18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)  [2 August 2016]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (55:1–3)

We have reached the end of the second book of Isaiah, which is entirely focused on the end of the Exile and the return to the Promised Land, and is therefore called ‘the book of the consolation of Israel’. Chapter 54 heralds the long-awaited return, and this chapter specifies the spirit in which we are to return. Four major themes are evoked. The first theme is the gratuitous nature of God’s gifts: ‘Come, buy without paying’. Sometimes, it is precisely this gratuitousness that is the hardest to accept. We tend to think of merits and dignity that must be regained in order to stand before God, whilst mercy bends down to repentant sinners. Isaiah declares: ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways’ (55:8–9).    Voltaire used to say: “God made man in his own image, and man has done him a fine job of it.” He was right, because we sometimes imagine a God with the same feelings as our own – one who takes revenge and punishes – whereas in the Bible, God always shows such an abundance that is entirely free and generous that we might say that in God’s supermarket, everything is always free. But if everything is free, can we do as we please? Certainly not, because if we are touched by God’s love, our hearts change and we begin to resemble him. In a society founded more on commerce than on service, Christians must nurture the kingdom of gratuitousness, for if we stray from the path of gratuitousness, we are far from God’s ways. The second theme is the struggle against idolatry, a temptation that constantly resurfaces. Only God holds the keys to our happiness and freedom, and with Him, everything is given. We simply need to trust. The third theme is listening and trust – ‘Give ear and you shall live’  ‘Give ear and come to me; listen and you shall live’ (55:3). We lend an ear to so much commercial advertising; why, then, does this message from Isaiah – spoken in God’s name and marked by gratuitousness – fail to convince us? The way of gratuitousness stands above our ways of calculation and ‘quid pro quo’. Fourth theme: God’s faithfulness to the Covenant, another key theme in the sermons of Second Isaiah: the exiles feared they would be abandoned by God forever, yet His love is entirely gratuitous and unconditional, and He never calls His Covenant into question; indeed, He renews it at every moment.  

Responsorial Psalm (144/145)

Psalm 144/145 is an alphabetic psalm of praise for the Covenant. This Sunday’s first reading speaks of the gratuitousness and abundance of God’s gifts; this psalm says nothing other than this!  It is an alphabetic, acrostic psalm: it has as many verses as there are letters in the Hebrew alphabet, with each verse beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. This style of composition has a specific, consistent purpose: to express to God the believers’ gratitude for the gift of the Covenant. It is therefore no surprise to find in this psalm a reference to all aspects of the Covenant: the extraordinary discovery of a God who is both almighty and close to humankind. The Book of Wisdom made this clear: ‘You, Lord, who possess power, judge with gentleness; you rule us with great forbearance, for when you wish, you can use your power’ (12:16–18). Even before the Book of Wisdom, other Old Testament texts had powerfully proclaimed God’s greatness and goodness. At the outset, verse 8 of the psalm echoes God’s revelation to Moses on Mount Sinai: ‘The Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love and faithfulness’ (Ex 34:6); the burning bush: Exodus 3:1–6 presents a twofold revelation: God reveals himself to Moses in the burning bush whilst he was tending the flock of Jethro, his father-in-law, the priest of Midian (cf. Exodus 3:7). He always reveals himself to be compassionate and merciful = literally ‘a heart open to our miseries’, who takes the side of those in distress. Moses, who had previously veiled his face, realises that he need not be afraid. ‘My people’ is a reference to the Covenant with the people dating back to Abraham. Just as God had seen the misery of Abraham, an elderly man without children, so He has seen the misery of His people. In conclusion, this psalm, like the account of the Exodus, is important for the faith of Israel and therefore for our own: it reveals the dual nature of God as both the Wholly Other and the Wholly Near. He is the Wholly Other, to whom one approaches only with awe and reverence, and at the same time the Wholly Near, who sees the misery of his people and raises up a liberator. In the verses chosen from Psalm 144/145 for this Sunday, the emphasis is placed on this tenderness of God, a conviction that forever nourishes the faith of the Jewish people and our own, just as it filled the heart of Jesus of Nazareth.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (8:35, 37–39)

 Nothing can ever separate us from the love of God: this statement brings to a close Chapter 8, which we have been reading for several weeks, in which Paul marvels at God’s love. In Chapter 5 he had said: ‘The love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit’ (Rom 5:5). Here he gives free rein to the exultation that fills the hearts of believers when they realise God’s work on their behalf: ‘God, who did not spare his own Son, but handed him over for us all’ (Rom 8:32). From now on, no one can break the covenant so closely bound between God and us. As the first Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation states, ‘with your arms outstretched on the cross, you have drawn between heaven and earth the indelible sign of the covenant’. From now on, every attempt at separation is doomed to failure. Paul takes up one of the major themes of Scripture: the very stake of the lives of the children of Adam is to remain attached to God, without allowing themselves to be separated from him by the Tempter. In the wilderness, Jesus faced the onslaught of the Tempter, who tempted him with power, ease and honours. Peter himself tempted Jesus to flee from the inevitable persecution. But nothing—neither hunger nor the mirages of success—could separate the Son from the Father. In turn, Paul and the other apostles draw from the Spirit of Christ the strength to remain grafted onto him. Paul offers us here a great profession of faith: ‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life… nor anything else will ever be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord’ (Rom 8:38–39). This is not pride, but the certainty of faith: Paul does not for a moment consider that the credit for this faithfulness lies with him. When he states, ‘In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us’, the key word is ‘through’ him. His declaration resembles that of the prophet Isaiah concerning the Servant of God: ‘The Lord God helps me; therefore I shall not be disgraced’ (Isaiah 50:7). 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (14:13–21)

The episode of the multiplication of the loaves follows immediately after the announcement of John the Baptist’s execution. Matthew recounts John’s death and concludes: ‘His disciples went and took his body, buried it, and went to tell Jesus’ (14:12).  Jesus’s first reaction, which appears to be prudence, is to withdraw: “On hearing this, Jesus got into a boat and withdrew to a deserted place by himself” (14:13). But he is immediately overtaken by the crowd’s pleas and “he had compassion on them” – literally, “he was moved to the depths of his being”, as Matthew puts it. Humanly speaking, Jesus commits an act of reckless folly. It was politically imprudent because the wise course of action at that moment would have been to keep a low profile, since his popularity would attract the hatred of the Pharisee leaders; it was folly because it was senseless to believe that five loaves and two fish would be enough to feed such a crowd. The disciples, being realists, pointed this out to him, but Jesus replied, unperturbed: ‘You yourselves give them something to eat’ (14:16). This episode brings to mind the prophet Elisha, in the Northern Kingdom, 800 years earlier, whose story was known to all. In the midst of a famine, a faithful follower had brought an offering of the first fruits of the harvest: twenty barley loaves that would normally have been Elisha’s due, but he, given the circumstances, decided to share them with everyone. Twenty loaves were too many for a single prophet, but they were a pittance for the hungry people around him: the text says there were a hundred people. Elisha had told his servant, ‘Give it to the people to eat’, but the servant could see that the numbers didn’t add up: ‘How can I set this before a hundred people?’.  And the prophet insisted: ‘Give it to the people to eat. For thus says the Lord: “They shall eat and there will be some left over.”’ And the servant distributed it: ‘They ate and there was some left over, according to the word of the Lord’ (2 Kings 4:42–44). In this miracle, too, we note the disparity between the number of diners, the few loaves and fish available, and the amount of leftovers collected. Matthew is keen to point out: ‘They all ate and were satisfied; and they carried away twelve baskets full of the fragments’ (14:20). What do Jesus and Elisha have in common? What is their secret? First of all, both believe that sharing is possible, whatever the number of diners, because both place their trust in God. They also share the mention of the leftovers and the precise statement that ‘everyone ate their fill’. This miracle brings to mind the gift of manna in the Book of Exodus: ‘I will satisfy you with bread, and you shall know that I am the Lord your God’ (Ex 16:12). Jesus, as the evangelist writes, had gone off to a deserted place on the outskirts in search of some peace and quiet, but he agrees to let himself be found, to draw near to the people, and this leads him to commit the ‘foolish recklessness’ I mentioned at the beginning. Disciples of all ages are in turn invited to nurture this reckless folly: in other words, it is enough to have faith to remember that sharing works miracles. And we must learn to rejoice in our own poverty, for it is the privileged place where God acts. When we recognise our powerlessness, we call upon God for help, and this is always the first thing to do. Whilst the first reading, taken from Isaiah, proclaims the abundance and gratuitousness of God’s gifts, Jesus’ multiplication of the loaves is a magnificent illustration of this.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [26 July 2026]

First Reading from the First Book of Kings (3:5, 7–12)

This passage from the First Book of Kings recounts the first great celebration of the reign of Solomon, David’s successor on the throne of Jerusalem. After his coronation, Solomon went to the sanctuary at Gibeon to offer a great sacrifice and there uttered a prayer that would become a model for all Israel.

However, the historical context shows that Solomon was not a perfect man. His accession to the throne was marked by dynastic struggles, political intrigues and violence. Although he was one of David’s youngest sons, he managed to secure power thanks to the rivalries among his elder brothers and the decisive intervention of his mother, Bathsheba. After his coronation, he swiftly eliminated his opponents. Therefore, his renowned wisdom was not an innate quality, but a gift received from God. True wisdom thus emerges as the most precious of all goods. Once in power, Solomon realised the difficulty of governing. This realisation represents the first sign of his wisdom. He recognised that the most precious good is not wealth or power, but wisdom, and that it comes only from God. In his prayer, he presents himself with humility: ‘I am a young and inexperienced man; grant your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between good and evil.’ His request recalls the hidden treasure and the precious pearl of which Jesus will speak in the Gospel (Mt 13:44–46): wisdom is worth more than any other good. Here is a lesson for all those who govern. The second lesson concerns not only kings, but anyone who exercises authority. Solomon does not ask for personal advantages, a long life, riches or victory over his enemies. He asks only for what is necessary to serve the people entrusted to him. In this, he shows that he has understood the ideal of the monarchy of Israel: the ruler must not seek his own interests, but the good and safety of the people. The prophets, beginning with Nathan, constantly reminded the kings of Israel of this mission. God’s response is generous: He appreciates the selflessness of the request and responds by granting Solomon a wise and discerning heart, superior to that of all other kings; by giving him the ability to discern and govern justly; and, furthermore, by granting him what he had not asked for: wealth, glory and prestige. This reveals God’s generosity: those who seek His will above all else also receive other gifts in addition. The theme echoes Jesus’ teaching: ‘Seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be given to you as well’ (Mt 6:33).

Responsorial Psalm (118/119)

In the First Reading, Solomon, at the beginning of his reign, had grasped the essential truth: true wisdom is the most precious treasure and can come only from God. 

He continues in the psalm: ‘The law from your mouth is more precious to me than thousands of pieces of gold and silver.’ And the psalmist adds: ‘How wonderful are your commandments; that is why I keep them!’ For the believer, faithfulness to the commandments is a delight, not a burden. This psalm is a litany of love for the Law; today’s verses are just a short stanza from a very long psalm: 176 verses = 22 stanzas of 8 verses each.  Why 22 stanzas? Because there are 22 letters in the Hebrew alphabet. Each stanza is an ‘acrostic’: all 8 verses begin with the same letter, and the stanzas follow the alphabetical order from Alef to Tav.  This is not literary virtuosity. It is a true profession of faith: a poem in honour of the Law, a meditation on the gift of God that is the commandments. Rather than a ‘psalm’, it is a litany in honour of the Law. It may sound strange to us, but that is how it is. In the Bible, to love the Law is to love the Father’s gift; this is why the biblical believer truly loves the Law. The commandments are not endured as God’s dominion over us, but as advice—the only valid advice for living happily. When the biblical person says this, they mean it with all their heart. And the Law is not endured as dominion; it is received as a gift that God gives to his people to warn them against all false paths. It is said that God ‘gives’ his Law, and it is indeed regarded as a ‘gift’. God did not merely free Israel from slavery in Egypt. By giving his Law, God has, in a sense, provided the ‘user’s manual’ for freedom. The Torah is an expression of God’s love for his people. If God is Love, his Law leads to love.  We did not have to wait for the New Testament to discover that God is Love and that the Law has but one purpose: to lead us along the path of love. The entire Bible is the story of the chosen people’s learning, in the school of brotherly love, from Deuteronomy (Dt 6:4) to Leviticus (Lv 19:18).  The famous Rabbi Hillel, who lived from 70 BC to 10 AD, said: ‘Do not do to your neighbour what you would hate for yourself: this is the whole of the Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study.’ He also said: ‘Do not judge your neighbour until you have been in his place.’ Jesus takes the same line: the two commandments of love for God and for one’s neighbour sum up the whole Law. And the Golden Rule echoes this as follows: ‘Do to others whatever you would have them do to you: for this is the Law and the Prophets’ (Mt 7:12). Finally, this psalm resembles a litany: after the first three verses, which affirm the happiness of those faithful to the Law, the remaining 173 verses address God directly, at times in a contemplative tone, at others in supplication: ‘Open my eyes, that I may see the wonders of your Law’ (v. 18), and the litany continues, almost always repeating the same phrases. In Hebrew, eight identical words recur throughout all the stanzas to describe the Law: Law, Word, Precepts, Statutes, Commandments, Judgements, Promises, Ways. Only lovers repeat themselves like this without ever tiring. Nor is the number 8 coincidental: in the Bible, it is the number of the new creation. God created the first Creation in seven days; therefore, the eighth day will be that of the renewed Creation, of the ‘new heavens and new earth’. This will finally come to pass when all humanity lives according to God’s Law—that is, in love—because they are one and the same. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (8:28–30)

For weeks now we have been reading chapter eight of the Letter to the Romans: Paul contemplates the whole of human history as a long journey towards a magnificent future. One day we shall be like Jesus Christ, in his image, and we shall be one with him.  This is God’s plan: ‘God calls those he loves according to his plan’ (Rom 8:28), with the best commentary: ‘God chose you from the very beginning for salvation, through the Holy Spirit who sanctifies and through faith in the truth. For this is what he has called you to through our Gospel, so that you may share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ’ (2 Thessalonians 2:13–14). This plan, which culminates in union with Christ, is the work of the Spirit, made possible by our free participation. Paul puts it even more simply: ‘God calls you to his Kingdom and to his glory’ (1 Thessalonians 2:12). We are on a journey towards the transformation of our whole being, a ‘shaping’ that will mould us in the image of Christ.  Earlier, Paul had compared this transformation to a birth: ‘The whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth’ (Rom 8:22). Here we see the image of entering into a great family: God has ‘predestined us to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers’ (Rom 8:29).  Shortly before, he had called us “children of God” and had continued: “If we are children, then we are also heirs: heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ” (Rom 8:17). To God’s invitation to take part in this great plan, we respond with faith and trust. It is often said: “Man proposes, God disposes”, but here Paul says the opposite: ‘God proposes, man disposes’. God does not impose his plan on us; he proposes it to us. From the very beginnings of Revelation, we hear God calling humankind and proposing his Covenant to us, as if God were tirelessly repeating: ‘Love me, trust me, for I love you’. And this plan of God depends on our freedom.  In today’s passage, the freedom to accept or refuse is expressed as follows: ‘Moreover, we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose’ (Rom 8:2).  The verb ‘to love’ indicates man’s free response to God’s proposal. It is not a feeling, it is an impulse, it is the adherence of ‘faith’ . Yet we remain free not to love God. In Paul’s vocabulary, we are all ‘known, called, justified, and brought into his glory’, provided we accept him. And he describes the journey of those who wish to enter into this plan of salvation.  First, God sent his Son (Col 1:18). Thus, those who respond to God’s love resemble that Son who fulfilled the Father’s will for salvation: predestined, called, justified, glorified—that is, brought into perfect harmony with God, made partakers of his divine nature, already welcomed into his glory. It is no surprise that Paul concludes immediately afterwards: ‘What more can be said?’ Rom 8:31.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (13:44–52)

In this passage from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus presents four brief parables to explain the meaning of the Kingdom of Heaven: the hidden treasure, the pearl of great price, the net cast into the sea, and the householder who brings out of his treasure things both new and old. The treasure and the pearl: the absolute value of the Kingdom. The first two parables convey the same message: a man discovers a treasure hidden in a field; a merchant finds a pearl of exceptional value. In both cases, the protagonists sell everything they own to acquire that unique treasure. This act of renunciation is not experienced as a loss, but as a joy, because the value of the treasure infinitely surpasses that of everything else. Jesus teaches that the Kingdom of God is the greatest good that exists. Those who discover it realise that it is worth more than any earthly wealth, security or success. The net and the final judgement. The third parable describes a bountiful catch. Once the net has been hauled ashore, the fishermen separate the good fish from the bad. Jesus applies this image to the Last Judgement: at the end of time, there will be a definitive distinction between what belongs to the Kingdom and what opposes it. As in the parable of the wheat and the tares, however, it is not simply a matter of dividing people into two rigid categories. Good and evil coexist within every person’s heart. The parable highlights the gravity of human choices: one cannot serve both God and other ‘masters’ at the same time. This is why Jesus continually calls for conversion: ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.’ The same teaching emerges in his encounter with the rich young man: called to leave everything to follow Christ and gain a treasure in heaven, he is unable to give up his securities and goes away sad. These parables show that following Christ requires concrete decisions. There are no half-measures: every choice must be assessed in the light of the Kingdom of God. To welcome the Kingdom means being willing to let go of whatever prevents one from fully adhering to God’s will, just as one who sells everything to acquire the treasure or the pearl—a treasure both ancient and new. After asking his disciples whether they had understood his teaching, Jesus adds a fourth parable: ‘Every scribe who has become a disciple of the Kingdom of Heaven is like a householder who brings out of his treasure things both new and old.’ The scribes had a profound knowledge of the Old Testament Scriptures. However, in order to welcome the Kingdom proclaimed by Jesus, they had to open themselves to the newness of his revelation without losing the heritage they had received. The true disciple cherishes both: the treasure of the Old Covenant and the newness brought by Jesus Christ. This is why Jesus affirms: ‘I have not come to abolish the Law and the Prophets, but to bring them to fulfilment.’ The Old and New Testaments are not opposed to one another: the former prepares and announces, the latter realises and brings to fulfilment. Knowing both constitutes the true treasure of the Christian faith. The life of Paul of Tarsus represents a living synthesis of these parables. Having enjoyed prestige as a Jew and a Pharisee, he regards all that as a loss compared with the knowledge of Christ. In his letter to the Philippians, he states that every human privilege pales in comparison with the gift of Christ, for which he was willing to lose everything. Ultimately, the four parables converge on a single teaching: the Kingdom of God is the supreme treasure; it is worth giving up everything to obtain it; our choices have decisive consequences; the disciple must embrace both the richness of the Old Covenant and the newness of Christ; true wisdom lies in recognising that nothing is of greater value than communion with God. The ‘treasure hunt’ of which Jesus speaks is not the pursuit of material goods, but the discovery of the Kingdom, a treasure so great that it renders everything else secondary.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 13:47-53)

«Treasure» is the Gospel, the Word of God: a real bargain (v.44). «Pearl» Man is Jesus (vv.45-46).

«Kingdom» is the living assembly - people without merits, with an unexpected outcome; fruit of commitment to the search for the best.

The parable of the Net emphasizes the Result of the Kingdom of God, that is, the educational-operative Gift of the community, “area” in which God ‘reigns’.

The Church dreamed of by Christ is like a Net that pulls us up to the light, to the breath, to existence in fullness.

Conviviality of differences that makes each and everyone reborn, but without holding back the rotten and putrefied [nasty, corrupt, spoiled, dead: v.48], ie the one that has no life, nor does it longer offer it.

This is not a trivial moralistic or forensic judgment, between good and bad!

It is the distinction between what remains full and «beautiful» (in the Eastern sense) and what - putrid, rotten - corrupts and degrades, leaving irreparable filth, ordure, scum.

In short: it is in fraternal realities that God has a foot on earth.

In Communion, the Lord becomes Nest and real Presence. Ally who even in difficult moments lets us contact regenerative energies.

Friendship and eminent Self, Landing Place and vocational Instinct that although hidden fills the path, transforming it into Relationship; even in fleeting, brief moments.

Here he is Living in us, while He brings forth Joy of being, because He fills the mentality of everyone, and allows dialogue and the exchange of  gifts that make joy come alive and shine.

In this way, we are precisely the divine intervention in the ordinary existence of people, when we correspond and cooperate with His creative-promoting action of being, abundant and total.

No exclusion or condemnation: only joy, in the sense of vital wave fullness.

On every son the Father returns with care. His work does not discard a priori the unsuccessful "piece", but only what is not needed for complete life.

Now the world is intermingled, and we should not be estranged from our time, yet this does not detract from the fact that it is good to be mindful of what is eternally human.

We welcome the things of our world, but we try to go beyond the contingent - for intensity, for love: all the beauty there is.

Believers are responsible for the transmission of the Faith (v.52). In doing so, they make clear the wisdom of the Kingdom, the difference between custom and personal Calling.

The Lord's intimates invite all to be patient, so that each one may have time for growth, and choices may be ‘useful’. And beautiful ones (v.48).

Everything we have already assimilated through family upbringing thus acquires an amiable, profound, intimate, engaging, creative dimension.

And at the same time a broader purpose, but enlightened from within.

To internalize and live the message:

Has the experience of community entered you and enriched the idea of God?

[Thursday 17th wk. in O.T.  July 30, 2026]

The Lord has also given us, for our consolation, these parables of the net with good and bad fish, of the field where wheat grows but also darnel. He lets us know that he has come precisely to help us in our weakness, that he has not come, as he says, to call the righteous, those who claim to be already completely righteous, those who do not need grace, those who pray praising themselves, but that he has come to call those who know they are lacking, to provoke those who know they need the Lord's forgiveness, his grace, every day to move forward.

This seems very important to me: to recognise that we need permanent conversion, we have never simply arrived. St Augustine, at the moment of conversion, thought he had arrived on the heights now of life with God, of the beauty of the sun that is his Word. Then he had to understand that even the path after conversion remains a path of conversion, that it remains a path where there is no lack of great prospects, joys, the lights of the Lord, but where there is also no lack of dark valleys, where we must go forward with confidence leaning on the goodness of the Lord.

[Pope Benedict, on his visit to the Roman Major Seminary 17 February 2007]

Allow me, Reverend Bishop of the ancient, venerable Church of Cologne, Reverend Brother Cardinals and Bishops, allow me all, beloved brothers and sisters, that I try to clarify in this Eucharistic celebration the importance of our extraordinary meeting today with the help of this parable, with the help of the word of Christ, who repeatedly explained the kingdom of God by means of parables. Using them, he announced the presence of this kingdom to the world.

We too must encounter this dimension. This is, in a way, the essential premise of today's visit of the successor of the Apostle Peter in the episcopal see of Rome to your Church in Germany, to you here in Cologne, who represent the Church of God as it was formed over many centuries around the Roman 'Agrippine Colony'. The eminent symbol of this Church has hitherto been your splendid cathedral, whose spiritual importance has been renewed in you thanks to this year's Jubilee: it powerfully speaks to you of God's reign among us.

We, who now form the Church of Christ on earth, on this part of German territory must meet in the dimension of the unity of the kingdom of God: Christ came to proclaim this kingdom and to spread it on this earth, in every place on earth, in men and among men.

This kingdom of God is in our midst (cf. Lk 17:21), just as it was in all the generations of your fathers and ancestors. Like them, we still pray in the "Our Father" every day: "Thy kingdom come". These words testify that the kingdom of God is still before us, that we are going towards it and advancing towards it along the confused, and indeed sometimes even false, paths of our earthly existence. We testify with these words, that the kingdom of God is continually being realised and drawing nearer, even though we often lose sight of it and no longer perceive its outline determined by the Gospel. It often seems that the sole and exclusive dimension of our existence is 'this world': the 'kingdom of this world' with its visible profile, its fascinating progress in science and technology, culture and economics... fascinating and often also worrying! But if we, however, every day, or at least from time to time, kneel down to pray, we say amidst the circumstances of life always the same words: 'Thy kingdom come'.

Dear brothers and sisters! These hours, in which we meet here, the time, which thanks to your invitation and hospitality I am able to spend among you, is the time of the kingdom of God: of the kingdom "that is already here", and of that which is still "coming". That is why we must interpret all the essentials, which refer to this visit, with the help of the parable, which we hear in today's Gospel: "The kingdom of heaven is like...".

2. What is it like?

According to Jesus' words as handed down to us by the four evangelists, this kingdom is explained with various parables and comparisons. Today's comparison is one of many. It seems to us very closely related to that work, which Christ's apostles, including Peter, did, as did many of his listeners on the shore of the Lake of Genezaret. Christ says: the kingdom of heaven is like "a net cast into the sea, gathering every kind of fish" (Matthew 13:47). These simple words completely change the physiognomy of the world: the physiognomy of our human world as we make it through experience and science. Experience and science cannot cross those boundaries of the "world" and human existence in it, which are necessarily joined with the "sea of time": the boundaries of a world, in which man is born and dies, in correspondence with the words of Genesis: "You are dust and to dust you shall return" (Gen 3:19). Christ's comparison, on the contrary, speaks of the transposition of man into another "world", into another dimension of his existence. The kingdom of heaven is precisely this new dimension, which opens up above the "sea of time" and is at the same time the "net", which works in this sea for the destiny of man and of all men in God.

Today's parable invites us to recognise the kingdom of heaven as the definitive fulfilment of that righteousness, longed for by man with irrepressible longing, which the Lord placed in his heart, that righteousness which Jesus himself realised and proclaimed, that righteousness, finally, which Christ sealed with his own blood on the cross.

In the kingdom of heaven, in the kingdom 'of righteousness, love and peace' (prefatio in festo Christi Regis) man too will be found perfect. For man is the being that springs from the depths of God and hides within himself such a depth that only God can fill it. He, man, is in all his being a copy of God and is similar to him.

3. Jesus founded his Church on twelve apostles, several of whom were fishermen. Thus the image of the net was immediate. Jesus wanted to make them fishers of men. The Church too is a net, united by the Holy Spirit, connected by the apostolic mission, efficient for unity in faith, life and love.

I think at this moment of the widely spread net of the universal Church.

At the same time every single Church in your land is before my eyes, especially the large Church in Cologne and the neighbouring dioceses. And finally before my eyes is the smallest of these churches, the "ecclesiola", the domestic church, which the most recent Synod of Bishops in Rome recalled with such great attention in the theme above "the tasks of the Christian family".

The family: domestic church, the unmistakable and irreplaceable community of persons, of which St Paul speaks in today's second reading. In this he naturally has before his eyes the Christian family of his time, but what he says we must equally apply to the problems of families in our time: what he says to husbands, what he says to wives, children and parents. And finally, what he says to all of us: 'Put on, then, feelings of mercy, goodness, humility, meekness, patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another... Above all, then, let there be charity, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ reign in your hearts, for to it you have been called in one body. And be thankful!" (Col 3:12-15).

What a great lesson in marriage and family spirituality!

4. However, we cannot close our eyes to the other side either; the synod fathers in Rome also dealt with it very seriously: I mean the difficulties, to which the high ideal of Christian understanding of the family and family life is exposed today. Modern industrial society has fundamentally changed the conditions of life for marriage and the family.

Marriage and family used to be not only communities of life, but also communities of production and economy. They were rejected by many public functions. The public climate is not always favourable towards marriage and family. And yet, in our mass civilisation, they prove to be a place of refuge in the search for protection and happiness. Marriage and family are more important than ever: living cells for the renewal of society, sources of strength, whereby life is made more human. I can grasp the image: net, which gives support and unity and lifts from the currents of the deep.

Let us not allow this net to be broken. State and society start their own decay, if they do not support marriage and the family more effectively and put them on a par with other non-marital communities of life. All men of good will, particularly we Christians, are called to rediscover the dignity and value of marriage and the family and to live them out before men in a convincing manner. The Church, with the light of faith, offers its advice and spiritual service.

5. Marriage and family are very deeply connected with man's personal dignity. They do not derive from instinct and passion alone, nor from feeling alone; they derive first and foremost from a decision of the free will, from a personal love, whereby the spouses become not only one flesh, but also one heart and one soul. Physical and sexual communion is something great and beautiful. But it is only worthy of man if it is integrated into a personal union, recognised by the civil and ecclesiastical community. Full sexual communion between man and woman therefore has its legitimate place only within the exclusive and definitive personal bond of fidelity in marriage. The indissolubility of conjugal fidelity, which is no longer comprehensible to many today, is equally an expression of man's unconditional dignity. One cannot live only by trial, one cannot die only by trial. One cannot love only by trial, accept a man only by trial and time.

6. Thus marriage is oriented to duration, to the future. It looks beyond its boundaries. Marriage is the only suitable place for the generation and upbringing of children. Thus, married love is also oriented by its essence to fecundity. In this task of passing on life, spouses are collaborators with the love of God the Creator. I know that even here in today's society, the difficulties are great. They burden women in particular. Restricted housing, economic and health problems, often even a declared attitude not in favour of prolific families are obstacles to greater fertility. I appeal to all those responsible, to all the forces in society: do everything to help. I appeal first of all to your conscience and your personal responsibility, dear brothers and sisters. In your conscience you must, in the presence of God, make the decision on the number of your children.

As spouses, you are called to responsible fatherhood. This means family planning that respects ethical norms and criteria, as was also emphasised by the most recent Synod of Bishops. It is with great care that I would like to remind you today of just this one thing: the killing of unborn life is not a legitimate means of family planning. I repeat what I said on 31 May of this year to the workers in the Paris suburb of Saint-Denis: 'The first human right is the right to life. We must defend this right and this value. Otherwise the whole logic of faith in man, the whole programme of truly human progress would be shaken and everything would fall to the ground'. In reality this is what it is all about: serving life.

7. Dear brothers and sisters! On the indispensable platform and assumption of what has been said, we wish to turn to the deeper mystery of marriage and the family. Marriage from the perspective of our faith is a Sacrament of Jesus Christ. Marital love and fidelity are understood and transmitted by the love and fidelity of God in Jesus Christ. The power of his cross and resurrection carries and sanctifies Christian spouses.

As the recent Synod of Bishops noted in its message to Christian families in the world today, the Christian family is called in a special way to collaborate in God's salvific plan, as it helps its members "to become protagonists in the history of salvation and at the same time living signs of God's plan for the world" (Synodi Episcoporum Nuntius ad Christianas Familias, 8).

As a 'Church in a small way', sacramentally founded, i.e. a domestic Church, marriage and family must be a school of faith and a place of common prayer. I attach great significance precisely to prayer in the family. It gives strength to overcome many problems and difficulties. In marriage and the family, fundamental human and Christian attitudes must grow and mature, without which the Church and society cannot exist. Herein lies the first place for the Christian apostolate of the laity and the priesthood common to all the baptised. Such marriages and families imbued with the Christian spirit are also the true seminaries, that is, the nurseries for spiritual vocations for the priestly and religious state.

Dear spouses and parents, dear families! What could I wish you on the occasion of today's Eucharistic meeting with more cordiality than this: may you all and every single family be such a 'domestic church', a Church in a small way! May the parable of the kingdom of God be realised in you! May you experience the presence of the kingdom of God, in that you yourselves are the living "net", which unites and brings and gives shelter - for yourselves and for many around you.

This is my wish of blessing, which I express to you as your host and pilgrim and as a servant of your salvation.

8. And now let me also turn at the end of this fundamental reflection on the kingdom of God and the Christian family to St Albert the Great, whose seventh centenary celebration has brought me to your city. For here is the tomb of this celebrated son of your land, who was born in Lauingen and in his long life was at once a great scientist, a spiritual son of St Dominic and the teacher of St Thomas Aquinas. He was one of the greatest men of intelligence in the 13th century. He like no other joined the 'net' that unites faith and reason, the wisdom of God and the science of the world. At least in spirit I also visit his birthplace, Lauingen, while today, in Cologne, at his tomb, I pause to meditate with you on the words with which today's liturgy celebrates him: "If this is the will of the great Lord, / he shall be filled with the spirit of understanding, / like rain he shall pour forth words of wisdom, / in prayer he shall render praise to the Lord. / He will direct his counsel and his knowledge, he will meditate on the mysteries of God. / He will make the doctrine of his teaching shine, / he will boast of the law of the covenant of the Lord. / Many will praise his understanding, / he will never be forgotten, / his memory will not disappear, / his name will live from generation to generation. / The peoples will speak of his wisdom, / the assembly will proclaim his praise" (Sir 39:6-10).

Nothing needs to be added to these words of the wise Jesus Sirach. Nor should any be left out. For they perfectly describe the figure of that man, whose homeland your city rightly honours, and who is of joy to the whole Church. Albertus Magnus, universal doctor - Albertus Magnus, of very broad doctrine: a true 'disciple of the kingdom of God'! If we have reflected together today on the vocation of the Christian family to build the kingdom of God on earth, the words of Christ's parable must also give us the deeper meaning of this saint, whom we solemnly remember today. For Christ says: "Every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a householder, who takes out of his treasure new things and old things" (Mt 13:52).

Saint Albert is also similar to such a householder! May his example and intercession accompany me as I try, on my pilgrimage through your country, as a fisherman of men, to tie the net more tightly and cast it further, so that the kingdom of God may come.

[Pope John Paul II, homily Cologne 15 November 1980]

This Sunday’s Gospel Reading (cf. Mt 13:44-52) consists of the final verses of the chapter Matthew devotes to the parable of the Kingdom of Heaven. The passage includes three parables that are very briefly outlined: that of the hidden treasure, that of the precious pearl, and that of the net cast into the sea.

I will look at the first two in which the Kingdom of Heaven is compared to two different “precious” items, namely, the treasure hidden in the field and the pearl of great value. The reaction of the one who finds the pearl or the treasure is practically the same: the man and the merchant sell everything to buy what is now most dear to them. With these two similes, Jesus proposes to involve us in the building of the Kingdom of Heaven, presenting an essential characteristic of Christian life, of the life of the Kingdom of heaven: those who fully pledge themselves to the Kingdom are those who are willing to stake everything, who are courageous. Indeed, both the man and the merchant in the two parables sell everything they have, thus renouncing their material security. From this it can be understood that the building of the Kingdom requires not only the grace of God, but also the active willingness of humanity. Everything is done by grace, everything! We need only have the willingness to receive it, not to resist grace: grace does everything but it takes ‘my’ responsibility, ‘my’ willingness.

The gestures of that man and the merchant who go searching, depriving themselves of their goods in order to buy more precious treasures, are decisive gestures; they are radical gestures; I would say that they are only ‘one way’ gestures, not a ‘round trip’: they are ‘one way’ gestures. Moreover, they are made with joy because both of them have found a treasure. We are called upon to assume the attitude of these two Gospel figures, so that we too may become healthily restless seekers of the Kingdom of Heaven. It is a matter of abandoning the heavy burden of our worldly certainties that prevent us from seeking and building up the Kingdom: the desire for possession, the thirst for profit and power, and thinking only about ourselves.

In our times, as we are all aware, the lives of some people can end up mediocre and dull because they probably do not go in search of a true treasure: they are content with attractive but fleeting things, glittering flashes that prove illusory as they give way to darkness. Instead the light of the Kingdom is not like fireworks, it is light: fireworks last only an instant, whereas the light of the Kingdom accompanies us all our life.

The Kingdom of Heaven is the opposite of the superfluous things that the world offers; it is the opposite of a dull life: it is a treasure that renews life every day and leads it to expand towards wider horizons. Indeed, those who have found this treasure have a creative and inquisitive heart, which does not repeat but rather invents, tracing and setting out on new paths which lead us to love God, to love others, and to truly love ourselves. The sign of those who walk this path of the Kingdom is creativity, always seeking more. And creativity is what takes life and gives life, and gives, and gives, and gives... It always looks for many different ways to give life.

Jesus, who is the hidden treasure and the pearl of great value, cannot but inspire joy, all the joy of the world: the joy of discovering a meaning for one’s life, the joy of feeling committed to the adventure of holiness.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to search every day for the treasure of the Kingdom of Heaven, so that the love God has given us through Jesus may be manifested in our words and gestures.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 26 July 2020].

"Every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a householder who takes out of his treasure new things and old things" (Mt 13:52)

With this significant image Jesus includes - in the order of Chapter 13 of St Matthew - an important series of parables about the kingdom of heaven. The intention of the Master of Galilee is to make it clear that he did not come to "make a tabula rasa" of the religion, eras, culture, traditions and memory of the Jewish faith. Certainly, his kerygmatic proclamation inaugurated a new era for the faith and for all humanity. It was not, however, an ahistorical destructive deconstruction; on the contrary, it meant an inclusive construction of all social, anthropological and religious times and spaces.

In a similar vein, Pope Francis warns us of the dangers in our day of this tendency: 'For this same reason, a loss of the sense of history is also fostered, causing further disintegration. One senses the cultural penetration of a kind of 'deconstructionism', whereby human freedom claims to build everything from scratch. All that remains is the need to consume without limits and the accentuation of many forms of individualism without content" (Fratelli tutti, n. 13).The image of the "father or head of the family" that Jesus outlines in his teaching is very significant. The image of pater familias who knows how to wisely interpret the historical kairos he is living is very welcoming from many points of view, including the generational one. Drawing on the treasure chest of treasures, both new and ancient, he shows the imagination of his listeners the imprint of the kingdom of heaven, where there are neither excluded nor discarded. They are all treasures for the God of this new kingdom!

On several occasions, Jesus took care to teach, with his pedagogy of simplicity and the depth of the everyday scene, that the generational extremes, instead of being discarded, should be seen as examples to treasure.

This vision brings us closer again to some fundamental concepts expressed by Pope Francis in his encyclical Brothers All, such as, for example: 'The lack of children, which causes an ageing population, together with the abandonment of the elderly to painful loneliness, implicitly affirms that everything ends with us, that only our individual interests count' (no. 19).

Jesus publicly offers a vision of children, and of children in the concept of the human family, with a very strong inclusive content for his disciples and all present. In the social scale of those times, children occupied a forgotten and marginal place, especially if they were the children of poor families or foreigners: "Then children were brought to him to lay hands on them and to pray; but the disciples scolded them. But Jesus said to them, 'Let the children come to me, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And having laid his hands on them, he departed" (Mt 19:13-15). The disciples act in line with those cultural and social mandates of rejection. Jesus shows them a new path not only of fraternal inclusion but also of referentiality of children, with their treasures of purity in the social economy of his kingdom. The new treasures needed for human fraternity!

The same happens with the elderly. Jesus pauses in front of the place of offerings, often used as a public setting to demonstrate economic power, the supremacy of castes and social elites, all masquerading as religion. In the Gospel account we read: "And he sat in front of the treasury and observed how the crowd threw coins into the treasury. And many rich people were throwing many. But when a poor widow came she threw in two pennies, that is, a penny. Then he called his disciples to him and said to them, 'Truly I tell you, this widow has thrown more into the treasury than all the others. For all have given of their surplus, but she in her poverty has put in all that she had, all that she had to live on'" (Mk 12:41-44). Once again, the inclusive and referential treasure of the poor, elderly woman showed that other parameters such as human fraternity were needed in his counter-culture of the kingdom. Jesus, in highlighting the fact that the elderly woman was giving all she had and not the superfluous, offers a clear teaching, exemplifying a wisdom that those present need to assimilate. Reflected in it is the indispensable reserve of human old age, which urges us to teach that true treasure consists in giving, in being and not in accumulating, holding back or appearing. Ancient treasures are essential for human fraternity!

The blindness that prevents us today as a human family from perceiving the importance of the exemplariness and wisdom of the elderly is clearly pointed out in the encyclical: "We do not realise that isolating the elderly and abandoning them to the care of others without adequate and caring accompaniment by the family, mutilates and impoverishes the family itself. Moreover, it ends up depriving young people of the necessary contact with their roots and with a wisdom that youth alone cannot attain' (Fratelli tutti, n. 19).

The wise father of Jesus' pedagogy invites us to strive to bring the extremes of human society closer together so that we can treasure the good in them, unite what is divided and recompose our sense of social, religious, human and fraternal belonging. "The arduous task of overcoming what divides us without losing the identity of each one presupposes that a fundamental sense of belonging remains alive in everyone. Indeed, our society succeeds when each person, each social group, feels truly at home. In a family, parents, grandparents, children are at home; no one is excluded' (Fratelli tutti, n. 230).

[Marcelo Figueroa, in L'Osservatore Romano;

https://www.osservatoreromano.va/it/news/2020-11/quo-259/con-tesori-nuovi-e-antichi.html]

The Lord of Life (or the pale sign)

Jn 11:19-27 (1-45)

The event of death is disconcerting, and that of a friend of God in community [Bethany] perhaps accentuates the questions about the meaning of our belief and commit ourselves thoroughly.

Why in the time of greatest need does the Lord let us fall? Why does He seem not to be there (v.21)?

Letting even His dearest friends die, Jesus educates us: it is not His intention to procrastinate biological existence (vv.14-15), nor simply improve it a little.

“Eternal” [in the Gospels, the very Life of the Eternal: Zoe aiònios] is not this form of life [in the Gospels: Bìos - possibly strengthened] but only its times of strong love.

Ultimate World does not interfere with the natural course.

For this reason the Lord does not enter the “village” where others went to console and give condolences.

He wants Mary to leave the house where everyone cries in despair and mourns funeral - as if everything was over.

He intends to get us out of the “small hamlet” where it is believed that the earthly end can be only delayed, until the tomb without a future.

The natural emotion for detachment does not hold back tears, which spontaneously «flow from the eyes, sliding down» [dakryein-edakrysen].

Intimate upheaval does not produce a broken and screamed cry [klaiein] as the inconsolable one of the Jews (vv.33.35).

No farewell. For this reason, it follows the order to remove the stone that at that time closed the tombs (v.39).

The strong Call is absolutely imperative: the ‘deceased’ ones are not ‘dead’ ones, as ancient religions believed; their lives goes on.

«Lazarus, out here!» (v.43): it is the cry of the victory of life. 

In the adventure of Faith in Christ we discover that life has no stones on it. Enough, mourning the deadly situations, and the "dead ones"!

The Appeal that the Lord makes is that there is no disappeared souls’ world, separated from us; stand-alone, devoid of communication with the actual one.

Archaic beliefs imagined Hades or Sheôl as a dark, fog-soaked cavern, populated here and there by insubstantial wandering larvae.

On the contrary, the world of the living ones is not separated from that of the ‘deceased’ ones.

«Lazarus is asleep» (v.11), that is: he is not a fallen, because men do not die. They pass from the creaturely life [bìos] to full Life [Zoe].

The ‘deceased’ left this world and entered the world of God, re-Born and begotten to his authentic, complete and definitive being.

Then: «Untie him and let him go!».

In short, Lazarus did not simply end up in the pit, nor, having been well put back on his feet by Christ, did he reappear in this form of life for another stretch... inexorably marked by the limit.

In the Gospel passage, in fact, while everyone goes to Jesus, Lazarus does not.

It is not this not what Jesus can do in the face of death. He does not immortalize this condition, otherwise all existence would continue to be a useless escape from the decisive appointment.

And it is time to stop crying our loved ones: «deceased», not ‘dead’.

We must not hold them back with obsessive visits, tormented memories, talismans, condolences: let them exist happily in their new condition!

Life for us and Life for those who have already flourished in the world of God's Peace - where we will live fully: with each other and for each other.

[St  Martha, Mary and Lazarus, July 29]

The Lord of Life (or the pale sign)

(Jn 11:1-45)

Jn 9:1-41 [the famous passage of the Born Blind] makes us reflect on the sign of the opening of the eyes.

Even in losers, there can be growth in awareness of personal dignity and vocation by Faith.

One question remains: a Light, if given in time... perhaps not much use.

Christ conveys to us a consciousness filled with perception and capable of sapiential, spiritual, missionary endeavour - but is there a final Goal or does it all end there?

If we have to fend for ourselves, what is the point of the biblical Promises? 

How come we feel longings for Fulness, then the plunge into nothingness?

Where is God's Love and omnipotence? What about the Risen One, the life of the Eternal One present among us? Has not his very life already been given to us?

The event of death disconcerts, and that of a friend of God in community [Bethany] perhaps accentuates questions about the meaning of our belief and commitment.

Why is it that in our hour of greatest need, the Lord allows us to fall? Why does he seem not to be there (v.21)?

Yet we understand that to be able to carry on an endless old age would not be a victory over death.

The belief of ancient cultures is that when the gods formed mankind they attributed death to it, and kept life for themselves.

Anyone who went in desperate search of the mythical herb that makes the old young had to resign himself: to die was to leave for a country with no return.

By letting even his dearest friends perish, Jesus educates us: it is not his intention to procrastinate biological existence (vv.14-15), nor simply to improve it a little.

Christ is not a 'doctor' who comes to postpone the appointment with death, but He who conquers death - because He transforms it into a Birth.

After all, a truly authentic, human and humanising life needs to look our condition in the face.

Health and physical life are gifts that everyone wants to prolong, but at the end they must be surrendered, in the Landing that no longer scratches.

Eternal [in the Gospels, the very Life of the Eternal: Zoè aiònios] is not this form of life [in the Gospels: Bìos - perhaps enhanced] but only its times of strong love.

This is the authenticity of grace to be asked for and developed. Perenniality to be responded to, a unique condition that does not give us checkmate.

The Ultimate World does not interfere with the natural course, although it may already manifest itself - in the intimate reality of multifaceted coexistence.

But this higher experience [of Covenant even with discomfort] lurks solely in that which is indestructible quality; personal, and in micro and macro relationships.

In particular, Communion: the only sign of the form of Life that takes on but does not waver, has no limits, and will have no end.

This is why the Lord does not enter the 'village' where others have gone to console and offer condolences.

He wants Mary to come out of the house where everyone is weeping in despair and offering condolences - as if everything were over.

She intends to get us out of the 'little village' where it is believed that the earthly end can only be senselessly deferred, to the tomb with no future.

He definitely wants us out of the little village where everyone is in mourning and left with the feigned consolation of funeral practices, 'relief' seasoned only with pretty phrases.

The natural emotion of parting does not hold back the tears, which spontaneously 'flow from the eyes, slide down' [dakryein-edakrysen].

The emotion does not produce a broken and shouted cry [klaiein] like the inconsolable one of the Jews [vv.33.35 Greek text; the Italian translation is confusing].

No farewell. This is followed by the order to remove the stone that at that time closed the tombs (v.39).

The strong reminder is absolutely imperative: the 'dead' are not 'dead', as the ancient religions believe; their life continues.

"Lazarus, out here!" [v.43 Greek text]: it is the cry of the victory of life. 

In the adventure of faith in Christ we discover that life has no stones on it.

Enough, groaning over deadly situations. They bring us closer to our roots, and to full bloom.

And we stop mourning the "dead"!

The appeal the Lord makes today - still after two millennia! - is that there is no such thing as a sunken world of the disappeared.

Compared to the going on earth, the departed are not well separated from us; in a place of their own, lacking communication with the present.

Archaic beliefs imagined Hades or Sheôl to be a dark cave, steeped in mist, here and there populated with insubstantial, wandering larvae.

The world of the living is not separate from that of the dead.

"Lazarus has fallen asleep" (v.11), i.e.: he is not a fallen man, for men do not die. They pass from creaturely life [bìos] to full Life [Zoè].The deceased has left this world and entered the world of God, re-born and begotten to his authentic, complete, definitive being.

Therefore: "Unbind him and let him go!".

In short, Lazarus did not simply end up in the grave, nor was he well revived by Christ he reappears in this form of life for another stretch... inexorably marked by limitation.

In the story, in fact, while everyone goes towards Jesus, Lazarus does not.

This is not what Jesus can do in the face of death. He does not immortalise this condition, otherwise existence would continue to be a useless flight from the decisive appointment.

And it is time to stop sobbing over the loved one: 'deceased', not 'dead'.

We should not hold it back with obsessive visits, tormented memories, talismans, condolences: let it exist happily in its new condition!

Life for us and Life for those who have already flourished in the world of God's Peace - where we live fully: with one another and for one another.

A condition that we can thus prefigure, dissolving not a few intimate blocks, external impediments, and relational laces; drowned in the moods of bitterness, consternation, and despondency:

"Even today Jesus repeats to us: 'Remove the stone. God did not create us for the grave, he created us for life, beautiful, good, joyful.

Therefore, we are called to remove the stones of everything that smacks of death: for example, the hypocrisy with which one lives the faith, it is death; the destructive criticism of others, it is death; the offence, the slander, it is death; the marginalisation of the poor, it is death.

The Lord asks us to remove these stones from our hearts, and life will then flourish around us again.

Christ lives, and whoever accepts Him and adheres to Him comes into contact with life. Without Christ, or outside of Christ, not only is there no life, but we fall back into death.

Let each one of us be close to those who are in trial, becoming for them a reflection of God's love and tenderness, which frees from death and makes life conquer".

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 March 2020].

To internalise and live the message:

In the face of bereavement, what atmosphere do you perceive at home, in church, at the cemetery, during the funeral? And condolences, how do they affect you?

On Bethany [continuation of the Lazarus passage]:

Jesus Comes to the Feast, but as a stowaway

(Jn 11:45-56)

Christ is all that the Jewish feasts promised and proclaimed.

They decried authoritatively, but unconsciously (vv.47-52 take pleasure in double-meaning words).

The high priest was in fact speaking for God: he was interpreting the situation in a divinely inspired way.

In Christ, the promise made to Abraham was being fulfilled: the era of the dispersion of men was coming to an end.

The Cross would fulfil the vocation of the Temple: the recomposition of the people and the unity of the human being from the barren and distant land, in sharing and gratuitousness.

But what could also have been the starting point (energy) for Jesus not to retreat within the limits of his own environment down to the last detail, and to activate a path of rebirth?

The community of Bethany ['house of the poor'] is an image of the first realities of faith, destitute and composed of only brothers and sisters, without co-opted and appointed authorities. On a personal scale.

Where one could loosen those bonds that prevented one from going beyond the already known. Without patriarchs with calibrated, obsessive and vindictive control - where one does not look at oneself.

A nest of healthy relationships, which could give meaning even to wounds.

It is the only place where Jesus was at ease, the only reality in which we can still recognise him alive and present in the midst of - indeed, Source of life for the modest and needy.

Strident in the Gospel passage is the comparison with the vulgar cunning of the directors and the out-of-scale dimension of the commanded places and festivals.

As if no sap flows there between God's holiness and the real life of the lowly.

Despite the fact that the Master did good - as in all regimes, there was no lack of delinquents (v.46).

On the other hand, a large part of the inhabitants of Jerusalem found their material sustenance in the Temple activities.

Imagine if the top of the class would have let themselves be ripped off the bone to go after a stranger who intended to supplant the official institution and positions of privilege with an unadorned utopia.

The throne of the prince of the fraternal house was conversely without cushions, and the community co-ordinator a woman: Marta ['madam']. Backward, servant leader.

Anything but a reactionary defence of privileged positions and the ancient order... still all downward tensions and 'settling' according to chain of command, which never give us any hints of new life. A viscous situation that the initiative of the synodal path finally attempts to unhinge.Under Domitian, these small alternative realities - although caring for the small and distant - had to live like Jesus: clandestine.

They paid for their unity with the cross. But they renewed the life of the empire.

[That of Lazarus is] the last "sign" fulfilled by Jesus, after which the chief priests convened the Sanhedrin and deliberated killing him, and decided to kill the same Lazarus who was living proof of the divinity of Christ, the Lord of life and death. Actually, this Gospel passage shows Jesus as true Man and true God. First of all, the Evangelist insists on his friendship with Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. He emphasizes that "Jesus loved" them (Jn 11: 5), and this is why he wanted to accomplish the great wonder. "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him out of sleep" (Jn 11: 11), he tells his disciples, expressing God's viewpoint on physical death with the metaphor of sleep. God sees it exactly as sleep, from which he can awaken us. Jesus has shown an absolute power regarding this death, seen when he gives life back to the widow of Nain's young son (cf. Lk 7: 11-17) and to the 12 year-old girl (cf. Mk 5: 35-43). Precisely concerning her he said:  "The child is not dead but sleeping" (Mk 5: 39), attracting the derision of those present. But in truth it is exactly like this: bodily death is a sleep from which God can awaken us at any moment.

This lordship over death does not impede Jesus from feeling sincere "com-passion" for the sorrow of detachment. Seeing Martha and Mary and those who had come to console them weeping, Jesus "was deeply moved in spirit and troubled", and lastly, "wept" (Jn 11: 33, 35). Christ's heart is divine-human:  in him God and man meet perfectly, without separation and without confusion. He is the image, or rather, the incarnation of God who is love, mercy, paternal and maternal tenderness, of God who is Life. Therefore, he solemnly declared to Martha:  "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die". And he adds, "Do you believe this?" (Jn 11: 25-26). It is a question that Jesus addresses to each one of us:  a question that certainly rises above us, rises above our capacity to understand, and it asks us to entrust ourselves to him as he entrusted himself to the Father. Martha's response is exemplary:  "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world" (Jn 11: 27). Yes, O Lord! We also believe, notwithstanding our doubts and darkness; we believe in you because you have the words of eternal life. We want to believe in you, who give us a trustworthy hope of life beyond life, of authentic and full life in your Kingdom of light and peace.

We entrust this prayer to Mary Most Holy. May her intercession strengthen our faith and hope in Jesus, especially in moments of greater trial and difficulty.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 March 2008]