the geography of salvation, opening doors and windows, breaking down walls, shattering chains and opening frontiers. This may mean setting out, changing course, leaving behind certain ideas that hold us back and prevent us from setting out and walking together.

We can see the Spirit driving Peter to go to the house of Cornelius, the pagan centurion, despite his qualms. Remember: Peter had had a disturbing vision in which he was told to eat things he considered impure. He was troubled, despite the assurance that what God has made clean should no longer be considered impure. While he was trying to grasp the significance of this vision, some men sent by Cornelius arrived. Cornelius too had received a vision and a message. He was a pious Roman official, sympathetic to Judaism, but not enough to be fully Jewish or Christian; he would not have made it past a religious “customs office”. Cornelius was a pagan, yet he was told that his prayers were heard by God and that he should send and ask Peter to come to his house. At this point, with Peter and his doubts, and Cornelius uncertain and confused, the Spirit overcomes Peter’s resistance and opens a new chapter of missionary history. That is how the Spirit works. In the meeting between those two men, we hear one of the most beautiful phrases of Christianity. Cornelius meets Peter and falls at his feet, but Peter, picking him up, tells him: “Get up. I too am a man” (Acts 10:26). All of us can say the same thing: “I am a man, I am a woman; we are all human”. This is something we should all say, bishops too, all of us: “Get up. I too am a man”.

The text also says that Peter conversed with Cornelius (cf. v. 27). Christianity should always be human and accessible, reconciling differences and distances, turning them into familiarity and proximity. One of the ills of the Church, indeed a perversion, is the clericalism that detaches priests and bishops from people, making them officials, not pastors. Saint Paul VI liked to quote the words of Terence: “I am a man: I regard nothing human as foreign to me”. The encounter between Peter and Cornelius resolved a problem; it helped bring about the decision to preach directly to the pagans, in the conviction that – as Peter put it – “God shows no partiality” (Acts 10:34). There can be no discrimination in the name of God. Discrimination is a sin among us too, whenever we start to say: “We are the pure, we are the elect, we belong to this movement that knows everything, we are...” No! We are the Church, all of us together.

You see, we cannot understand what it means to be “catholic” without thinking of this large, open and welcoming expanse. Being Church is a path to enter into this broad embrace of God. To return to the Acts of the Apostles, we see the emerging problem of how to organize the growing number of Christians, and particularly how to provide for the needs of the poor. Some were saying that their widows were being neglected. The solution was found by assembling the disciples and determining together that seven men would be appointed full time for diakonia, to serve the tables (Acts 6:1-7). In this way, though service, the Church advanced, journeyed together, was “synodal”, accompanied by discernment, amid the felt needs and realities of life and in the power of the Spirit. The Spirit is always the great “protagonist” of the Church’s life.

There was also the clash of differing visions and expectations. We need not be afraid when the same thing happens today. Would that we could argue like that! Arguments are a sign of docility and openness to the Spirit. Serious conflicts can also take place, as was the case with the issue of circumcision for pagan converts, which was settled with the deliberation of the so-called Council of Jerusalem, the first Council. Today too, there can be a rigid way of looking at things, one that restricts God’s makrothymía, his patient, profound, broad and farsighted way of seeing things. God sees into the distance; God is not in a hurry. Rigidity is another perversion, a sin against the patience of God, a sin against God’s sovereignty. Today too.

So it was back then. Some converts from Judaism, in their self-absorption, maintained that there could be no salvation without submission to the Law of Moses. In this way, they opposed Paul, who proclaimed salvation directly in the name of Jesus. This opposition would have compromised the reception of the new pagan converts. Paul and Barnabas were sent to Jerusalem, to the Apostles and the elders. It was not easy: in discussing this problem, the arguments appeared irreconcilable; they debated at length. It was a matter of recognizing God’s freedom of action, that no obstacles could prevent him from touching the hearts of people of any moral or religious background. The situation was resolved when they accepted the evidence that “God, who knows the heart” – as a good “cardiologist” – was on the side of the pagans being admitted to salvation, since he “gave them the Holy Spirit just as he did to us” (Acts 15:8). In this way, respect was shown for the sensibilities of all and excesses were tempered. They learned from Peter’s experience with Cornelius. Indeed, the final “document” presents the Spirit as the protagonist in the process of decision-making and reflects the wisdom that he is always capable of inspiring: “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessary things” (Acts 15:28).

“… and to us”. In this Synod, we want to get to the point where we can say, “it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us”, for, guided by the Holy Spirit, you will be in constant dialogue among yourselves, but also in dialogue with the Holy Spirit. Remember those words: “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us not to place on you any burden…” “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us”. That is how you should try to discuss things at every stage of this synodal process. Without the Holy Spirit, this will be a kind of diocesan parliament, but not a Synod. We are not holding a diocesan parliament, examining this or that question, but making a journey of listening to one another and to the Holy Spirit, discussing yes, but discussing with the Holy Spirit, which is a way of praying.

“To the Holy Spirit and to us”. Still, it is always tempting to do things on our own, in an “ecclesiology of substitution”, which can take many forms. As if, once ascended to heaven, the Lord had left a void needing to be filled, and we ourselves have to fill it. No, the Lord has left us the Spirit! Jesus’ words are very clear: “I will pray to the Father and he will give you another Paraclete, to stay with you forever… I will not leave you orphans” (Jn 14:16.18). In fulfilment of this promise, the Church is a sacrament, as we read in Lumen Gentium, 1: “The Church, in Christ, is like a sacrament – a sign and instrument of communion with God and of the unity of the whole human race”. That sentence, which echoes the testimony of the Council of Jerusalem, contradicts those who would take God’s place, presuming to shape the Church on the basis of their own cultural and historical convictions, forcing it to set up armed borders, toll booths, forms of spirituality that blaspheme the gratuitousness of God’s involvement in our lives. When the Church is a witness, in word and deed, of God’s unconditional love, of his welcoming embrace, she authentically expresses her catholicity. And she is impelled, from within and without, to be present in every time and place. That impulse and ability are the Spirit’s gift: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). To receive the power of the Holy Spirit to become witnesses: this is our path as Church, and we will be Church if we take this path.

Being a synodal Church means being a Church that is the sacrament of Christ’s promise that the Spirit will always be with us. We show this by growing in our relationship with the Spirit and the world to come. There will always be disagreements, thank God, but solutions have to be sought by listening to God and to the ways he speaks in in our midst. By praying and opening our eyes to everything around us; by practicing a life of fidelity to the Gospel; by seeking answers in God’s revelation through a pilgrim hermeneutic capable of persevering in the journey begun in the Acts of the Apostles. This is important: the way to understand and interpret is through a pilgrim hermeneutic, one that is always journeying. The journey that began after the Council? No. The journey that began with the first Apostles and has continued ever since. Once the Church stops, she is no longer Church, but a lovely pious association, for she keeps the Holy Spirit in a cage. A pilgrim hermeneutic capable of persevering in the journey begun in the Acts of the Apostles. Otherwise, the Holy Spirit would be demeaned. Gustav Mahler – as I have said on other occasions – once stated that fidelity to tradition does not consist in worshiping ashes but in keeping a fire burning. As you begin this synodal journey, I ask you: what are you more inclined to do: guard the ashes of the Church, in other words, your association or group, or keep the fire burning? Are you more inclined to worship what you cherish, and which keep you self-enclosed – “I belong to Peter, I belong to Paul, I belong to this association, you to that one, I am a priest, I am a bishop…” – or do you feel called to keep the fire of the Spirit burning? Mahler was a great composer, but those words showed that he was also a teacher of wisdom. Dei Verbum (no. 8), citing the Letter to the Hebrews, tells us that “God, who spoke in partial and various ways to our fathers (Heb 1:1), uninterruptedly converses with the bride of his beloved Son”. Saint Vincent of Lérins aptly compared human growth to the development of the Church’s Tradition, which is passed on from one generation to the next. He tells us that “the deposit of faith” cannot be preserved without making it advance in such a way as “to be consolidated by years, enlarged by time, refined by age” (Commonitorium primum, 23: ut annis consolidetur, dilatetur tempore, sublimetur aetate). This is how our own journey should be. For reality, including theology, is like water; unless it keeps flowing, it becomes stagnant and putrefies. A stagnant Church starts to decay.

You see, then, how our Tradition is like a mass of leavened dough; we can see it growing and in that growth is communion: journeying together brings about true communion. Here too, the Acts of the Apostles can help us by showing us that communion does not suppress differences. It is the wonder of Pentecost, where different languages are not obstacles; by the working of the Holy Spirit, “each one heard them speaking in his own language” (Acts 2:8). Feeling at home, different but together on the same journey. [Pardon me for speaking so long, but the Synod is a serious matter, and so I have felt free to speak at length...]

To return to the synodal process, the diocesan phase is very important, since it involves listening to all the baptized, the subject of the infallible sensus fidei in credendo. There is a certain resistance to moving beyond the image of a Church rigidly divided into leaders and followers, those who teach and those who are taught; we forget that God likes to overturn things: as Mary said, “he has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly” (Lk 1:52). Journeying together tends to be more horizontal than vertical; a synodal Church clears the horizon where Christ, our sun, rises, while erecting monuments to hierarchy covers it. Shepherds walk with their people: we shepherds walk with our people, at times in front, at times in the middle, at times behind. A good shepherd should move that way: in front to lead, in the middle to encourage and preserve the smell of the flock, and behind, since the people too have their own “sense of smell”. They have a nose for finding new paths for the journey, or for finding the road when the way is lost. I want to emphasize this, also for the bishops and priests of the diocese. In this synodal process, they should ask: “Am I capable of walking, of moving, in front, in between and behind, or do I remain seated in my chair, with mitre and crozier?” Shepherds in the midst of the flock, yet remaining shepherds, not the flock. The flock knows we are shepherds, the flock knows the difference. In front to show the way, in the middle to sense how people feel, behind to help the stragglers, letting the people sniff out where the best pastures are found.

The sensus fidei gives everyone a share in the dignity of the prophetic office of Christ (cf. Lumen Gentium, 34-35), so that they can discern the paths of the Gospel in the present time. It is the “sense of smell” proper to the sheep, but let us be careful: in the history of salvation, we are all sheep with regard to the Shepherd who is the Lord. The image (of sheep) helps us understand the two dimensions that contribute to this “sense of smell”. One is individual and the other communitarian: we are sheep, yet we are also members of the flock, which in this case means the Church. These days, in the Office of Readings, we are reading from Augustine’s sermon on pastors, where he tells us, “with you I am a sheep; for you I am a shepherd”. These two aspects, individual and ecclesial, are inseparable: there can be no sensus fidei without sharing in the life of the Church, which is more than mere Catholic activism; it must above all be that “sense” that is nourished by the “mind of Christ” (Phil 2:5).

The exercise of the sensus fidei cannot be reduced to the communication and comparison of our own opinions on this or that issue, or a single aspect of the Church’s teaching or discipline. No, those are instruments, verbalizations, dogmatic or disciplinary statements. The idea of distinguishing between majorities and minorities must not prevail: that is what parliaments do. How many times have those who were “rejected” become “the cornerstone” (cf. Ps 118:22; Mt 21:42), while those who were “far away” have drawn “near” (Eph 2:13). The marginalized, the poor, the hopeless were chosen to be a sacrament of Christ (cf. Mt 25:31-46). The Church is like that. And whenever some groups wanted to stand out more, those groups always ended badly, even denying salvation, in heresies. We can think of the heresies that claimed to lead the Church forward, like Pelagianism, and then Jansenism. Every heresy ended badly. Gnosticism and Pelagianism are constant temptations for the Church. We are so rightly concerned for the dignity of our liturgical celebrations, but we can easily end up simply becoming complacent. Saint John Chrysostom warns us: “Do you want to honour the body of Christ? Do not allow it to be despised in its members, that is, in the poor who lack clothes to cover themselves. Do not honour him here in the church with rich fabrics while outside you neglect him when he is suffering from cold and naked. The one who said, “this is my body”, confirming the fact with his word, also said, “you saw me hungry and you did not feed me” and, “whenever you failed to do these things to one of the least of these, you failed to do it to me” (Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew, 50, 3). You may say to me: “Father, what do you mean? Are the poor, the beggars, young drug addicts, all those people that society discards, part of the Synod too?”

Yes, dear friends. It is not me who is saying this, but the Lord. They too are part of the Church, and you will not properly celebrate the Synod unless you somehow make them part of it (in a way to be determined), or spend time with them, not only listening to what they have to say, but also feeling what they feel, listening to them even if they may insult you. The Synod is for everyone, and it is meant to include everyone. The Synod is also about discussing our problems, the problems I have as your Bishop, the problems that the auxiliary Bishops have, the problems that priests and laity have, the problems that groups and associations have. So many problems! Yet unless we include the “problem people” of society, those left out, we will never be able to deal with our own problems. This is important: that we let our own problems come out in the dialogue, without trying to hide them or justify them. Do not be afraid!

We should feel ourselves part of one great people which has received God’s promises. Those promises speak of a future in which all are invited to partake of the banquet God has prepared for every people (cf. Is 25:6). Here I would note that even the notion “People of God” can be interpreted in a rigid and divisive way, in terms of exclusivity and privilege; that was the case with the notion of divine “election”, which the prophets had to correct, showing how it should rightly be understood. Being God’s people is not a privilege but a gift that we receive, not for ourselves but for everyone. The gift we receive is meant to be given in turn. That is what vocation is: a gift we receive for others, for everyone. A gift that is also a responsibility. The responsibility of witnessing by our deeds, not just our words, to God’s wonderful works, which, once known, help people to acknowledge his existence and to receive his salvation. Election is a gift. The question is this: if I am a Christian, if I believe in Christ, how do I give that gift to others? God’s universal saving will is offered to history, to all humanity, through the incarnation of his Son, so that all men and women can become his children, brothers and sisters among themselves, thanks to the mediation of the Church. That is how universal reconciliation is accomplished between God and humanity, that unity of the whole human family, of which the Church is a sign and instrument (cf. Lumen Gentium, 1). In the period prior to the Second Vatican Council, thanks to the study of the Fathers of the Church, there was a renewed realization that the people of God is directed towards the coming of the Kingdom, towards the unity of the human family created and loved by God. The Church, as we know and experience her in the apostolic succession, should be conscious of her relationship to this universal divine election and carry out her mission in its light. In that same spirit, I wrote my encyclical Fratelli Tutti. As Saint Paul VI said, the Church is a teacher of humanity, and today she aims at becoming a school of fraternity.

Why do I say these things? Because in the synodal process, our listening must take into account the sensus fidei, but it must not neglect all those “intuitions” found where we would least expect them, “freewheeling”, but no less important for that reason. The Holy Spirit in his freedom knows no boundaries or tests of admission. If the parish is to be a home to everyone in the neighbourhood, and not a kind of exclusive club, please, let’s keep the doors and windows open. Don’t limit yourself to those who come to church or think as you do – they may be no more than 3, 4 or 5 percent. Let everyone come in… Go out and meet them, let them question you, let their questions become your questions. Journey together: the Spirit will lead you; trust in the Spirit. Do not be afraid to engage in dialogue and even to be taken aback by what you hear, for this is the dialogue of salvation.

Don’t be disheartened; be prepared for surprises. In the book of Numbers (22:8ff.) we hear of a donkey who became a prophet of God. The Hebrews were about to end the long journey that led them to the promised land. Their passage through his territory frightened Balak, the king of Moab, who told Balaam, a seer, to stop them, in hopes of avoiding a war. Balaam, who was in his own way a believer, asked God what to do. God told him not to go along with the king, but since the king insisted, Balaam set out on a donkey to do as the king said. The donkey, however, turned aside from the road because it saw an angel with an unsheathed sword, representing the opposition of God. Balaam tugged at the reins and beat the donkey, but could not get it to return to the road. Finally, the donkey opened his mouth and spoke, the beginning of a dialogue that would open the seer’s eyes and turn his mission of cursing and death into a mission of blessing and life.

This story teaches us to trust that the Spirit will always make his voice heard. Even a donkey can become the voice of God, can open our eyes and change our course when we go astray. If a donkey can do that, how much more can a baptized person, a priest, a bishop, a Pope do it? We need but rely on the Holy Spirit, who uses all of creation to speak to us: he only asks us to clean out our ears, to hear better.

[Pope Francis, Address to the Diocese of Rome, 18 September 2021]

Legalistic conception and hardness of heart

(Mt 19:3-12)

The controversy with the fanatics of the law highlights the need for a new messianic community, which goes beyond the exclusively legalistic moral conception.

The theme chosen by the Pharisees lent itself to putting Jesus in difficulty regarding the ideal of love.

The marriage law of the time required the wife to become the property of her husband.

So in any case the divorce redounded to the detriment of the woman, always seen as an inferior being.

In the society of the time, male domination and marginalization of the weak were established situations.

To protect the freedom of women [Dt 24:1-4], the law required that the tired husband (even for a nonsense or whim) still wrote a divorce "letter" that sanctioned her free.

Unlike Roman society, the wife didn’t have the same right: a social plague, which obscured her dignity. In practice she was like an object and a slave even in her own home.

But in creating the human being, this was not the intent of the Creator. Thus Jesus takes away the privileges - even domestic ones - asking for maximum equality of rights and duties.

He knew that the apostles themselves preferred not to marry than to renounce the exclusivity of command [v.10: «If the situation of a man with a woman is like this, it’s not worth getting married»].

The Master does not allow the dominion of the strong over the weak, therefore the man must lose hegemony over the woman. The new law is love, and love doesn’t allow possessions, emotional exploitation, fixed chains of command.

Both marriage and celibacy are choices that recognize the value of the Person. Awe-inspiring options for God's Kingdom - not in the service of any compromise, supremacy, or other pretentious interests.

The divine plan for humanity is transparent, broad and generous. The marriage union itself is called to express the goal of a fullness.

The stronger does not buy the weaker in ownership, but both enrich each other - with loyalty and even in differences, seen as advanced points of a proposal for growth and expansion.

Christ demands a new approach to ethics. This goes beyond the regulations, which they try to adapt to the order.

Therefore, the Lord's teaching here appeals to the divine creative Act which has engraved a capacity for gift and growth in person's nature - and it can’t be regulated by contract clauses, nor subjected to conditioning and subjection.

The step of the Faith builds people and communities, completing them (without too many accelerations, or forced restrictions). For a Love that originates us without rest.

The Family thus becomes a ‘small domestic Church’ because it’s both autonomous and comprehensive; no more nomenclatures, compromises, masks, gags or straitjackets.

Then the complementarity experienced in an authentic way - without exteriority - can go beyond the case studies of the legal systems.

In this way it has good personal and social outcomes, evoking the very Presence of God in the world.

[Friday 19th wk. in O.T.  August 16, 2024]

Mt 19:3-12 (cf. Gen 2:18-24)

We are familiar with the fluctuations of our emotionality: the person who now makes me lose my head, in a week's time will perhaps strike a nerve. Every morning we get up in a different mood; after a while the psyche gives opposite signals, then returns to its previous positions.

Obviously the invisible thread of the relationship cannot succeed happily and firmly if the assumptions are only seductive: it will end in an escalation of apathy or arguments.

The Word of God proposes a very wise discernment for engaged couples: the new birth.

A girl will leave her father if in the flamboyant relationship she discovers a prospect of improved security, and even greater fatherhood or protection possibilities; a young man will leave his mother if in the torch of the new relationship he sees a principle of welcome, listening and understanding unknown or superior to his own mother.

New Genesis: this is the unrenounceable vocational perspective, the only one capable of integrating the fatigue of putting oneself on the line and welcoming the idea in two of being able to also step out of one's own positions - even those at the beginning of the relationship.

In falling in love we allow ourselves to be activated and traversed by a mysterious Force that [even beyond the charm of the partner] wants to lead us to a sort of unleashing of hidden energies, in the incessant search for identity-character.

Love originates us, it leads us along a path not without interruptions, which incessantly force us back to the Beginning; to re-choose the values on which we have gambled. Hence, to be born and to begin anew, unexpectedly becoming more and more 'young'.

That flaming torch will make us make extraordinary encounters, first of all in the meaningful direction of the regenerated intimate; thus there will be no more need to capture the spouse, to keep him or her still or close to him or her.

It is the sacred desire that creates us; then - at Two - it becomes even more effectively the substance of what each one is called to be - through steps of happiness that prepare a new origination, a distinct outline and destiny.

All this so that from wave to wave, from birth to birth, and under the stimulus of continuous Dialogue, our essence is fulfilled, allowing the profound Calling by Name to flourish.

Natural complementarity can wear away with age, fatigue, frustrations. On the other hand, a reflection of absolute Love, which postpones and gives vertigo [because it places us in plots outside of time] is a spectacle that shakes, moves and conquers.

Irradiating God who creates (within us and in relationship), reflecting a great unceasing Origin within human unity, makes us be together - in two but with ourselves present, and be-With our Root.

An innate Source that does not express itself in straitjackets or in an identification: it gives meaning and breath even to the secondary, the repetitive and everyday that undermines - and seems to want us to fade into disenchantment.

If the idea of the Principle is always at home, it will no longer be necessary for the bark of everyday life to change, nor for too many situations to change: it is that glimpse of Eternity that makes one re-born into the (personal but complete) human project of Genesis.

It is a Presence... and a Source that generates, and the Life Horizon of the One who puts Himself into things... that changes so much of our little things.

The Action of the One who gives birth to the ancient and new radiance of the soul makes us grow and be born again, to be both with ourselves and more firmly together.

The Family becomes a small 'domestic church' from which 'the new citizens of human society are born' (Lumen Gentium no.11).

It thus manifests and unfolds the icon of a God who does not express Himself rigidly, but in creating.

Thanks to Parents who are able to second the "vocation proper to each one", in the new beginnings and in the rush of successive sprouts and buds each sapling "will leave his father and mother".

To internalise and live the message:

What more has the church experience given you in understanding the man-woman relationship? What about communion and autonomy?

Legalistic conception and hardness of heart

(Mt 19:3-12)

The polemic with the fanatics of the law emphasises the need for a new messianic community, which overcomes the exclusively legalistic moral conception.

The theme chosen by the Pharisees lent itself to challenging Jesus on the ideal of love.

The marriage law of the time required the wife to make herself the husband's property.

So in any case, divorce reverberated against the woman, always seen as an inferior being.

In the society of the time, macho domination and marginalisation of the weak were established situations.

In order to protect the woman's own freedom (Deut 24:1-4), the law required that the fed-up husband [even for a trifle or whim] should write a divorce 'letter' anyway, sanctioning her freedom.Unlike Roman society, the wife did not have the same right: a social plague, which obscured her dignity. In practice, she was like an object and a slave even in her own home.

But in creating the human being, this was not the Creator's intent. So Jesus removed privileges - even domestic privileges - demanding maximum equality of rights and duties.

He knew that the apostles themselves preferred not to marry than to renounce the exclusivity of leadership, even if only to scapegoat: "If the man's situation with the woman is like this, it is not convenient to marry" (Mt 19:10).

The Master does not allow the dominion of the strong over the weak; therefore man must lose his hegemony over woman.

The new law is love, and love does not allow possessions, emotional exploitation, fixed chains of command.

Both marriage and celibacy are choices that recognise the value of the Person. Awe-inspiring options for the sake of the Kingdom of God - not in the service of any compromise, supremacy, or other vested interests.

The divine plan for humanity is transparent, broad and generous. The marriage union itself - without being bound by domination or sector - is called to express the goal of fullness.

The stronger does not buy the weaker in property, but [shading from those rigid positions, without hypocrisy and field compromises] both are mutually enriched - with fairness and also in the divergences, taken as advanced points of a proposal of growth and expansion.

Christ demands a new approach to ethics [once 'jurisdiction-based'], now marked by primary values. This is beyond regulations, which seek to adapt to order... perhaps curbing our parodies, or mediocrity.

Thus, Christ's teaching here appeals to the divine creative Act, which in the nature of a person has engrained a capacity for gift and growth - and which cannot be regulated by contract clauses, nor subjected to conditioning and subjection.

The seed of love must be entrusted to the earth, even muddy soil; aware of one's own weakness and the power of other providential forces.

Even with steep or uncertain ground, if one does not rush into artificial prejudices (or lamentations of ingratitude) the very interweaving of the roots will genuinely produce its flowering.

In such a spontaneous, non-subordinate energetic current, a different self-denial will be built - where the given fact from being regular becomes an overcoming that unleashes other virtues or views.

Here, the step of Faith builds persons and communities, completing them (without too much acceleration, or imperial restrictions). For a Love that unceasingly originates us.

The Family thus becomes a 'little domestic Church' because it is both autonomous and inclusive; without nomenclature, compromises, masks, gags or straitjackets.

Then complementarity lived authentically - without externalities - can go beyond the casuistry of ordinances: it has good personal and social outcomes, evoking the very Presence of God in the world.

Gospel presents to us Jesus' words on marriage. He answered those who asked him whether it was lawful for a man to divorce his wife, as provided by a decree in Mosaic law (cf. Dt 24: 1), that this was a concession made to Moses because of man's "hardness of heart", whereas the truth about marriage dated back to "the beginning of creation" when, as is written of God in the Book of Genesis, "male and female he created them; for this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one" (Mk 10: 6-7; cf. Gn 1: 27; 2: 24).

And Jesus added: "So they are no longer two but one. What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder" (Mk 10: 8-9). This is God's original plan, as the Second Vatican Council also recalled in the Constitution Gaudium et Spes: "The intimate partnership of life and love which constitutes the married state has been established by the Creator and endowed by him with its own proper laws:  it is rooted in the contract of its partners... God himself is the author of marriage" (n. 48).

My thoughts now go to all Christian spouses: I thank the Lord with them for the gift of the Sacrament of Marriage, and I urge them to remain faithful to their vocation in every season of life, "in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health", as they promised in the sacramental rite.

Conscious of the grace they have received, may Christian husbands and wives build a family open to life and capable of facing united the many complex challenges of our time.

Today, there is a special need for their witness. There is a need for families that do not let themselves be swept away by modern cultural currents inspired by hedonism and relativism, and which are ready instead to carry out their mission in the Church and in society with generous dedication.

In the Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris Consortio, the Servant of God John Paul II wrote that "the sacrament of marriage makes Christian couples and parents witnesses of Christ "to the end of the earth', missionaries, in the true and proper sense, of love and life" (cf. n. 54). Their mission is directed both to inside the family - especially in reciprocal service and the education of the children - and to outside it. Indeed, the domestic community is called to be a sign of God's love for all.

The Christian family can only fulfil this mission if it is supported by divine grace. It is therefore necessary for Christian couples to pray tirelessly and to persevere in their daily efforts to maintain the commitments they assumed on their wedding day.

I invoke upon all families, especially those in difficulty, the motherly protection of Our Lady and of her husband Joseph. Mary, Queen of the family, pray for us!

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 8 October 2006]

1. The family in the modern world, as much as and perhaps more than any other institution, has been beset by the many profound and rapid changes that have affected society and culture. Many families are living this situation in fidelity to those values that constitute the foundation of the institution of the family. Others have become uncertain and bewildered over their role or even doubtful and almost unaware of the ultimate meaning and truth of conjugal and family life. Finally, there are others who are hindered by various situations of injustice in the realization of their fundamental rights.

Knowing that marriage and the family constitute one of the most precious of human values, the Church wishes to speak and offer her help to those who are already aware of the value of marriage and the family and seek to live it faithfully, to those who are uncertain and anxious and searching for the truth, and to those who are unjustly impeded from living freely their family lives. Supporting the first, illuminating the second and assisting the others, the Church offers her services to every person who wonders about the destiny of marriage and the family.

In a particular way the Church addresses the young, who are beginning their journey towards marriage and family life, for the purpose of presenting them with new horizons, helping them to discover the beauty and grandeur of the vocation to love and the service of life.

[Pope John Paul II, Familiaris Consortio]

Gospel reading (cf. Mk 10:2-16) offers us Jesus’ words on marriage. The passage opens with the provocation of the Pharisees who ask Jesus if it is “lawful for a man to divorce his wife”, as the Law of Moses provides (cf. vv. 2-4). Jesus firstly, with the wisdom and authority that come to him from the Father, puts the Mosaic prescription into perspective, saying: “For your hardness of heart he” — that is, the ancient legislator — “wrote you this commandment” (v. 5). Thus it is a concession that is needed to mend the flaws created by our selfishness, but it does not correspond to the Creator’s original intention.

And here, Jesus again takes up the Book of Genesis: “from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female’. ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one’” (vv. 6-8). And he concludes: “What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder” (v. 9). In the Creator’s original plan, it is not that a man marries a woman and, if things do not go well, he repudiates her. No. Rather, the man and the woman are called to recognize each other, to complete each other, to help each other in marriage.

This teaching of Jesus is very clear and defends the dignity of marriage as a union of love which implies fidelity. What allows the spouses to remain united in marriage is a love of mutual giving supported by Christ’s grace. However, if in the spouses, individual interests, one’s own satisfaction prevails, then their union cannot endure.

And the Gospel passage itself reminds us, with great realism, that man and woman, called to experience a relationship of love, may regretfully behave in a way that places it in crisis. Jesus does not admit all that can lead to the failure of the relationship. He does so in order to confirm God’s plan, in which the power and beauty of the human relationship emerge. The Church, on the one hand, does not tire of confirming the beauty of the family as it was consigned to us by Scripture and by Tradition; at the same time, she strives to make her maternal closeness tangibly felt by those who experience relationships that are broken or that continue in a difficult and trying way.

God’s way of acting with his unfaithful people — that is, with us — teaches us that wounded love can be healed by God through mercy and forgiveness. For this reason in these situations, the Church is not asked to express immediately and only condemnation. On the contrary, before so many painful marital failures, she feels called to show love, charity and mercy, in order to lead wounded and lost hearts back to God.

Let us invoke the Virgin Mary, that she help married couples to always live and renew their union, beginning with God’s original Gift.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 7 October 2018]

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B (11 August 2024)

Biblical references: 

First reading: "By the power of that food he walked up to the mountain of God" (1 Kings 19:4-8)

Responsorial Psalm: "Taste and see how good the Lord is" (Psalm 33/34 2-3,4-5) 

Second Reading: "Walk in charity like Christ" (Eph 4,30-5,2)

Gospel: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven" (Jn 6:411-51)

1. God never leaves us alone. In the first reading we meet the prophet Elijah, Eliyyah meaning "My God is Yah" first syllable of God's name. A name that indicates well his characteristics as a prophet who fought a relentless battle against idolatry. At a certain point, however, he felt his strength waning, a situation that can happen to anyone, and being left alone and abandoned by all, he went into the desert in despair to escape Queen Jezebel who wanted to kill him. Drought, famine, loneliness, physical and moral exhaustion: the desert mirrored his inner emptiness made more acute by the fear of death. But God did not abandon him and his flight turned into a pilgrimage to the source of the Jewish faith, Mount Sinai, also called Horeb. God draws him to the Mountain of the Covenant, where he once called Moses (Ex 3) to deliver to him the tablets of the law (Ex 19) and showed him in the darkness of a cave his mysterious radiance (Ex 33:21-23). From that encounter was born the Jewish people liberated from Egyptian slavery, a metaphor for all slavery. In that same place, the new birth will take place for Elijah as the great prophet of Israel. We will get to know all this better with the miracles performed in the house of the widow of Sarepta (1 R 17:7-24) in the next XXXII Sunday of Ordinary Time, today instead we stay with Elijah, who after a day's journey tired and desperate doubts even himself because he becomes aware of his unworthiness. God does not leave him alone and an angel gives him bread, water and above all comfort from Heaven to understand the meaning of his mission. If until then he had defended an all-powerful God who destroys his enemies and had challenged him on Mount Carmel against the 450 priests of Baal, now to discover the true face of God he will have to enter the same cavern of Horeb where Moses saw the Lord: only then will Elijah also understand that the God of Love is not revealed in the hurricane, the earthquake and the fire, but in the murmur of a gentle breeze (1 R 19:12). The first reading today describes her journey of forty days and forty nights to prepare for this encounter. In the Bible, the number forty always indicates a gestation, and what the prophet went through recalls our personal experience: to be born again, one must pass through the desert and receive as a gift the bread and water that restore life when one feels abandoned and lost on the brink of suicide, despair, enslaved to sin and marked by all kinds of physical and moral suffering. Elijah believed himself to be privileged because he was called by God, now he discovers that the prophet is one like the others to whom God entrusts a mission far beyond his strength: he experiences, however, that the Lord does not abandon anyone and there are no situations that escape the power of his mercy. This is echoed in the responsorial psalm: "the poor man cries out and the Lord hears him, rescues him from all his distress" (Psalm 33/34).

2. From here comes an invitation for all: every time we celebrate the Eucharist, we hear the Lord whispering in our hearts: 'Rise up and eat, for long is the road ahead of you'.   

The inner unease of the prophet Elijah appears, albeit in a different context, in the restlessness of Jesus' listeners in the synagogue of Capernaum. Last Sunday, his discourse had stopped at these words: "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall never hunger", expressions that sounded strange and aroused perplexity and criticism in his listeners. The Jewish people knew well that there are two kinds of bread: material bread and spiritual bread, and they knew that the only spiritual bread is the word of God, as we read in Deuteronomy: "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God" (Deut 8:3).  Understandable then the people's question: How can Jesus claim to be the word of God? How can he claim to be the one who brings eternal life, he who is the son of Joseph, a carpenter from Nazareth, and Mary a simple woman from the village? He is one like us and claims to consider himself God? To tell the truth, anyone who stops at Jesus' claims cannot but find them at first sight difficult to understand and accept. No wonder then that, as we will read in the coming Sundays, some of those present abandoned him. The listeners were peasants from Galilee accustomed to having their feet on the ground, worshipping one God and therefore enemies of idolatry. Jesus provokes them and provokes us with a question that touches the heart of Christianity: can Jesus man be God?  Question, the heart of the Christian faith that always questions and awaits a personal answer. Jesus perceives the mumbling of the people as a refusal to believe and reacts forcefully: "do not murmur among yourselves". This command on Jesus' lips recalls the severe rebuke related to unbelief, the original sin of Israel, which murmured and rebelled against God and Moses in the desert during the forty years of the exodus. It is the temptation of every believer. But Jesus continues his discourse with patient pedagogy and reiterates one after the other the fundamental points of his revelation: Yes, I am the word of God, I am the one who gives eternal life, I am the Son of God, and in confirmation he refers to the prophets who had assured: "And all shall be taught of God".

3. Yes, 'I am the bread of life' and he adds: 'this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that whoever eats of it will not perish'. The mistrust, doubts and murmurings of the listeners and even of the disciples also affect us - we should not be surprised - because to overcome the scandal of the incarnation, of Christ's death on the cross, it is indispensable to humbly listen to the voice of the Spirit who invites us to always and totally trust in God: We are saved only by God. All this is the mystery of the 'Eucharistic bread', the real presence of divine life in Jesus Christ, the presence of the Holy Trinity. If faith does not open the heart to humbly listening to the Holy Spirit, we risk reducing it all to a liturgical rite that we simply call 'the Mass'.  St John does not recount the institution of the Eucharist during the Last Supper and replaces it with the prophetic gesture of the washing of the feet, making clear the inseparable link that unites the Eucharist to the New Commandment of love and service. Some say that it is more important to do good to others than to attend Mass. Beware lest we lose sight of the fact that the fullness of evangelical love linked to the Eucharistic mystery must never be reduced to charitable, social and solidarity work. Only the faithful sharing in the Eucharist of the 'bread of life' that is God himself Love who gives himself freely opens the Christian's heart to the total gift of love.  But it can happen that we approach the celebration of the Eucharist thinking we are sharing a religious rite without understanding that instead it is welcoming into our poor existence the One who is the glory of God and the salvation of the world.  When we gather on Sunday it is not to do the most beautiful and important prayer together, but for something else: we participate in a real and living way in the very life of God - the Trinity. We can say that there is the Eucharist, Body of Christ, because the Holy Spirit "transfigures" the bread and wine into the identity of Jesus Christ, the same Spirit that Jesus with his "authority" sends for this transformation. If Jesus did not send the Spirit, the bread and wine would remain as they are; and if the Spirit were not present, no power could replace it, because Jesus' power is signified and activated by the Holy Spirit. When Christ is separated from his Spirit, the plan of God the Trinity Mercy is dissolved. In the Christian tradition, Christ and the Spirit are held closely together for the understanding of the Eucharist. And the heart of the Eucharistic celebration is sealed by the celebrant praying thus: 'Through Christ, with Christ and in Christ to you, God the Father Almighty in the unity of the Holy Spirit all honour and glory for ever and ever'.   The final Amen of the whole assembly is indispensable because it is a solemn and much needed proclamation of assent and consent: it is the signature that allows us to contemplate the glory of God through Jesus. St Jerome said that the Amen resounds like thunder from heaven (from the "Dialogues against the Luciferians", in Latin: "Dialogus contra Luciferianos).

• +Giovanni D’Ercole

P.S. The Apostle Paul invites us in the second reading from the Epistle to the Ephesians to be imitators, that is, friends of God (Eph 5:1), and this imitation is none other than our identification with Christ: as Christ loved us, "walk in charity". Linking this to the words of Jesus in Capernaum, we understand that no one can understand the Eucharist unless they are instructed and drawn by God's love. We read in the gospel: "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him" (Jn 6:44).  God alone knows God and that is why Jesus says that one must be instructed by God's light to enter into the mystery of the bread of life.  The Eucharist is the sign par excellence of God's covenant with humanity, it is the original expression of his love, realised by Jesus in human flesh like ours. Love indicated by the offering and sacrifice of his body and blood, celebrated every time we remember the death and resurrection of the One whom in hope we await to come in glory.