4. The aspiration that humanity nurtures, amid countless injustices and sufferings, is the hope of a new civilization marked by freedom and peace. But for such an undertaking, a new generation of builders is needed. Moved not by fear or violence but by the urgency of genuine love, they must learn to build, brick by brick, the city of God within the city of man.

Allow me, dear young people, to consign this hope of mine to you: you must be those "builders"! You are the men and women of tomorrow. The future is in your hearts and in your hands. God is entrusting to you the task, at once difficult and uplifting, of working with him in the building of the civilization of love.

5. From the Letter of John – the youngest of the apostles, and maybe for that very reason the most loved by the Lord – we have listened to these words: "God is light and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn1:5). But, John observes, no one has ever seen God. It is Jesus, the only Son of the Father, who has revealed him to us (cf. Jn 1:18). And if Jesus has revealed God, he has revealed the light. With Christ in fact "the true light that enlightens every man" (Jn 1:9) has come into the world.

Dear young people, let yourselves be taken over by the light of Christ, and spread that light wherever you are. "The light of the countenance of Jesus – says the Catechism of the Catholic Church – illumines the eyes of our heart and teaches us to see everything in the light of his truth and his compassion for all" (No. 2715).

If your friendship with Christ, your knowledge of his mystery, your giving of yourselves to him, are genuine and deep, you will be "children of the light", and you will become "the light of the world". For this reason I repeat to you the Gospel words: "Let your light so shine before others, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Mt 5:16).

[Pope John Paul II, Vigil at Downsview WYD Toronto 27 July 2002]

This passage from the Gospel of John (cf. 12:44-50) shows us the intimacy there was between Jesus and the Father. Jesus did what the Father told Him to do. And therefore He says: “He who believes in me, believes not in me but in Him who sent me” (v. 44). He then explains His mission: “I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (v. 46). He presents himself as light. Jesus’s mission is to enlighten: light. He himself said: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12). The Prophet Isaiah prophesied this light: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (9:1). The promise of the light that will enlighten the people. And the mission of the Apostles too was to bring light. Paul said to King Agrippa: “I was chosen to enlighten, to bring this light – which is not mine, but another’s – but to bring light” (cf. Acts 26:18). It is Jesus’s mission: to bring light. And the mission of the Apostles was to bring the light of Jesus. To enlighten. Because the world was in darkness.

But the tragedy of Jesus’s light is that it was rejected. From the beginning of the Gospel, John said it clearly: “He came to His own home, and His own people did not welcome Him. They loved darkness more than light' (cf. Jn 1:9-11). Being accustomed to darkness, living in darkness: they did not know how to accept the light, they could not; they were slaves to darkness. And this would be Jesus’s continuous battle: to enlighten, to bring the light that shows things as they are, as they exist; it shows freedom, it shows truth, it shows the path on which to go with the light of Jesus.

Paul had this experience of the passage from darkness to light, when the Lord encountered him on the road to Damascus. He was blinded. Blind. The Lord’s light blinded him. And then, when a few days had passed, with baptism, he regained the light (cf. Acts 9:1-19). He had this experience of passing from darkness, in which he was, to the light. And our passage too, which we received sacramentally in Baptism: for this reason Baptism was called, in the first centuries, the Illumination (cf. Saint Justin, Apology I, 61, 12), because it gave you the light, it “let it enter” you. For this reason, in the ceremony of Baptism we give a lit blessed candle, a lit candle to the mother and father, because the little boy or the little girl is enlightened.

Jesus brings light. But the people, His people rejected it. They were so accustomed to the darkness that the light blinded them, they did not know where to go… (cf. Jn 1:1-11). And this is the tragedy of our sin: sin blinds us and we cannot tolerate the light. Our eyes are sick. And Jesus clearly states it in the Gospel of Matthew: “If your eye is not sound, your whole body will be unsound. If your eye sees only darkness, how great is the darkness within you!” (cf. Mt 6:22-23). Darkness… And conversion is passing from darkness to light.

But what are the things that sicken the eyes, the eyes of faith? Our eyes are ill: what are the things that “drag them down”, that blind them? Vices, the worldly spirit, pride. The vices that “drag you down” and also these three things – vices, pride, the worldly spirit – lead you to associate with others in order to remain secure in the darkness. We often speak of “mafias”: this is it. But there are “spiritual mafias”; there are “domestic mafias”, always, seeking someone else so as to cover yourself and remain in darkness. It is not easy to live in the light. The light shows many ugly things within us that we do not want to see: vices, sins… Let us think about our vices; let us think about our pride; let us think about our worldly spirit: These things blind us; they distance us from Jesus’s light.

But if we start to think about these things, we will not find a wall, no. We will find a way out, because Jesus Himself says that He is the light, and also: “I have come into the world not to condemn the world, but to save the world” (cf. Jn 12:46-47). Jesus Himself, the light, says: “Take courage: let yourself be enlightened; let yourself see what you have within, because I have come to lead you forth, to save you. I do not condemn you. I save you” (cf. v. 47). The Lord saves us from the darkness we have within, from the darkness of daily life, of social life, of political life, of national, international life… There is so much darkness within. And the Lord saves us. But He asks us to see them, first; to have the courage to see our darkness so that the Lord's light may enter and save us.

Let us not fear the Lord: He is very good; He is meek; He is close to us. He has come to save us. Let us not be afraid of the light of Jesus.

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily 6 May 2020]

Today, 25 March, we are in the heart of the Jubilee contemplating the mystery of the Annunciation and Incarnation of the Word. It used to be a predominantly Marian feast, as it still appears in many popular religious traditions. With the liturgical reform, it was highlighted as an important Christological solemnity that immerses us in the heart of the Incarnation of the eternal Word: God becoming man for our salvation. The presence of Mary - The Annunciation - as the one who with her 'yes' made the mystery of our salvation possible, the miracle of the Incarnation, always remains strong; and she invites each one of us to unite our 'yes' to hers, aware that only in humility is the human heart capable of responding to God's call.

IV Sunday in Lent (year C) [30 March 2025] 

*First Reading From the book of Joshua (5, 9a 10- 12)

Moses did not enter the promised land because he died on Mount Nebo, at the Dead Sea, on the side that today corresponds to the Jordanian shore. It was therefore not he who introduced the people of Israel into Palestine, but his servant and successor Joshua. The whole book of Joshua recounts the entry of the people into the promised land, starting with the crossing of the Jordan since the tribes of Israel entered Palestine from the east. The aim of the writer of this book is quite clear: if the author recalls God's work for Israel, it is to exhort the people to faithfulness. Within the few lines of today's text lies a real sermon that is divided into two teachings: firstly, we must never forget that God has delivered the people from Egypt; and secondly, if he has delivered them, it is to give them this land as he promised our fathers. We receive everything from God, but when we forget this, we put ourselves in dead-end situations. This is why the text draws continuous parallels between leaving Egypt, life in the desert and entering Canaan. For example, in chapter 3 of the book of Joshua, the crossing of the Jordan is solemnly recounted as a repetition of the Red Sea miracle. In this Sunday's text, the author insists on the Passover: "they celebrated the Passover, on the fourteenth day of the month, in the evening". Just as the celebration of the Passover had marked the exit from Egypt and the Red Sea miracle, the Passover now follows the entry into the promised land and the Jordan miracle. These are intentional parallels by which the author wants to say that, from the beginning to the end of this incredible adventure, it is the same God who acts to free his people, in view of the promised land. The book of Joshua comes immediately after Deuteronomy. "Joshua" is not his name, but the nickname given to him by Moses: at first, he was simply called "Hoshéa", "Hosea" meaning "He saves" and the new name, "Joshua" ("Yeoshoua") contains the name of God to indicate more explicitly that only God saves. Joshua after all understood that he alone cannot deliver his people. The second part of today's text is surprising because on the surface it speaks only of food, but there is much more: "On the day after the Passover, they ate the produce of that land: unleavened and toasted wheat. And from the next day, as they had eaten, the manna ceased. The Israelites had no more manna: that year they ate the fruits of the land of Canaan." This change of food suggests a weaning: a new page is turned, a new life begins and the desert period with its difficulties, recriminations and even miraculous solutions ends. Now Israel, having arrived in the God-given land, will no longer be nomads, but a sedentary people of farmers feeding on the products of the soil; an adult people responsible for its own subsistence. Having the means to provide for themselves, God does not replace them because he has great respect for their freedom. However, this people will not forget the manna and will retain the lesson: just as the Lord provided in the desert, so Israel must become solicitous towards those who for various reasons are in need. It is clearly stated in the Book of Deuteronomy: God has taught us to feed the poor by sending down bread from heaven for the children of Israel, and now it is up to us to do the same (cf. Deut.34:6). Finally, the crossing of the Jordan and the entry into the promised land, the land of freedom, helps us to better understand Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, which will become the sign of the new entry into the true land of freedom. 

*Responsorial Psalm (33 (34) 2-3, 4-5, 6-7)

In this psalm, as in others, each verse is constructed in two lines in dialogue and ideally it should be sung in two alternating choruses, line by line. It is composed of 22 verses corresponding to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet, in poetry called an acrostic: each letter of the alphabet is placed vertically in front of each verse, beginning with the corresponding letter in the margin. This procedure, quite frequent in psalms, indicates that we are dealing with a psalm of thanksgiving for the covenant. We could say that it is a response to the first reading from the book of Joshua, where although it tells a story, there is actually an invitation to give thanks for all that God has accomplished for Israel.  The language of thanksgiving is omnipresent, as is evident in the first verses: 'I will bless the Lord at all times ... on my lips always his praise ... magnify the Lord with me ... let us exalt his name together'. The speaker is Israel, witness to the work of God: a God who responds, frees, listens, saves: "I sought the Lord: he answered me; from all fear he delivered me... this poor man cries out and the Lord listens to him: he saves him from all his anguish."  This attention of God emerges in the passage from chapter 3 of Exodus, which was the first reading of last Sunday, the third of Lent i.e. the episode of the burning bush: "I have seen the misery of my people... their cry has reached me... I know their sufferings." Israel is the poor liberated by God's mercy, as we read in this psalm, and has discovered its twofold mission: firstly, to teach all the humble about faith, understood as a dialogue between God and man who cries out his distress and God hears him, liberates him and comes to his aid; secondly, to be willing to collaborate with God's work. Just as Moses and Joshua were God's instruments to deliver his people and bring them into the promised land, so Israel will be the attentive ear to the poor and the instrument of God's concern for them: 'let the poor hear and rejoice'. Israel must echo down the centuries this cry, which is an interwoven polyphony of suffering, praise and hope to alleviate all forms of poverty. It is necessary, however, to be poor in heart with the realism of recognising ourselves as small and to invoke God for help in the certainty that he accompanies us in every circumstance to help us face life's obstacles. 

*Second Reading from the Second Epistle of St Paul to the Corinthians (5:17-21)

This text can be understood in two ways and everything revolves around the central phrase: "not imputing (God) to men their faults" (v.19) which can have two meanings. The first: since the beginning of the world, God has kept count of men's sins, but, in his great mercy, he agreed to wipe them out through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and this is what is known as 'substitution', i.e. Jesus took on in our place a debt too great for us. Secondly, God has never counted the sins of men, and Christ came into the world to show us that God has always been love and forgiveness, as we read in Psalm 102 (103): "God turns away our sins from us". The whole path of biblical revelation moves us from the first hypothesis to the second, and in order to understand it better, we need to answer these three questions: Does God keep count of our sins? Can we speak of 'substitution' in the death of Christ? If God does not reckon with us and if we cannot speak of 'substitution', how should we interpret this text of Paul?

First: Does God keep count of our sins? At the beginning of the covenant history, Israel was certainly convinced of this and it is clear why. Man cannot discover God unless God himself reveals himself to him. To Abraham God does not speak of sin, but of covenant, of promise, of blessing, of descent, and never does the word 'merit' appear. "Abraham had faith in the Lord and it was credited to him as righteousness" (Gen 15:6), so faith is the only thing that counts. God does not keep track of our actions, which does not mean that we can do anything, because we are responsible for building the Kingdom. To Moses, the Lord reveals himself as merciful and forgiving, slow to anger and rich in love (cf. Ex 34:6). David, precisely on the occasion of his sin, understands that God's forgiveness precedes even our repentance and Isaiah observes that God surprises us because His thoughts are not our thoughts: He is only forgiveness for sinners (cf. Is 55:6-8). In the Old Testament, the chosen people already knew that God is tenderness and forgiveness and called him Father long before we did. The parable of Jonah, for example, was written precisely to show that God cares even for the Ninevites, Israel's historical enemies.

Second: Can one speak of 'substitution' in the death of Christ? If God does not keep count of sins and therefore we do not have a debt to pay, there is no need for Jesus to replace us. Moreover, the New Testament texts speak of solidarity, never substitution, and Jesus does not act in our place, nor is he our representative. He is the 'firstborn' as Paul says, who opens the way and walks before us. Mixed in with sinners he asked for Baptism from John and on the cross he accepted to give his life for us. He drew near to us so that we could draw near to Him.

Thirdly: How then is this text of Paul's to be interpreted? First of all, God has never kept count of the sins of men, and Christ came into the world to make us understand this. When he says to Pilate: "I have come into the world to bear witness to the truth" (Jn 18:37), he affirms that his mission is to reveal the face of God who is always love and forgiveness. And when Paul writes: "...not imputing (God) to men their faults" he means to make it clear that God erases our false ideas about Him, those that portray Him as an accountant.  Jesus came to show the face of God Love, but was rejected and therefore accepted to die. He had become too inconvenient for the religious authorities of the time, who thought they knew better than he did who God was, and so he died on the cross because of human pride that had turned into implacable hatred. To Philip in the Upper Room he said: "He who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9) and even in the midst of humiliation and hatred he only uttered words of forgiveness. We understand at this point the sentence with which this passage closes: "He who knew no sin, God made him sin for our sake, that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (v. 21). On the face of Christ crucified, we contemplate to what extent the horror of our sin reaches us, but also to what extent God's forgiveness reaches us, and from this contemplation our conversion can be born: "They shall look upon him whom they have pierced", a text from the prophet Zechariah (12:10), which we find in the Fourth Gospel (Jn 19:37). Hence our vocation as ambassadors of God's love: "We beseech you in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God" (v.20).

*From the Gospel according to Luke (15:1-3. 11-32)

The interpretive key to this text is found in the very first words. St Luke writes that "all publicans and sinners came to Jesus to listen to him" while "the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, 'He welcomes sinners and eats with them'. The former are public sinners to be avoided, while the latter are honest people who seek to do what pleases God. In truth, the Pharisees were generally upright, pious people and faithful to the Law of Moses, shocked however by the behaviour of Jesus who does not seem to understand who he is dealing with if he even eats and mingles with sinners. God is the Holy One and for them there was a total incompatibility between God and sinners and therefore Jesus, if he was truly from God, had to avoid associating with them. This parable is intended to help one discover the true face of God who is Father. In fact, the main character in this story is God himself, the father who has two kinds of sons, both with at least one point in common, namely the way they conceive of their relationship with their father in terms of merits and accounts, even though they behave differently: the younger offends him gravely, unlike the elder, and in the end, however, acknowledges his sin: "I am no longer worthy to be called your son"; the elder, on the other hand, boasts of having always obeyed but complains that he has never even received a kid as he deserves. The Father is out of these calculations and does not want to hear about merits because he loves his children and in this relationship there is no room for calculating accounts. To the prodigal son, who had demanded 'my share of the inheritance that is due to me', he had gone far beyond the demand, as he will eventually say to both of them: all that is mine is yours. To the prodigal son who returns he does not even leave time to express any repentance, he does not demand an explanation; on the contrary, he wants to celebrate immediately, because 'this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found'. The lesson is clear: with God it is not a matter of calculations, merits, even if we struggle to eradicate this mentality, and the whole Bible, from the Old Testament onwards, shows the slow and patient pedagogy with which God seeks to make himself known as Father, ready to celebrate every time we return to him.

Two small comments to conclude:

1. In the first reading, taken from the book of Joshua, Israel is nourished by manna during the desert crossing, while here there is no manna for the son who refuses to live with his father and finds himself in an existential desert, because he has cut himself off. 

2. Concerning the connection with the parable of the lost sheep, which is also found in this chapter of Luke, it is observed that the shepherd goes to look for the lost sheep and brings it back by putting it on his shoulders, while the father does not prevent the son from leaving and does not force him to return because he respects his freedom to the full.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

3rd Sunday in Lent (year C)  [23 March 2025]

*First Reading from the book of Exodus (3:1-8a.10.13-15)

This text has a fundamental importance for the faith of Israel and also for us because for the first time mankind discovers that it is loved by God, a God who sees, hears and knows our sufferings. Never could man have come so far if God Himself had not decided to reveal Himself, and it is precisely from His autonomous revelation that Israel's faith, and consequently ours, was born. We must grasp the strength of this biblical text, which unfortunately the liturgical translation renders weakly. When we read: "I have seen the misery of my people", the Hebrew text is much more insistent, so it would be more correct to translate it this way, hearing the voice God: "indeed I have seen, yes, I have seen" the misery of my people in Egypt. A real misery as seen in the story of the Hebrew people who emigrated centuries earlier due to a famine, and while things were going well at first, then as their numbers grew, just as Moses was born the Egyptians began to worry. They kept the Hebrews as cheap labour, but wanted to prevent their population growth by having every male infant killed by the midwives. Moses was saved because he was adopted by Pharaoh's daughter and grew up in his court, but could not forget his origins, constantly torn between his adoptive family and his blood brothers, who were reduced to helplessness and revolt. Until one day he killed an Egyptian who was using violence towards a Jew, but the next day, intervening between two quarrelling Jews, they told him not to interfere, which meant that they did not recognise his responsibility for leading a rebellion against the Pharaoh while Pharaoh had decided to punish him for the murder of the Egyptian. Moses was forced, in order to avoid revenge, to flee to the Sinai desert, where he took as his wife a Midianite, Sipporah, daughter of Jethro, and today's text starts from here. While shepherding his father-in-law's flock, one day he arrived across the desert at the mountain of God, Horeb, where he met God who entrusted him with a great mission. Beware! Moses felt the misery of his brothers and had risked his life for them by killing an Egyptian, but he had to recognise his powerlessness, so he fled, marginalised by his blood brothers who recognised no authority in him. He is therefore a humanly bankrupt man who approaches a strange burning bush and from here his story changes completely. I close with two reflections. The first: Moses encounters the transcendent God and at the same time the near God. Transcendent because one can only approach him with fear and respect, but also the near God, who sees the misery of his people and raises up a deliverer. We grasp God's holiness and man's deep respect for his presence in these expressions: 'the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire from the midst of a bush'. To indicate God's presence, the periphrasis: "the Angel of the Lord" is used, which is a respectful way of speaking of God, as are the words: "Come no closer! Take off your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground"; and finally "Moses then covered his face, because he was afraid to look towards God". God, however, is revealed as the God who is close to man, the one who stoops to his suffering. The second reflection concerns the way God intervenes: he sees man's suffering, acts and sends Moses. God calls a co-worker, but for the deliverance to take place, the one who is called must accept to respond, and the one who suffers must accept to be saved.

*Responsorial Psalm (102 (103), 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8.11)

In the first reading, the account of the burning bush from the book of Exodus chapter 3, God reveals his Name: 'I am' ... that is, 'with you' in the depths of your suffering. Almost echoing this, the responsorial psalm proclaims: 'Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love'. The two formulations of the Mystery of God: 'I am' and 'Merciful and gracious' complement each other. In the episode of the burning bush, the expression 'I am' or 'I am who I am' should not be taken as the definition of a philosophical concept. The repetition of the verb 'I am' is an idiomatic form of the Hebrew language that serves to express intensity, and God begins by recalling the long history of the Covenant with the Fathers: 'I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob' to express his faithfulness to his people through the ages. Then he wanted to manifest his compassion for humiliated Israel, enslaved in Egypt, and only then does he reveal his Name 'I am'. Moses' first discovery at Sinai was precisely the intense presence of God in the heart of human despair: 'I have seen,' said God, 'yes, I have seen the misery of my people in Egypt, and I have heard their cries under the beatings of the overseers. Yes, I know his sufferings. I have come down to deliver them..." Moses retained such a profound memory that he drew from it the incredible energy that transformed him from a lonely man, exiled and rejected by all, into the tireless leader and liberator of his people. However, when Israel remembers this unprecedented adventure, it knows very well that its first liberator is God, while Moses is only its instrument. Moses' 'Here I am' (like that of Abraham, and of so many others later) is the answer that allows God to bring about the liberation of humanity. And, henceforth, when one says "The Lord" - translation of the four letters (YHVH) of God's name - one evokes God's liberating presence. To better understand the mystery of God's presence, we need to go back to the account of the burning bush: the bush burned with fire, but was not consumed (cf. Ex 3:2). God reveals himself in two ways: through this vision as through the word that proclaims his Name. Confronted with the flame that burns a bush without consuming it, Moses is invited to understand that God, comparable to a fire, is in the midst of his people (the bush) as a presence that does not consume or destroy the people; Moses veiled his face and understood that one should not be afraid. Thus came the vocation of Israel, the place chosen by the Lord to manifest his presence and, from then on, the chosen people will testify that God is among men and there is nothing to fear.  The responsorial psalm proclaims this: "Merciful and gracious is the Lord", that is, tenderness and mercy, echoing another revelation of God to Moses (Ex 34:6), and the two merge into a single truth. The psalm continues: 'The Lord does just things, he defends the rights of all the oppressed. He made known to Moses his ways, his works to the children of Israel". God is the same from everlasting to everlasting: he is in our midst, a flame, a fire of tenderness and mercy, and Israel is called to bear witness to this in the world that needs such a message because it suffers if such a fire does not burn there. Hence the preaching of the prophets who always highlight two aspects of Israel's vocation: to proclaim one's faith by revealing the truth of which one is the bearer, and to act in the image of one's Lord, that is, working in justice in defence of the oppressed. All the prophets struggled against idolatry because a people who have experienced the presence of the God who sees their suffering cannot put their trust in idols of wood or stone and at the same time must defend the rights of the oppressed, as Isaiah says: "The fasting that pleases me...is to share your bread with the hungry, to take in the homeless poor, to clothe the naked, not to turn your back on your fellow man" (Is 58:6-7). 

*Second reading from the First Letter of St Paul to the Corinthians (10:1-6.10-12)

In order to warn the community of Corinth, as it is important what he is about to say, Paul starts like this: "I do not want you to be ignorant, brothers", he then recalls what happened during the exit from Egypt and ends with "therefore, whoever thinks he is standing, watch that he does not fall", i.e. do not overestimate yourselves as no one is safe from temptation. In the first chapters of the letter, the Apostle warned the Christians of Corinth of the many risks of corruption and immorality, inviting them to be humble. He proposed to them a rereading of the entire history of the people of Israel during the Exodus: a history where God's gifts were not lacking, but man's fickleness always emerges. God promised Moses to be the faithful God, present to his people on the difficult journey towards freedom, through the Sinai desert, but in return on many occasions the people betrayed their Covenant. The Apostle retraces the stages narrated in the book of Exodus, from the departure from Egypt before the crossing of the Red Sea, when the Lord himself had taken over the leadership of operations by marching at their head by day in a pillar of cloud, to show them the way, and by night with a pillar of fire (cf. Ex 13:21-22). From the first encampment, however, the people seeing the Egyptians behind them were afraid and rebelled against Moses: "Perhaps because there were no graves in Egypt, you led us to die in the desert? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? ... Leave us alone, we want to serve the Egyptians. It is better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!" (cf. Ex 14:10-11). And this will be repeated with every difficulty because the path to freedom is full of obstacles and the temptation to fall back into the old slavery is constant. Paul conveys this message to the Corinthians: Christ has set you free, but you are often tempted to fall back into the old errors and you do not realise that these behaviours make you slaves. The path of Christ seems difficult to you, but trust him: he alone is the true deliverer. Even at the crossing of the Red Sea, in a situation that was humanly desperate, God intervened (cf. Ex 14:19) and the people were able to cross it because the waters opened up to let them pass: "The Lord all night long drove the sea with a strong east wind, making it dry; the waters parted" (Ex 14:21). The trials will continue and, on many occasions, the Israelites will return to regret the security of slavery in Egypt. They will complain and rebel instead of trusting in the knowledge that God will always intervene. The episode that best highlights this crisis is when in the desert the people began to really suffer thirst and began to protest, accusing Moses and, through him, God himself: "Why did you bring us up from Egypt? To make us and our children and our cattle die of thirst?" (Ex 17:3). It was then that Moses struck the Rock and water gushed out of it and gave that place the name Massa e Meriba, which means "Trial and Dispute", because the children of Israel had disputed the Lord (Ex 17:7). The problems of the Corinthians, of course, are not the same, but there are other "Egypts" and other forms of slavery: for these new Christians there are choices to be made in the name of their baptism, there are behaviours that can no longer be maintained. And these choices sometimes become painful. Let us think of the demands of the catechumenate that entailed real renunciations of certain behaviours, certain relationships and sometimes even a trade; renunciations that can only be accepted when one places all one's trust in Jesus Christ. In the mixed and particularly permissive society of Corinth, maintaining Christian behaviour required courage, but Paul emphasises, what seems folly to men is true wisdom in the eyes of God. It is no coincidence that, during Lent, the Church invites us to meditate on this text of Paul's, which reminds us how demanding we must be with ourselves in order not to fall into old slavery, and instead how much renewed trust must be placed in God at all times.

*From the Gospel according to St Luke (13:1-9)

 In this Sunday's gospel, we find the account of two facts of crime, Jesus' commentary with the parable of the fig tree, and their juxtaposition is surprising, though certainly the evangelist intentionally proposes it to us. Therefore, it is precisely the parable that can help us understand the meaning of what Jesus means about the two news events.

The first concerns a massacre of Galilean pilgrims who had come to Jerusalem to offer a sacrifice in the Temple. These events were not unusual at the time since Pilate's cruelty was known and pilgrims were often accused of being opponents of Roman power.  In truth, the majority of the Jewish people hardly tolerated the occupation of the Romans and it was precisely from Galilee, at the time of Jesus' birth, that the revolt of Judas the Galilean had started. The second news event, the collapse of the tower of Siloe with 18 victims, was a tragedy like many others. From Jesus' words we can guess the question that the disciples had on their lips and that we often hear repeated even today: 'What did they do wrong to deserve this divine punishment? This is the great question about suffering, which to this day is an unsolved problem. In the Bible, the book of Job poses the problem in the most dramatic way and the three friends - Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar - try to explain his suffering through the principle of retributive justice, according to which suffering is a punishment for sin and therefore Job must have committed some hidden fault that justifies his afflictions.  However, Job declares himself innocent and rejects these explanations. At the end of the book, God intervenes and rebukes Job's friends for speaking incorrectly about him, instead representing Job's sincerity in his search for answers. The theme of suffering is a complex one, and God, who recognises all human attempts to interpret pain as ineffective because the control of events eludes human intelligence, invites man to maintain his trust in God in every difficulty, even the most dramatic. Faced with the horror of the massacre of the Galileans and the collapse of the tower of Siloe, Jesus is categorical: there is no direct link between suffering and sin so those Galileans were no more sinners than the others, nor were the eighteen people crushed by the tower of Siloe more guilty than the other inhabitants of Jerusalem. But then, starting from these two events, he invites the disciples to true conversion, indeed he insists on the urgency of conversion, echoing the appeals of the prophets such as Amos, Isaiah and many others. This is followed by the parable of the fig tree, which softens the apparent harshness of his words because it shows that God's thoughts are very different from those of men and shows us the face of a patient and merciful God. For us, a barren fig tree that uselessly exploits the soil must be cut down, that is, someone who does evil must be punished at once and even eliminated, but not so thinks our God who, on the contrary, affirms: "As I live - oracle of the Lord God - I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but in his conversion, that he may live" (Ez 33:11).  Jesus does not primarily ask us to change our behaviour, but to urgently change the image of a God who punishes. On the contrary, precisely in the face of evil, the Lord is "merciful and pitiful", as this Sunday's Psalm says: merciful, that is, bent over our miseries, and the conversion that awaits us is to entrust ourselves to his infinite and patient mercy. In short, taking up the conclusions of the book of Job, Jesus invites us not to try to explain suffering with sin and other theories as it is a mystery, but to keep our trust in God in spite of everything. And when he says: "unless you are converted, you will all perish in the same way" he means that humanity is heading for ruin when it loses trust in God. Like Israel in the wilderness, whose adventure Paul recalls in the second reading, we too are challenged to always choose whether to trust or to be suspicious of God. However, we must know that his plan is always in our favour and if it changes our heart (that is conversion), it will also change the face of the world.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is the commentary on next Sunday's texts with the assurance of prayer for the Pope and for the great spiritual and social needs of our society.

2nd Sunday in Lent year C (16 March 2025)

*First Reading from the book of Genesis (15.5-12.17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed and torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. In addition, both parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, that is, life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God that on the surface seems to respect traditional rites yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Similar to similar rituals is that Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and chased them away considering them birds of ill omen (Abraham, despite having discovered the true God, still retained a certain superstition). What is different, however, is that at sunset Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and profound anguish and at that moment he sees a smoking brazier and a blazing torch passing among the pieces of animals. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, but uses a word that is not in common use but was already used to indicate Adam's sleep while God created woman. It is therefore a way of saying two things: firstly, man cannot witness God's work and when man wakes up (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins; it also shows that man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while for man it is enough to trust: Abraham had faith in the Lord and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, descendant and land terms placed in inclusion in the narrative: at the beginning, God had said: look at the sky and count the stars, if you can... so shall your descendants be, "I am the Lord, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees to give you possession of this land" and at the end: "To your descendants I give this land".  Surprising is this promise to a childless old man, and it is not the first time that God has made it to him even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment while continuing to walk sustained only by the promise of a God unknown to him. Let us recall the precedents of his vocation: "Get thee out of thy country, and out of thy father's house, unto the land that I will show thee. I will make you a great nation (Gen 12:1) and the Bible has always emphasised the indomitable faith of Abraham who "departed as the Lord had told him" (Gen 12:4). Here, the text states: "Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord counted him righteous". This is the first appearance of the word faith in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firm: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous, and in the Bible, the righteous is he whose will is according to God's will. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: "If you believe... you will be saved" (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives and asks only one thing of us... to believe, that is, to trust him. 

Notes for further study.

v.7: "I am the Lord who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees"; it is the same verb used for the exit from Egypt with Moses, six hundred years later: God's work is presented from the beginning as a work of deliverance.

- v.12: "mysterious sleep" = tardemah = same word used for Adam, Abraham and Saul (1 Sam 26).

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on closer inspection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind of the praying person who feels empowered to say everything to the Lord. And so prayer embraces man's entire existence: serenity that stems from certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation: of whom shall I be afraid? The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", combined with an ardent plea - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!' Israel has always kept its faith firm in the midst of its vicissitudes and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. Finally, between the first and the last verse, there is the passage from the present to the future: in the first verse, "The Lord is my light and my salvation" which is the language of faith, that is, of unshakeable trust, while in the last verse, "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord ... and hope in the Lord, be strong" expresses hope conjugated together with faith in the future. There are ways to comment on this psalm often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we will stop at just these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  First of all, "Your face, Lord, I seek": seeing the face of God is the desire, the thirst of every believer because we are created in the image of God and we are drawn to him, our Creator. The desire to seek his face becomes more intense during Lent. As the Lord told Moses, we cannot see him and remain alive (cf. Ex 33:18-23. In this text, the greatness and inaccessibility of God is present together with all the tender closeness of God, who is so immense that we cannot see him with our eyes. The radiance of his ineffable, inaccessible Presence - what the texts call his glory - is in fact too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze upon the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: he who believes is no longer afraid of anything, not even death, and no other god can ever arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? Confidence that we find again in the last verse: "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living". But what is the land of the living? Certainly the land given to his people and the possession of which has become for Israel a symbol of God's gifts, but there is also the reminder of the demands of the Covenant: the holy land was given to the chosen people to live in holily. And this is one of the main themes of the book of Deuteronomy (cf. Deut 5:32-33), where the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to human history, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who think that the rite of circumcision remains indispensable even now act as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' has not taken place and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant, but St Paul warns them sternly, inviting them to beware of dogs, bad workers and false circumcision (3:2), adding that the (true) circumcised are we, who worship through the Spirit of God by putting our glory in Jesus Christ without trusting in ourselves. He even uses a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence and salvation is in Jesus Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. False circumcisions, on the other hand, are those who have received circumcision in their flesh, according to the law of Moses, and attach greater importance to this rite than baptism. And when Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision. Moreover, Paul sees another pitfall in the believer's attitude: is salvation earned by one's own practices or do we receive it freely from God? When he says that the belly is their god, he wants to imply that these people are betting on Jewish ritual practices and they are wrong: "they boast of what they ought to be ashamed of and think only of the things of the earth" for which "their final fate will be perdition".  And he goes on to point out which is the right choice: he reminds the Philippians that our citizenship is in heaven while we await Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body, with the active power that makes him even able to subject all things to his dominion. If we await him as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is placed in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the true circumcision and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model since if there was one with merits to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. For he writes that if anyone else believes that he can trust in himself, I can trust even more, I, circumcised on the eighth day, of the seed of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Jew, the son of Jews; by the law, a Pharisee; by zeal, a persecutor of the Church; by the righteousness found in the law, become blameless. Now all these things, which were gains for me, I counted as loss because of Christ (cf. Phil 3:4-7). In summary, to take Paul's example means to make Jesus Christ - and not our practices - the centre of our lives and this means to be 'citizens of heaven'.

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples this question: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". Jesus then announced the necessity of the sacrifice of the Son of Man rejected by the elders, the high priests and the scribes, put to death but resurrected on the third day. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later. Jesus leads Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again and it is in this context that God chooses to reveal the mystery of the Messiah to these three privileged ones. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. The presence of Moses and Elijah is understandable since Moses spent forty days on Sinai in the presence of God and came down with a face so radiant that it amazed everyone. Elijah, on the other hand, walked for forty days and forty nights to the mountain where God revealed Himself in a totally unexpected way: not in the power of wind, fire, or earthquake, but in the gentle whisper of a gentle breeze. The two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of seeing the glory of God are also present here where the glory of Christ is manifested. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the cross and resurrection, which he calls the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. From the cloud a voice says: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!". These three words: My Son, the Chosen One, Listen to him, expressed at the time of Christ the diversity of portraits with which the Messiah was imagined. The title of Son of God was conferred on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "Behold my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him, seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him: "I will raise up to them a prophet like you from among their brethren; I will put my words in his mouth" (Deut 18:18), and some inferred from this that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. "Listen to him," is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, contemplating the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that he did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. God's plan is not for a chosen few: Peter, James and John must rather hurry to join the others and work because on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. Paul says it in his letter to the Philippians: "we are citizens of heaven".

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Here is a short version for those who wish it 

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (15:5-12, 17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed, torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. Furthermore, both contracting parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, i.e. life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God. On the surface, he seems to respect the traditional rites, yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Let us first take a closer look at what is similar: Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and Abraham chased them away considering them birds of ill omen. But there is something unusual: at sunset, Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and deep anguish. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, a word already used to refer to Adam's sleep while God created the woman, and it is used to say two things: first, man cannot witness God's work and when man awakens (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins. Moreover, man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while man only has to trust: Abraham had faith and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, a promise already made to a childless old man even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment, but continues to trust a God unknown to him. For the first time, the word faith appears in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firmly: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous. The text states: 'Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord considered him righteous'. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: 'If you believe... you will be saved' (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives everything and asks only one thing of us: to trust him. 

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on reflection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind in which we find ourselves because prayer embraces the whole of human existence. Serenity is born of certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation ... he is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", together with ardent supplication - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!". In times of joy as well as in times of trial, Israel has always kept its confidence firm and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. This psalm returns often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we pause only on these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  To see the face of God is the desire of every believer because we are created in God's image and are drawn to him, but the radiance of his ineffable Presence, which the Bible calls his glory, is too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze into the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: the believer is no longer afraid of anything or anyone, not even death, and no other god can ever again arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? We find trust again in the last verse: 'I am sure to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living'. And the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to the history of humanity, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the Apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who thought that the rite of circumcision was also indispensable were acting as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' had not taken place, and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant and St Paul urges them to beware of the false circumcisers (3:2), adding that the truly circumcised are we who place all our trust in Jesus Christ. And he goes so far as to use a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence is in Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. When Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision and wants to make it clear that these people are betting on their ritual practices. The right choice is to remember that we are citizens of heaven and await the Lord Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body. If we await Christ as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the circumcised (the true) and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model, since if there was one with merit to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. By setting himself as an example he encourages us to make Christ, and not ritual practices, the centre of our lives and if we are in Christ we are already 'citizens of heaven', even though we still dwell on earth. 

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". And Jesus said: It is necessary that the Son of Man should suffer much, be rejected, put to death, and, on the third day, rise again. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later with Jesus leading Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again, and in this context God chooses to reveal to these three privileged ones the mystery of the Messiah. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who provides the answer and invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. Understandable is the presence of Moses and Elijah, the two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of the revelation of God's glory and are now witnesses of Christ's glory. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the Cross, and he uses it referring to the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. Everything hinges on three words that expressed the different conceptions of the Messiah at the time of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The title Son of God was bestowed on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "This is my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him (Deut 18:18), and some inferred that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. Listen to him! This is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, amazed by the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that Peter did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. Rather, Peter, James and John must hurry to join the others because God's plan is not limited to a chosen few: on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. St Paul in his letter to the Philippians said that "we are citizens of heaven", because through baptism we are already in eternal life even though we are still pilgrimage on earth.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Reflections on the religious sense.

This reflection also stems from a dialogue with a gentleman of about my age.

This well known and respected gentleman in his village met an old acquaintance of his and was rebuked by the latter because he did not attend religious services; according to her, he should have done so for his own good. The gentleman replied that he did not feel this need and that it did not seem to him that his behaviour might offend the generally understood religious sense. 

Discussions like this occur often among human beings, this is nothing new. I report it because it made me reflect on the religious sense in human life. The topic touches on several disciplines and is complex.     

Studies by Fiorenzo Facchini say that various behaviours of prehistoric man are read in a religious sense. Our ancestors gave burials to their dead and painted representations on the walls.      

These caves had something sacred about them. Religious manifestations of antiquity were songs and dances.

In all religions we find a need for reassurance about our lives and also the need to find magical answers to our problems.

Bettelheim argues that on an individual level and especially in childhood, religion can provide that basis of stability and security with which the child can evolve towards autonomy.

The society in which we live forces us to run, to be in step with the times; it wants to give us its values.

Today there is the fashion of the ephemeral, of competitiveness - and so it is psychologically reassuring to believe in a 'mother-environment' that loves us, or to be within a design that gives meaning to our lives.

Unlike Freud who did not have a positive view, or the philosopher Charles Marx who claimed that religion is the opium of the people, Jung in the eleventh volume "Psychology and Religion" says verbatim:

"Since' religion is indisputably one of the first and universal expressions of the human soul [...] it is not only a sociological or historical phenomenon, but an important personal matter" (vol.XI, p.15).

In my long professional practice I have often encountered people who have had to come to terms with this issue.

The therapist's task is not to condition the other, but to clarify the underlying dynamics.

I have met people who described themselves as non-believers but who on an unconscious level had to come to terms with their dreams. Or individuals who belonged to different religions that were so rigid that they inhibited their vital sense.

In all these cases, knowledge of the human soul grew, whether they claimed to be religious or not. We are not discussing each person's philosophical position.

There were differences between the person who called himself religious and one who was not.

I would like to point out that these differences do not constitute value judgements, but only behavioural characteristics.

The religious person believes that there is a reality that is sacred and beyond this world - and that his existence is enhanced according to his belief.

He who called himself a non-believer rejected transcendence, was one who is self-made and believes that he alone constructs his own destiny.

A constant concern was to deny any reference or wisecrack that was made to religious topics.

I have even met someone who was more concerned about what my beliefs were than his personal problems. I always replied that my sphere of action was the psyche in all its manifestations. Beyond any manifestation sacred or not, respect for the person is already a sacred attitude.

"To 'desacralise' oneself completely is not easy either, as it is difficult to deny history altogether - both for those who believe in creation and those who believe in evolution.

Who knows whether evolution includes a creation?

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi Psychologist-psychotherapist 

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! 

First Sunday in Lent (year C) 9 March 2025 

*First Reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (26:4 - 10)

Moses orders an offering gesture, as is the case in all religions, but for Israel it is a real profession of faith: "He shall take the basket from your hands and place it before the altar of the Lord your God, and you shall speak these words". Then follows a whole discourse on God's work for his people, which could be summed up in a simple sentence: everything we have, everything we are, is a gift from God. This is the great novelty of the entire Bible, especially of the book of Deuteronomy. If in religions the rite of offering is a gesture of asking the deities for benefits that they possess, for Israel there is a reversal of the meaning of the rite because this offering is an act of gratitude. To offer gifts is not to grant God something that belongs to us, but to recognise that everything is His gift and we do not present ourselves to Him with hands full of our own riches; rather, we recognise that without Him our hands would remain empty. In this spirit, bringing one's offerings becomes a gesture of remembrance. The book of Deuteronomy insists on this practice perhaps because the people seemed to have partly forgotten God and His benefits. In the desert, Israel had well understood that its survival depended on God and Him alone. However, having arrived in the Promised Land (the land of Canaan, the Israel of today) they ran the risk of forgetting the true God as there were widespread cults of the local Baal-worshipping peoples and the serious risk of contamination by idolatry posed a threat to the true faith. The prophets always sought to maintain fidelity to the Sinai Covenant (cf. Ex 20:2), repeating that there is only one God, the God of Moses, who delivered his people from the hand of the Egyptians, accompanied them throughout their history and, finally, gave them the promised land. It seems that the concern of our text is to preserve the memory of what God has accomplished and, indeed, the book of Deuteronomy could be called the book of memory. The rite of the offering of the firstfruits is therefore above all a gesture of remembrance, accompanied by the enumeration of the works performed by God on behalf of his people. The word 'firstfruits' contains the idea of 'first', the first fruits of the new harvest, the first sheaves of wheat, the first bunches of grapes, the first born of the new litter. All of this constitutes the beginning and the promise: by weighing the first sheaf, the first bunch, one could tell if the harvest would be abundant, and the ritual of offering already existed in the days of Cain and Abel to obtain the blessings of divinity. Moses had transformed its meaning: from then on, everything was lived in function of the Covenant and that is why one understands the discourse that accompanies the offering. One does not ask God for benefits for the future, but acknowledges the benefits one has had since Abraham's call, and the rite becomes a profession of faith that constitutes a summary of Israel's history: "My father was a wandering Aramean...". It all began with Abraham, the Aramean chosen by God to become the father of the people of the Covenant: a "wandering" nomad in the sense that, before his call by God, he had not yet discovered the one God, wandering therefore in a spiritual sense. The following sentence "My father was a wandering Aramean, who went down to Egypt" no longer refers to Abraham, the progenitor, but to his descendant Jacob: he and his sons settled in Egypt. The whole story follows, up to the entry into the promised land. At this point, the gesture of the offering takes on its full meaning: by offering the first sheaf, the first cluster, it is as if one were presenting the entire harvest to God.  The offertory in the Mass has the same meaning: to recognise that everything is God's gift: "Blessed are you, Lord, God of the universe, from your goodness we have received these gifts: from your goodness we prepare and offer gifts to God that are not ours but his.

 * Responsorial Psalm 90 (91) 1-2, 10-11, 12-13, 14-15

The psalm is presented as a dialogue with three voices.  Israel says: "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will spend the night in the shadow of the Almighty. I say to the Lord: 'My refuge my fortress, my God in whom I trust'. The priests at the entrance to the Temple proclaim: "No misfortune shall befall you, no blow shall fall on your tent". Finally, God himself intervenes: "I will deliver him, for to me he has bound himself; I will put him in safety, for he has known my name."  In the first verses, if one pays attention, four different names are given to God: the Most High (Elyôn), the Almighty (El Shaddai), the Lord (YHWH) and finally God (Elohim). The deities of other peoples use three of these names: the Most High, the Almighty and Elohim. Israel uses these common terms to designate its God, but is the only people in the world who can call him by the fourth, the famous Name revealed to Moses in the burning bush: YHWH. As God himself says in the book of Exodus: "I revealed myself to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as God Almighty (El Shaddai), but by my name, YHWH, I did not make myself known to them" (Ex 6:3). These first verses develop the theme of the believer's security with the embrace of the Most High in the shadow of the Almighty.  In the language of the psalms, the embrace of the Most High recalls the Temple of Jerusalem and the shadow is that of the wings of the statues of the cherubim above the ark of the covenant. However, there is also an allusion to God's protective presence throughout the Exodus. As exegetes note, the "wings" recall those of the eagle that encourages the first flights of its young (Deut 32:10-11; cf. Ex 19:4). And the angel Gabriel will say to the Virgin of Nazareth: "The power of the Most High will spread its shadow over you" (Lk 1:35). The terms "my refuge, my fortress, my God in whom I trust" express a profession of faith and indicate a resolution against idolatry that always demands a commitment not to abandon the embrace of the Most High. Jesus is the one who never ceases to take refuge in God, as we see today in the gospel of Jesus' temptations. In short, the fight against idolatry is a theme that runs throughout the Bible and is a central point in the preaching of the prophets. Even in our time, there is food for thought because idolatry takes on different and ever new faces. Two stanzas follow in the psalm, which are a kind of catechesis addressed by the priests to every pilgrim in the Temple of Jerusalem: "no misfortune shall befall you, no blow shall fall on your tent" if you remain under the shadow of the Most High, for he will give orders to his angels to guard you in all your ways. Thou shalt tread upon lions and vipers, thou shalt crush lions and dragons. The message is twofold: certain is the victory - you shall trample down lions and dragons - and guaranteeing it is God who will never cease to protect his people who will give orders to his angels to guard all the pilgrim's steps, indeed they will carry him with their hands, so that his foot will not stumble over stones. At the end, in the last verse, God speaks: 'I will deliver him, for to me he has bound himself; I will make him safe, for he has known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him" Note the final verse "in distress I will be with him, I will deliver him and make him glorious" which shows how Israel understood that God does not remove every trial with a magic blow, but is "with" us in difficulty and trial. In distress, 'I will be with him' is exactly the meaning of the name 'Emmanuel', which means God-with-us. Proposed at the beginning of Lent, this psalm invites us to find refuge in the embrace of the Most High, attending the liturgy in our churches where there is no longer the ark of the Covenant, nor the two statues of the cherubim - those winged beings with the head of a man and the body of a lion, whose wings joined together formed a throne for God -, but something much greater: the Presence of the Holy Trinity

* Second reading from the Epistle of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (10:8-13)

St Paul makes an important point: whether you are Jews or pagans there is no difference because what you have in common is that you are Christians and you all invoke the same Lord, generous to those who seek him. The problem existed in Rome as elsewhere and the question was whether Jews and pagans should be treated equally. Although Paul wanted all Jews to accept Jesus as the Messiah, nevertheless only a minority of the Jewish people adhered to Jesus Christ, while it was the pagans who constituted the largest part of the Christian communities. One understands then that the coexistence of Christians of such different origins, Jewish or pagan, posed quite a few difficulties and endless discussions arose on issues such as the Law, circumcision and dietary rules. The problem was deeper as some Jewish converts to Christianity reluctantly accepted the entry of what they called 'the uncircumcised', Israel being the chosen people from whom the Messiah would be born.  The question was: is not accepting the non-Jews a betrayal of the Covenant and the election of the Jewish people? For Paul to prevent the Gentiles from receiving baptism meant that Jesus only saves the Jews, whereas in the Old Testament the prophet Joel had already said of the Messiah: "I will pour out my Spirit on every man. Your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your elders will dream dreams, your young men will have visions. On the servants and maidservants also will I pour out my Spirit in those days... Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." (Gl 3:1-5). Moreover, Paul's contemporaries found it strange that to be saved it was enough to invoke the name of Jesus while they believed one had to be circumcised and scrupulously observe the Law. The Apostle responds that since Jesus Christ is Lord (God), henceforth anyone who invokes him is saved as Christ himself told Nicodemus: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life," specifying precisely: "God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him." (Jn 3:16-17) and the term "world" clearly means "all mankind". The Apostle does not hesitate to repeat: "If with your mouth you proclaim, "Jesus is Lord!", and with your heart you believe that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes to obtain righteousness, and with the mouth one makes the profession of faith to obtain salvation'.  In the Old Testament, 'to obtain righteousness' and 'to be saved' meant the same thing.  Moreover, the verb 'to believe' does not here have the sense of a personal opinion, and the parallel between 'mouth' and 'heart' on which he insists indicates that faith is a deep and total commitment of the person. Thus, according to Paul, what we read in the book of Deuteronomy is fulfilled: "This word is very near you: it is in your mouth and in your heart." While Deuteronomy speaks of the Law to be observed, now this word is the message of faith in Jesus Christ, and Paul reminds those who have received baptism: salvation is freely given to us by God without any merit of our own; we only have to accept it with faith and freedom: "If with your mouth you proclaim that Jesus is Lord, and if with your heart you believe that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. With the heart one believes to obtain righteousness, with the mouth one makes profession of faith to obtain salvation

* From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (4:1 - 13)

If we read this Gospel page in the light of today's responsorial psalm, we recognise the inner attitude with which Jesus began his public mission: "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will spend the night in the shadow of the Almighty. I say to the Lord: My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust'.  Jesus places himself in the shadow of the Most High, while temptation drives him to leave this refuge, to doubt his security and to seek shelter and security elsewhere: these are precisely the three temptations that have always marked the history of Israel and also our lives. The devil - in Greek 'diabolos', that is, he who divides - tempts him by instilling doubt and distrust. If you truly are the Son of God, you can do whatever you want and are able to provide for your own happiness. Tell this stone that it may become bread and so satiate your hunger immediately after such a long fast (first temptation); adore me and you will surely be able to realise all your plans and projects (second temptation). Finally, "if thou art the Son of God, cast thyself down; for it is written: "To his angels he will give orders concerning thee that they may guard thee"; and "they will carry thee on their hands that thy foot may not stumble over a stone (third temptation). Jesus, however, does not give in to satanic enticements because he is certain that only God satisfies man's true hunger and he has chosen to trust, in other words, to dwell in the shelter of the Most High, as the psalm says. In more detail in the first temptation, when the Tempter provokes him Jesus replies: "It is written, 'Man shall not live by bread alone', an expression known to all the Jewish people because it is contained in chapter 8 of Deuteronomy, as a meditation on Israel's experience during the exodus under the leadership of Moses: "Remember all the way that the Lord your God made you walk these forty years in the wilderness...He made you experience hunger, then He fed you with manna that neither you nor your fathers knew, to make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that comes out of the mouth of the Lord." (Deut 8:2-3). The people know from experience what the blessedness of poverty means: Blessed are those who hunger, for they trust only in God to be filled, and Deuteronomy continues: "Acknowledge therefore in your heart that the Lord your God was educating you as a man educates his son." (Deut 8:5). In this way the Son of God, who now begins to lead his people, relives in his flesh the experience of Israel in the wilderness. In other words, when the Tempter challenges Jesus saying: "If you are the Son of God, prove it!", his answer is clear: My food is to do the will of the One who sent me and to do his works, as he will say to the disciples in the encounter with the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4:32-34). In the second temptation, to the Tempter who promises him all the kingdoms of the earth, Jesus replies: "The Lord your God you shall worship: to him alone you shall render worship", quoting this text among the best known of the Old Testament, which follows the Shema Israel, the Jewish profession of faith (Dt 6:10-13). In the third temptation, the devil provokes Jesus to throw himself down being the Son of God, for it is written that angels will come to guard him by carrying him on their hands, but he replies: "It has been said, 'You shall not test the Lord your God (Deut 6:16). Christ knows that he is always in the shelter of the Most High, no matter what happens. Faced with the provocations of the Tempter, Jesus draws from the word of God the strength to resist those who want to separate him from the Father; he never argues with him and his three answers are exclusively quotations from Scripture. In this he shows himself to be the authentic heir of his people and the phrase from Deuteronomy, taken up by St Paul in the Letter to the Romans (see the second reading), applies to him: "The Word is near you, it is on your lips and in your heart." (Deut 30:14). The three answers refer to the book of Deuteronomy, written precisely to remind the Israelites that God is their Father. Jesus, in his life, retraces the experience of his people in the desert, from Baptism, where he is revealed as the Son, to Gethsemane where the Tempter will return for the final attack. We read at the end of our text: "After he had exhausted all temptation, the devil departed from him until the opportune moment, but Jesus will always remain under the shadow of the Most High and, with this episode, Luke shows that Jesus is the only true model to follow.

+Giovanni D'Ercole