32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [8 November 2026]

 

*First Reading from the Book of Wisdom (6:12–16) 

The Book of Wisdom presents Wisdom not merely as a quality of the intellect, but as a radiant presence that offers itself to humankind and leads it to the truth. It is not enough simply to be intelligent or to accumulate knowledge: one must have a heart willing to seek, to listen and to allow oneself to be transformed. Today’s reading is divided into three sections: Wisdom is luminous and never sets (v. 12), and so it allows itself to be contemplated by those who love it. Wisdom takes the initiative (vv. 13–14) and goes out to meet those who desire her, making herself known to those who seek her. Wisdom, in turn, seeks out humankind (vv. 15–16) and reaches those who rise early to seek her, meeting them with kindness. It is important to note this reciprocity: man seeks Wisdom, and Wisdom, in a sense, seeks man. The spiritual quest is not merely a human endeavour but also a response to a call that precedes it. Wisdom is light that enables one to see things as they are and thus to understand their meaning. Even if one possesses a great deal of information, one may still not know which direction to give to one’s life; one may know the means, but be unaware of the end; one may be skilled in action, but ill-equipped to discern what is truly good. Wisdom, on the other hand, is ‘unfailing’: it does not run out, does not lose its value, and is not rendered obsolete by passing fashions. In the context of the book, written within a Hellenistic Jewish milieu, probably in Alexandria in Egypt between the 1st century BC and the beginning of the 1st century AD, Wisdom is God’s gift that guides humankind in righteousness and faithfulness. It is not knowledge reserved for a select few initiates, but a light capable of providing practical guidance for life because True wisdom does not consist in knowing everything, but in seeing life in the light of God. Those who love the truth are willing to listen even to what challenges their own convictions, and if they seek it sincerely, they are willing to change course when they discover they were mistaken. The verb ‘to contemplate’ does not imply a hurried glance, but an attentiveness capable of pausing and receiving. Wisdom therefore requires a heart free from the presumption of already possessing all the answers. We live in a society where information is accessible at all times, but reflection is often sacrificed to speed; we know how to look for an answer on a screen, but it is harder to find the silence needed to understand whether that answer truly makes us more human. ‘Anticipating those who desire her, she appears to them first’ (v. 13): here one of the deepest insights of this text emerges. Wisdom precedes human seeking because God does not remain passively waiting for humankind to reach him through its own efforts; rather, it is his Wisdom that draws near and reveals itself to those willing to receive it—even though the divine initiative does not eliminate human freedom, but rather stirs it to life and sustains it. It is a fundamental principle of the spiritual life: even before a person seeks God, God has already opened a path for them to encounter him. This perspective frees us from two opposing errors: the presumption of being able to win God over by our own abilities, and the discouragement of those who think that God is too distant or unattainable. How, then, do we encounter Wisdom?  In prayer, in the Word of God, in discernment, in a rightly formed conscience, in listening to another person, and even in a trial endured with faith. The problem is not a lack of time, but the way in which we organise our time; and the question this raises is: what place does the search for God occupy in my daily life? Wisdom reaches us in our everyday lives, in our decisions and in our thoughts; it is not a theory separate from existence: it illuminates the way we act, love, govern and relate to others. Finally, for the Christian, Wisdom finds its fulfilment in Christ, whom Saint Paul proclaims to be ‘the power of God and the wisdom of God’ (1 Cor 1:24). In Jesus, divine Wisdom offers more than just a teaching: it draws near to humankind, shares in our human condition and shows us the way of love. We thus see a dynamic at work that runs through the whole of the spiritual life: desiring, seeking, encountering, allowing oneself to be guided. Desire opens the heart; seeking makes it persevering; the encounter enlightens it; and welcoming Wisdom transforms our daily choices. We may conclude with three simple questions: Am I truly seeking God’s Wisdom, or am I primarily seeking confirmation of my own ideas? What concrete space do I set aside each day for silence, prayer and listening? Do the decisions I make demonstrate greater wisdom—that is, greater truth, justice and love? In short: it is not the person who knows many things who is wise, but the one who learns to see their own life in the light of God.  If one lives in this way, one does not walk alone and, whilst seeking Wisdom, one realises that Wisdom itself has already come to meet one.  

 

*Responsorial Psalm (62/63) 

Psalm 62 in the Catholic liturgical numbering (63 in the Hebrew numbering and in many modern Bibles) is the song of a person who, even in solitude and trial, discovers that God is more necessary than life itself, for He is the source that gives meaning to life. It is therefore not merely the prayer of one in need of help, but the prayer of one who has discovered that no created reality can fully quench the thirst of the human heart. The biblical title links it to David whilst he was in the wilderness of Judah. We cannot identify the historical episode with certainty, but the image of the wilderness is fundamental to understanding its message. The desert is a real place, arid and arduous, but it also becomes a symbol of a spiritual condition: when certainties fade and one experiences the desert of the heart, one is led back to the essential questions. From this perspective, we discern four themes in the psalm: The thirst for God (vv. 2–3): the soul seeks the Lord as parched land seeks water. The soul praises him and remembers him (vv. 4–6): God’s love is worth more than life itself and becomes a source of blessing. Communion in the night (vv. 7–9): the believer remembers God even during the darkest hours and finds refuge in his presence. Trust in divine justice (vv. 10–12): evil will not have the last word, and the Lord will protect those who entrust themselves to him. The focus of the psalm is therefore not the desert, but the presence of God discovered precisely in the desert. The prayer begins with a personal declaration: ‘You are my God’. The psalmist does not speak first and foremost of what God can give him, but of who God is to him, and this reminds us that relationship comes before the request; belonging comes before need. The expression ‘from the dawn’ indicates the intensity of the search, and the believer begins the day by turning to the One who is its very foundation. May God always be the first inner reference point with which we face decisions, relationships and difficulties. A brief prayer upon waking may not necessarily change the events of the day, but it can change the way in which we experience them. ‘My soul thirsts for you; my body longs for you’ (v. 2). Thirst is one of the most powerful biblical images of the longing for God, and the psalmist does not simply say that he thinks of God, but affirms that he thirsts for him. Contemporary society offers many opportunities for immediate gratification: consumption, entertainment, visibility, virtual relationships; yet our longing can remain unfulfilled even when we have many things. Not every desire is a conscious thirst for God, but the deepest longings — to be loved, to find meaning, not to be alone, to hope beyond death — can become a path to recognising this thirst. Just as the earth without water cannot produce life on its own, so the believer recognises that they are not self-sufficient, and biblical prayer reminds us that recognising one’s own thirst is the beginning of wisdom. Those who believe themselves to be self-sufficient risk seeking nothing more; those who recognise their own poverty can open themselves up to relationship, to grace and to the help of others. 

 

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians (4:13–18)  

Paul writes to a young community, that of Thessalonica, in which some Christians had died before Christ’s glorious return.  The believers wonder what will happen to those who have died and whether they will lose their share in final salvation. The Apostle does not respond with a purely theoretical explanation of the afterlife, but proclaims the heart of the Christian faith: death does not have the final say, because Jesus died and rose again. The hope of Christians springs from Christ’s Resurrection, and Paul wishes that Christians should not be in the dark about the fate of the departed. In the Greek text, he uses the expression hoi koimōmenoi, that is, ‘those who have fallen asleep’, and the imagery of sleep is a metaphor which, in the light of the Resurrection, expresses the temporary nature of death: just as sleep awaits awakening, so the believer awaits the Resurrection. In ancient culture, death was often experienced as a definitive separation and a cause for despair. Paul does not deny the pain of separation, but he wishes to spare Christians from despair. Even today, death can be repressed, hidden away in hospitals or regarded as a failure to be avoided at all costs; or it can become a reality that paralyses those left behind. Faith does not ask us not to weep: it teaches us to weep without losing hope. Indeed, Paul does not set Christians in opposition to those who suffer, as if faith made them insensitive. Jesus himself wept at Lazarus’s tomb (John 11:35). The difference does not lie in the absence of sadness, but in the presence of a hope that transcends the pain. Hope does not simply mean a wish that things will turn out well, but a trust grounded in God’s work. A Christian may suffer deeply at the loss of a loved one. Their faith does not erase the void left by that person’s absence, but enables them to live with that void within a greater relationship: communion in Christ, which death cannot destroy. Jesus died and rose again: this is the foundation of the entire passage. The Christian faith is not based primarily on the idea that the soul is immortal, nor on a vague belief that something exists after death. Its centre is an event: God raised Jesus from the dead. The verb ‘will gather’ evokes God’s saving action: He does not abandon His children to the dispersion of death, but leads them into communion with Christ; and His resurrection is the guarantee of our hope: what God has accomplished in Him foreshadows the destiny of those who belong to Him. The fundamental question is not merely: ‘What lies beyond death?’, but rather: ‘Who awaits us beyond death?’ For the Christian, the ultimate future is neither nothingness nor an impersonal force: it is Christ, the Lord who died and rose again, who calls us into communion with himself. The Christians of Thessalonica were eagerly awaiting Christ’s return, his parousia, his glorious coming, and some feared that those who had died before that event might be at a disadvantage. Paul makes it clear that this will not be the case. The dead will not be forgotten or excluded. The destiny of Christians does not depend on whether they are alive or dead at the time of the Lord’s coming. It is important to note that Paul speaks within the context of the Christian expectation of the end times, but he does not give a precise date nor does he authorise anyone to determine when Christ’s return will take place. God does not judge human life by its success, its duration or the possibility of being present at a particular historical event. Even those who die seemingly too soon remain in the Lord’s hands. This truth is particularly comforting in the face of the death of children, young people and those who seemed to have so much left to achieve. Paul also describes the Lord’s coming using apocalyptic imagery: a solemn command, the voice of the archangel, the divine trumpet. We need not necessarily interpret these elements as a foretold account of material events. Apocalyptic language uses powerful imagery to proclaim a theological certainty: history is not abandoned to chaos; the Lord will come to fulfil his work of salvation. In the Old Testament, the trumpet was used to summon the people, announce a divine manifestation or accompany a decisive event. ‘And so we shall always be with the Lord’ (v. 17): this is the culminating phrase of the passage. All the preceding images lead to this promise. The ultimate goal of salvation is not simply to continue to exist, nor to know the secrets of the afterlife: it is to be with the Lord for ever. Eternal life is full communion with Christ, the fulfilment of the relationship begun in faith, nourished by the Word and the sacraments, and lived out in charity. And Christian hope is not merely a desire to reach a place called paradise: it is a longing to live eternally with the One we have learnt to love. ‘Therefore comfort one another with these words’ (v. 18). Paul concludes with a communal imperative: ‘comfort one another’. The hope of the resurrection is not a truth to be treasured solely as an individual: it is a gift to be shared. The Christian community is called to support those who are grieving, to accompany the dying, and to remember the departed in prayer. Christian consolation does not consist in uttering facile phrases in the face of grief, but in bearing witness to a hope that springs from Christ. When faced with someone who has lost a loved one, it is sometimes better not to seek immediate explanations; first and foremost, we must simply be there, listen, share in the silence, and pray. Hope becomes credible when it is expressed through concrete acts of closeness. 

 

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (25:1–3) 

This passage forms part of Jesus’ great eschatological discourse (Mt 24–25) and is one of the parables on Christian vigilance and the expectation of the Lord. Jesus invites his disciples to live not simply by waiting for the end, but by keeping their hearts ready for the encounter with him. The ten virgins are young women attending a wedding feast and, according to custom, they accompanied the bride or waited for the bridegroom to join the wedding procession and accompany him to the feast. The figure of the bridegroom evokes an important biblical symbolism: God is the Bridegroom of his people. In Hosea, God promises: ‘I will make you my bride for ever’ (2:21–22); in Isaiah: ‘As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you’ (62:5). Jesus himself presents himself as the Bridegroom (Mt 9:15). Therefore, in the parable, the bridegroom is Christ and the wedding feast represents the definitive communion with him. The Christian life is not merely a matter of observing precepts: it is a waiting for a person, Christ, who comes to meet us. Of the ten virgins, five are wise and five are foolish. The Greek text uses two very significant words: Phrónimoi (φρόνιμοι): wise, prudent, capable of discernment; mōraí (μωραί): foolish, senseless, lacking in discernment. This is not an intellectual difference, but a spiritual one. The ten virgins all share certain characteristics: they have all received the invitation to the feast; they all possess a lamp; they all go out to meet the bridegroom; they all fall asleep when the bridegroom is delayed. The difference, therefore, does not lie in the invitation received, the lamp possessed or the ability to stay awake. The difference lies in their preparation. The wise ones also bring oil with them, whilst the foolish ones take only their lamps, and here we find the first fundamental lesson: it is not enough to have a lamp; one must have oil to keep it burning. The lamp may represent the faith received, the Christian vocation, or the outwardly religious life, whilst the oil represents what nourishes faith from within: charity, perseverance, prayer, daily fidelity and a living communion with God. It is important to note that the text does not explicitly identify the oil with a single reality. Christian spiritual tradition has seen in it, above all, charity and the inner life nourished by grace. Furthermore, the bridegroom’s delay is a test of time: ‘Since the bridegroom was delayed, they all dozed off and fell asleep’. This is one of the most human expressions in the parable because even the wise virgins fall asleep, and Jesus makes no distinction between those who know no weariness and those who do. If everyone experiences human frailty, the problem is not falling asleep, but being unprepared when the moment of the encounter arrives. The bridegroom’s delay evokes the course of history, in which the Lord sometimes seems absent or distant; it is a time of trial, of perseverance, of faith that does not immediately see results. How often do we too ask ourselves: Why is God slow to intervene? Why does my prayer seem to go unheard? Why does goodness seem to be losing ground? Why does the Lord seem to remain silent? The parable teaches that God’s apparent delay must not become a reason for abandoning the faith, and that true wisdom lies in preparing oneself for even a long wait, without allowing the lamp to go out. ‘At midnight there was a cry: “Here is the bridegroom! Go out to meet him!”’ Midnight is the darkest hour of the night. Symbolically, it may represent the moment when we least expect the Lord’s arrival, and a sudden cry interrupts our sleep and confronts us all with the decisive reality: the bridegroom has arrived. It is interesting to note that the Greek text reads: “Idou ho nymphíos! (Ἰδοὺ ὁ νυμφίος!) ‘Behold, the bridegroom!’”, not ‘behold the judge’, or the master, or indeed the one who comes to call us to account. The bridegroom is coming! The coming of Christ is, first and foremost, an encounter with the One who loves us and desires to unite us to himself. However, this encounter has a decisive dimension: one cannot improvise one’s relationship with God at the last moment. Oil cannot be lent out, and when the foolish virgins plead with the wise ones, the reply may seem harsh: ‘No, lest we and you run out.’ This is not a matter of selfishness, nor is it that Jesus wishes to teach us not to share; for the meaning is spiritually much deeper. There are things we can share and things that no one can experience in our place. No one can believe in our place; love God in our place; be converted in our place; live out their own faithfulness in our place; or build a personal relationship with Christ in our place. A priest can accompany a soul, a parent can bring up a child, a friend can support another friend, but no one can take the place of the personal response that each of us must give to God. Faith can be passed on, but the personal relationship with Christ must be lived out by each individual. The foolish virgins therefore return when the door is already shut and cry out: ‘Lord, Lord, open to us!’; the bridegroom replies: ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ It is one of the most powerful expressions in the Gospel. The Greek verb is oida (οἶδα), ‘to know’. And in the Bible, ‘to know’ does not simply mean possessing information about someone, but entering into a personal relationship; it is not enough to know Jesus intellectually, to speak of Him, to carry out a ministry or to take part in celebrations. One must belong to Him, live with Him and allow oneself to be transformed by His love. Jesus had said: ‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord”, will enter the kingdom of heaven. The greatest danger is having an outward religiosity without true inner communion with Christ, and the closed door invites us to reflect on life’s ultimate encounter with God. The time of preparation belongs to this present life: ‘Keep watch, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.’ In the conclusion lies the fundamental message of the parable. The Greek verb grēgoreîte (γρηγορεῖτε) means: stay awake, keep watch, remain alert; and this Gospel-inspired vigilance is neither fear of death nor anxiety about the future, but living each day with our sights set on Christ. We do not know when he will come, but we know how we must live whilst we await him. This parable teaches us that the Christian life cannot be improvised; it is not enough to have been baptised, to know the Gospel, to belong to the Church or to carry out a ministry, for we must nurture our relationship with Christ every day. The lamp is what is visible; the oil is what nourishes it and is the hidden life. The lamp may be admired by people, but the oil is known above all – and sometimes only – by God. We must not concern ourselves merely with having a lamp to show, but with possessing a heart that burns with love for Christ. Ultimately, the parable tells us that Christian wisdom consists in living each day in such a way as to be ready to welcome the Lord. Unfortunately, the tragedy is not that the night is long, but that, whilst we wait for the Bridegroom, we may allow the oil of love to run out.

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

«Lateran/ to mortal things went above»

(Jn 2:13-22)

 

Where to worship the Most High?

Already the cosmos is like a great cathedral, wich weaves divine praises; then surely both the heights and the temples have had a historical sense.

But now Christ is the place where woman and man meet God, the centre of irruption and deployment of the Father’s Love, in the cosmos.

The Lord willingly comes, to merge with the life of the believer and to expand his abilities, qualitative resources, world of relationships.

The Eternal lives and acts in the Friend who - even unconsciously - accepts his proposals.

Thus, even if the heavens do not contain Him, the Lord deigns and delights to be among us and in us.

The great ancient Sovereign was relegated to the Temple, and in the events of everyday life one forgot about Him. Now we are the real and living Sanctuaries.

So, even if the crowds of tourists wander around to admire the art, the Basilicas are a sign, not reality.

We are the ‘churches’ outside the churches, where the Source of being that ‘reveals itself’ dwells and we must make others encounter it.

Effective sign and anticipation of a more human cosmos. In each the Face of Christ.

Only in this sense «Lateran/ to mortal things went upstairs» [Dante, Paradise 31, 30-35].

 

«Easter was drawing near»: a time of liberation from slavery – from the merchants and usurers who had taken the God of the Exodus captive.

The people believed that they were emancipated by the acquisition of the ‘promised land’, and that they practiced a welcome cult.

In reality it was still a slave to a pagan image of the Almighty.

In fact, the Temple complex consisted of a series of circuits that gradually selected visitors.

Jesus wants to dismantle the barriers that prevent us from approaching God; all prejudices and dividing walls.

The great Novelty is that in Him everyone has access to the Father.

He proposes communion as a conviviality of differences, not synergy with different purpose.

Then, the fear instilled by the old religiosity had transformed the great places of worship of the ancient East into banks.

And the mixture of prayer and money is really unbearable.

When economic interests take over, the consequences for weightless people [and civilisation itself] are devastating.

Thus, the Master knocks us out of the false image of God, to recover it within each of us.

In short, we must do away with the palisades - albeit "ideals" - in which gratuitousness and prayer have very little resembling the relationship of the Son with the Father.

All this also pushing us to understand elsewhere, sailing towards impossible territories.

Finally arriving more and more at the density of the Mystery that wants to travel with us.

We’re gonna make a whole different kind of takeovers.

 

By now the haggling is incompatible with our action of ‘living stones’.

 

 

[Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, November 9]

Living Stones and Liberation from usurers:

Sign and Anticipation of a new cosmos, of a new humanity

(Jn 2:13-22)

 

Where to worship the Most High? Already the cosmos is like a great cathedral, weaving divine praise; then certainly both high places and temples made historical sense.

But now Christ is the place where woman and man meet God, the centre of irruption and unfolding of the Father's Love, in the cosmos.

The Lord comes willingly, to merge with the life of the believer and expand his capacities, qualitative resources, world of relationships.

The Eternal lives and acts in the friend who - albeit unconsciously - accepts his proposals. Thus, even if the heavens do not contain Him, He deigns and delights to be among us and in us.

The great ancient Sovereign was relegated to the Temple, and in the affairs of daily life we forgot Him. Now we are the shrines, true and living.

So, even if crowds of tourists wander around to admire the art, the basilicas are signs, not realities.

We are the churches outside the churches, where the Source of being dwells, which reveals itself and which we must make others encounter.

Effective sign and anticipation of a more human cosmos. In each one the Face of Christ.

Only in this sense "Lateran/ a le cose mortali andò di sopra" [Dante, Paradiso 31, 30-35].

 

 

«Easter was drawing near»: a time of liberation from slavery – from the merchants and usurers who had taken the God of the Exodus captive.

The people believed that they were emancipated through the acquisition of the 'promised land', and that they worshipped in a pleasing manner.

In reality, they were still enslaved to a pagan image of the Almighty, and to a religiosity repeatedly patched up for the use of the professionals of the sacred.

The Temple in Jerusalem was the pride of the spiritualising elite, yet Jesus behaves in a way that disconcerts the established cultural system.

He does not mediate, he does not seek support, he does not intend to make a career, he does not mind throwing away the market so dear to the priestly class.

Every implication was based on a false teaching, which appealed to the sense of unworthiness inculcated in simple people. Hence on the fear of heavenly curses - under conditions, favourable only to the protagonists of the religious trade.

 

The Temple complex was made up of a series of circuits that gradually screened out visitors.

Into the esplanade could enter all sane people, even pagans; then began the walls of separation.

The first, under threat of death, blocked the non-Israelites. The second the women, the third also the circumcised.

Only the ritualists had access to the inner sanctuary: no layman could tread on the sacred stones.

Only the high priest entered the holy of holies, once a year (Yom Kippur day).

The most striking feature of the complex [logic of its closed precincts] was Separation: the exclusion of people.

Precisely those most in need were not allowed in: the sick, paralytics, sinners, publicans, shepherds - not even Israelites.

Jesus wants to dismantle the barriers that prevent people from approaching God; all prejudices and dividing walls.

The great novelty is that in Him everyone has access to the Father, without hindrance or imprimatur to be implored.

He proposes communion as conviviality of differences, not synergy with any purpose.

He values the unicum of personal resources, not proposing the usual totem - hammering any of our faculties.

Anyone who wishes may enter the sanctuary of the new Temple-Person, without hindrance [nor having to first obtain permission (as sometimes happens) from dangerous, opaque, and insulting people].

 

Then, the fear inculcated by the old religiosity had turned the great houses of worship of the ancient East into banks - as well as places of obsession.

The mixture of prayer and money is really unbearable. When economic interests take over, the consequences on civilisation and weightless people are devastating.

But the theatre of 'sanctifying' and respectable power is back (at times, almost imperturbable) even under the aegis of the poor Crucified.

So Jesus in his prophets came - even - to emphasise the incompatibility between commerce and a life of communion with the Father.

Which connotes the enormous difference between material building and personal sacred place.

Christ in us does not set out to mend the ancient pious practice, nor to purify the Temple, but to replace it, to supplant it. And even eliminate it - because it tends to legitimise illusions of perfection, which dehumanise hearts and assemblies.

The Master throws us out of the false image of God presented in the spaces of what appears inviolable and heavenly... to recover him within each one of us and in the community that we really meet.

In short, we must put an end to the palisades - even 'ideal' ones - in which gratuitousness and prayer bear little resemblance to the Son's relationship with the Father.Informal and unbalanced in love like the Eternal Himself, we too do not know how to 'be in the world' in a fixed, tranquil, reassuring way.

By Faith we are no longer the product of shrines of cold, hard stones.

Not infrequently, temples are images of abstract religious knowledge, and of a standard way of life that incapacitates, that cannot give answers to new questions, that does not solve real problems.

We would indeed like to learn to translate our leaps forward with the "nostalgia for the infinite", with the desire to return to the Source, to Beauty, to the origins - but which accompany the "pilgrim".

They in Christ do not create any "constant and obsessive bond" [cf. Brothers All, no. 44].

Nor do we expect to end up in the surrendering and disembodied ideology of the elites: a way of thinking so sophisticated that it totally blocks any challenging bet for an educational risk and pastoral action.

We are not qualunquists.

On the contrary, we yearn to go all the way, to discover the Roots, and to astound the unexpressed characters; in the life of love that reaches the shadowy, hidden, deep sides. Those sides to which we have not yet given space.

Without precisely silencing anxieties, nor denying dark sides, or the contradictions, unpleasant moments, fractures, discomforts that coexist in the essence. And they complete us.

 

We will learn how to return to the House that belongs to the founding Eros, without suppressing the intimate protrusions - appeals of the soul, often constricted.

Then we will know and teach how to recover the bitter, unpleasant or "impure" dimensions that the wall temple imagines can be neglected, removed, sterilised.

Instead, they configure the most fertile terrain of our evolution.

All this may not reassure, but it activates the Exodus - pushing us to understand elsewhere, navigating towards impossible territories.

Finally, landing more and more in the density of the Mystery that wants to travel with us.

And devotions or not, we will make a different kind of acquisition - not that of business partners with God - or of 'separates'.

 

"Today the liturgy commemorates the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, which is the cathedral of Rome and which tradition defines as "mother of all the churches of the Urbe and the Orbe". The term 'mother' refers not so much to the sacred building of the Basilica as to the work of the Holy Spirit that is manifested in this building" [Pope Francis, Angelus 9 November 2014].

We reiterate: only in this sense "Lateran/ a le cose mortali andò di sopra".

Sorry for the leaders of the "news" who want to tear us away from the infinite codes that inhabit us.

The eminent Friendly Self takes our step - he does not intend to relegate us to enlisted world-bearers.

Smuggling is now incompatible with our action as living stones.

The same is true in the relationship of Faith-Immediate Identity: no trading (cf. vv.23-25).

With those who approach Him as miracle-workers, material protectors, or banners for sacralising visions of the world all planted in the mire of the chronicle, Jesus has a detached attitude.

Credulity in the extraordinary of prodigies or thoughts is fragile, transient - subservient to the persistence of outward spectacles, flashy manners and fashions, or the useful.

It is not here that one accepts to become - like Him - critical witnesses of the new world. Fathers and mothers of a new humanity.

 

"If man pays attention to the objects of the senses, attachment to them eventually arises in him; from attachment arises desire, from desire arises anger; from anger arises bewilderment, from bewilderment confusion in memory, from loss of memory the ruin of the intellect: with the ruin of the intellect man is lost" (Bhagavad Gita, II, 62-63).

 

 

Liberation and Personalisation: Difference between Religiousness and Faith

 

Little House of God or place of business? No more haggling

(Lk 19:45-48)

 

Jesus notes that around the activity that took place within the perimeters of the Temple a whole ambiguous structure of sin had been articulated.

The Sanctuary's business eagerness was not even hidden - indeed, it even confronted it.

But the priestly perspectives of the holy tribute and the horizons of the people's full life conflicted.

Ditto for the aims of jurists and doctors, who willingly flocked especially under Solomon's porch [on the other side, towards the east] to 'grant' advice.

The exclusive function of fostering an encounter with the presence of God was totally mortified.

The sacred area had become a den of shrewd merchants, businessmen perpetually on the prowl, always intent on changing currency.

This was with the blessing of the sect of the ruling Sadducees, who could not resist the temptation to pull the strings of the lavish trade.In ousting the false friends of the succouring Father, the parasites of religiosity, the Lord does not so much aim to restore the purity of the Place, nor to restore the polish of the original sober worship - as the Prophets intended.

He renders a holy service not to the ancient God (as in the religions) but to the people - by that system [or tangle] rendered totally unaware of their own vocational dignity: only chained, milked, and sheared.

 

Indeed, the Zealots aimed to restore the purity of rituals. They imagined that they could somehow recover their coherence.

The Essenes, on the other hand, had abandoned the Temple altogether. They considered the shameful situation now compromised.

John the Baptist had made the same detachment.

Although of priestly lineage, he preached to the people the forgiveness of sins through a conversion of life, not through the sacrifices of the liturgy [only in Jerusalem].

Instead, the authentic Angel of the Covenant was definitely intransigent, far more radical than any of them!

In fact, according to the very first Christians, who frequented the Temple, the place of encounter with God, the land from which his Love radiated, was no longer linked to material aspects.

Nor was it in itself religious; much less imbued with doctrinal observances, moralistic codes, or one-sided worldviews.

 

Thus, for us too, the divine Presence and its Communion are not caught in mythical purity, ancient magnificence, perfectionist endeavours - or à la page adherence.

Service to God is honouring woman and man as and where they are: sacred respect starts from a Gift that already runs through our lives. Opinions are of no use.

The unknown Friend wants to dwell in us not to appropriate, but to merge and expand our relational and qualitative capacities. Our own, not others' or on the side.

In Christ, we move from obedience to more or less dated norms [even futuristic ones] to the style of personal likeness. That which builds living shrines.

Honour to the Father is realised not in the details or in the spirit of the body already dictated, but in the sons and daughters, however - if they live in fraternity.

This happens especially when they assimilate Jesus' Teaching [on Grace] (v.47).

Thus in time, they learn conviviality from Himself, and together they are encouraged to dialogue with their exceptional and unrepeatable Vocation, which captivates because it truly corresponds.

And intimate conviction is alone, incomparable and precious energy of transformative value - which leads one not to withdraw from oneself, one's own exceptionalism, nor to overlook the reality of one's brothers.

Rather, it induces one to make Exodus, to explore new conditions of being, to transfigure perception into blissful action.

Only from here does coexistence arise.

 

And Sin indeed remains deviation, but no longer transgression of the law - but inability to correspond to the Call that characterises, unleashes and empowers a surprising uniqueness of Relationship.

The first Tent of God is thus humanity itself, its beating heart - not a space of stones and bricks, fixed, delimited, or fanciful... to be adorned with overlays.

 

Having entered Jerusalem, the Master takes possession of the heavenly House - which is not the Temple, but the People.

That is why He casts out of the sacred imagery inculcated in the naive, precisely the most uneducational traits of the festival - and especially teaches the unhealthy, to feel already adequate!

Unbelievable: to each Christ changes the mental atmosphere.

The true Lord does not teach us to enter into habitual or abstract and formal armour, accepted in outline but distant from ourselves, from creatures.

Rather, he encourages us not to restrain our true nature with cloaks of habit [dated or not] according to which 'it is never enough'.

 

Behind our character essence lies a fruitful, unrepeatable, singular Calling; with visual and social implications that we do not know.

As we are - just so - we are fine.

There is no need to exorcise anything of our deepest being, which spontaneously manifests its compressed discomforts and joyful correspondences, even in outward eccentricities.

Rather, any conventional epidermal, adaptive, or cunning domestication stifles the core of the Calling by Name - authentic Guidance, impulse of Spirit.

Our inner world is not to be hysterically regarded as a dangerous outsider to be reconfigured.

Our innate roots and natural energy have the right to flourish and prevail over common ways or ideas: they are experimental traces of the Divine.

There is a Personal bond in them.

 

The Lord's claim is immediately countered by the hostility of the paludates, interested in the give-and-take of that mannerist theatre.

They make him out to be deranged, to be eliminated immediately: a very dangerous dreamer, because he activates and enhances souls, instead of the mediating structure.This is the condemnation handed down by the 'big boys' in society: the outcome of any truth operation.

This is how they try to tarnish any attempt at emancipation of the oppressed in spirit, in the core of the self - whether through fear of God or obsession with unworthiness.

But in today's reality, which heels us in, the Risen One continues to demythologise the excessive preoccupation with identified places, the "heights" of settled and material character.

With their implications that do not nourish in a full and stable way - on the contrary, they become a cankerworm.

In short, a change of approach is needed.

He himself is the essential point of worship of the Eternal.

In such a light of Person in His Person, each one can embrace proposals that are not others and intrusive; that will not prove to be ballast.

And the Church's authentic prestige will be to echo the proclamation that liberates and truly pleases.

Obviously provoking the same mercantile tensions; litmus test of our divine action.

 

Through the work of apostles frightened by the bluntness of the authorities, and perhaps themselves prone to compromise - the magnificent sanctuary that Jesus had explicitly described as a den of scoundrels will once again become the centre of the ecclesial assembly [Lk 24:53; Acts 5:12].

It will provide more effectively... not the burning conscience, but the tragic history of the holy city, to make its excess of importance fade away.

 

Even today: the ancient phantasmagorical culmination is becoming periphery, decay. And to find ourselves, we make it difficult.

An opportunity not to be missed to move forward in a lively and singular way, in tune with an ever new teaching on Love, which takes our step.

It is the burning Call of "the Mount", which centres on passion: precisely on Desire.

No longer a stern call to the 'no' of great appearances - but finally Listening to the Voice in the soul, which amazes (v.48).

Authentic sacredness of the temple.

 

Jesus' teaching in the venerable place is presented by Lk 19:47 as enduring: "he was teaching every day" [Greek text].

Through the Word that does not remain on high but partakes of our humanity (finally opened wide) He also finds His Temple today. 

Dwelling place cleared of old and new hunters.

He only longs for his People - women and men freed from the cave of robbers [Jer 7:11; Lk 19:46] who still try to penetrate our quality of relationship.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (No. 226) we gladly reiterate with Pope Francis: "there is no more room for empty diplomacies, for dissimulations, double talk, cover-ups, good manners that hide the reality" (irritating) of business partners with God.

The rubbish must be eliminated. The stakes are too high and personal.

With what does not correspond, even culturally, socially and spiritually, one no longer bargains.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

Do you still need set times, carved-out places, gestures of atonement and propitiation, or do you feel a living relationship with God?

What is your House of Prayer?

 

 

Churches of service, not supermarkets.

The most important temple of God is our heart

 

"Churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'": Pope Francis did not mince words in re-proposing the relevance of Jesus' gesture of driving the merchants out of the temple. And "vigilance, service and gratuitousness" are the three key words he relaunched in the mass celebrated on Friday 24 November at Santa Marta.

"Both readings of today's liturgy," the Pontiff explained, "speak to us of the temple, indeed of the purification of the temple. Taking his cue from the passage in the first book of Maccabees (4:36-37, 52-59), the Pope pointed out how "after the defeat of the people that Antiochus Epiphanes had sent to paganise the people, Judas Maccabaeus and his brothers wanted to purify the temple, that temple where there had been pagan sacrifices, and restore the spiritual beauty of the temple, the sacredness of the temple". For this "the people were joyful". Indeed, we read in the biblical text that "great was the joy of the people, because the shame of the pagans had been wiped away". Therefore, the Pope added, "the people rediscovered their own law, they rediscovered their own being; the temple became, once again, the place of the encounter with God".

"Jesus does the same when he expels those who were selling in the temple: he purifies the temple," said Francis, referring to the Gospel passage from Luke (19:45-48). In doing so, the Lord makes the temple "as it should be: pure, only for God and for the people who go to pray". But, on our part, "how do we purify the temple of God?". The answer, said the Pope, lies in "three words that can help us understand. First: vigilance; second: service; third: gratuitousness'.

"Vigilance", therefore, is the first word suggested by the Pontiff: "Not only the physical temple, the palaces, the temples are the temples of God: the most important temple of God is our heart, our soul". So much so that, the Pope pointed out, St Paul tells us: 'You are the temple of the Holy Spirit'. Therefore, Francis reiterated, 'within us dwells the Holy Spirit'.

And this is precisely 'why the first word' proposed by Francis is 'vigilance'. Hence some questions for an examination of conscience: "What is happening in my heart? What is happening within me? How do I deal with the Holy Spirit? Is the Holy Spirit one more of the many idols I have within me or do I care for the Holy Spirit? Have I learnt to be vigilant within myself, so that the temple in my heart is only for the Holy Spirit?"

Here, then, is the importance of "purifying the temple, the inner temple, and keeping watch," said the Pope. With an explicit invitation: "Be careful, be vigilant: what happens in your heart? Who is coming, who is going... What are your feelings, your ideas? Do you speak with the Holy Spirit? Do you listen to the Holy Spirit?" It is, therefore, a matter of "watchfulness: be attentive to what is happening in our temple, within us".

The "second word is service," continued the Pontiff. "Jesus," he recalled, "makes us understand that he is present in a special way in the temple of those in need". And "he says it clearly: he is present in the sick, those who suffer, the hungry, the imprisoned, he is present there". For the word "service" Francis also suggested some questions to ask oneself: "Do I care for that temple? Do I take care of the temple with my service? Do I approach it to help, to clothe, to console those in need?"

"St John Chrysostom," Francis noted, "rebuked those who made so many offerings to adorn, to beautify the physical temple and did not take care of those in need: he rebuked and said: 'No, this is not good, first the service then the ornaments'". In short, we are called to "purify the temple that is others". And to do this well, we must ask ourselves: "How do I help to purify that temple?". The answer is simple: "With service, with service to the needy. Jesus himself says that he is present there". And 'he is present there,' the Pope explained, 'and when we approach to give service, to help, we resemble Jesus who is there'.

In this regard, Francis confided that he had 'seen such a beautiful icon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry the cross: looking closely at that icon, the Cyrene had the same face as Jesus'. Therefore, 'if you guard that temple which is the sick, the imprisoned, the needy and the hungry, your heart will also be more like that of Jesus'. Precisely "that is why guarding the temple means service".

"The first word, vigilance," the Pontiff summarised, expresses something that "happens within us". While "the second word" leads us towards "service to the needy: that is purifying the temple". And "the third word that comes to mind," he continued, "reading the Gospel is gratuitousness. In the Gospel passage, Jesus says: "My house shall be a house of prayer. You, on the other hand, have made it a den of thieves'. Precisely with these words of the Lord in mind, said the Pope, "how many times with sadness do we enter a temple - think of a parish, a bishopric - and we do not know whether we are in the house of God or in a supermarket: there are businesses there, even the price list for the sacraments" and "gratuitousness is missing".

But 'God saved us gratuitously, he did not make us pay for anything,' the Pontiff insisted, inviting us to be of help 'so that our churches, our parishes are not a supermarket: that they are a house of prayer, that they are not a den of thieves, but that they are free service'. Of course, the Pope added, someone could object that 'we must have money to maintain the structure and also we must have money to feed the priests, the catechists'. The Pontiff's answer is clear: "You give freely and God will do the rest, God will do what is lacking".

"Guarding the temple," Francis affirmed, "means this: vigilance, service and gratuitousness". First of all "vigilance in the temple of our heart: what happens there, be careful because it is the temple of the Holy Spirit". Then "service to the needy" he repeated, also suggesting reading chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel. Service also "to the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, those in need because Christ is there", always with the certainty that "the needy is the temple of Christ".

Finally, the Pope concluded, the 'third' point is the 'gratuitousness in the service that is given in our churches: churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 25/11/2017]

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

The liturgy today has us celebrate the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, called the "mother and head of all the Churches of the Urbe and Orbe". Actually, this Basilica was the first to be built after the Edict of the Emperor Constantine who, in 313, conceded to Christians the freedom to practice their religion. The same Emperor gave Pope Miltiades the ancient estate of the Laterani family and had the Basilica, the Baptistery and the Patriarchate built for him, the latter being the Bishop of Rome's residence, where Popes resided until the Avignon era. The dedication of the Basilica was celebrated by Pope Silvester in about 324 and the temple was dedicated to the Most Holy Saviour; only after the 6th century were the names of Sts John the Baptist and John the Evangelist added, from which came its common name. This occasion initially only involved the city of Rome; then, from 1565 onwards, it extended to the entire Church of the Roman rite. Hence, honouring the holy building is meant as an expression of love and veneration for the Roman Church "which", as St Ignatius of Antioch affirms, "presides in charity" over the entire Catholic communion (cf. Epistula ad Romanos, 1, 1). 

The Word of God during this Solemnity recalls an essential truth: the stone temple is the symbol of the living Church, the Christian community, that the Apostles Peter and Paul had, in their Letters, already understood as a "spiritual building", constructed by God with the "living stones" that are the Christians, upon the one foundation that is Jesus Christ, who is in turn compared to the "cornerstone" cf. 1 Cor 3: 9-11, 16-17; 1 Pt 2: 4-8; Eph 2: 20-22). "Brethren,... you are God's building", St Paul writes, and he adds, "God's temple is holy, and you are that temple" (1 Cor 3: 9c, 17). The beauty and the harmony of churches, destined to render praise to God, invites us human beings too, though limited and sinful, to convert ourselves to form a "cosmos", a well-ordered construction, in close communion with Jesus, who is the true Holy of Holies. This reaches its culmination in the Eucharistic liturgy, in which the "ecclesia" that is, the community of baptized finds itself again united to listen to the Word of God and nourish itself on the Body and Blood of Christ. Gathered around this twofold table, the Church of living stones builds herself up in truth and in love and is moulded interiorly by the Holy Spirit, transforming herself into what she receives, conforming herself ever more to her Lord Jesus Christ. She herself, if she lives in sincere and fraternal unity, thus becomes a spiritual sacrifice pleasing to God. 

Dear friends, today's feast celebrates an ever current mystery: that God desires to build himself a spiritual temple in the world, a community that adores him in spirit and truth (cf. Jn 4: 23-24). But this occasion reminds us also of the importance of the concrete buildings in which the community gathers together to celebrate God's praises. Every community therefore has the duty to carefully guard their holy structures, which constitute a precious religious and historical patrimony. For this we invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy, so that she might help us to become, like her, a "house of God", living temple of his love. 

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 November 2008]

1. "The temple of God is holy, and you are that temple" (I Cor 3: 17). We listen once again to these words of the apostle Paul in today's solemn liturgy of the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, Cathedral of Rome, Mother of all the churches. 

Every place set aside for divine worship is a sign of that spiritual temple, which is the Church, made up of living stones:  of the faithful united by the one faith, of the participation in the Sacraments and of the bond of charity. The Saints, in particular, are precious stones of that spiritual temple. 

Holiness, fruit of the unceasing work of God's Spirit, shines in the new Blesseds: Juan Nepomuceno Zegrí y Moreno, priest; Valentin Paquay, priest; Luigi Maria Monti, religious; Bonifacia Rodríguez Castro, virgin; Rosalie Rendu, virgin. 

2. The vision of the Sanctuary presented to us in today's liturgy by the prophet Ezechiel describes a stream that flows from the temple carrying life, vigour and hope: "Everything will live where the river goes" (Ez 47: 9). This image expresses God's infinite goodness and his design of salvation which scales the walls of the sacred enclosure and thus becomes the blessing of the entire earth. 

Juan Nepomuceno Zegrí y Moreno, an upright priest of deep Eucharistic piety, understood well how the proclamation of the Gospel needed to become a dynamic reality, able to transform the apostle's life. As a parish priest, he was committed to "visibly providing for all those who, suffering from abandonment, must drink from the bitter chalice and receive nourishment from the bread of tears" (19 June 1859). 

He developed his redemptive spirituality with this purpose, born from intimacy with Christ and directed towards charity for the neediest. He was inspired, through invocation to the Virgin of Mercy, Mother of the Redeemer, to found the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mercy, with the aim of making God's love ever-present where there was "just one suffering to heal, one misfortune to console, one single hope to instil in hearts". Today this Institute, following in the footsteps of its Founder, continues its dedication to witness and promote redemptive charity. 

3. Fr Valentin Paquay is truly a disciple of Christ and a priest according to the heart of God. As an apostle of mercy, he spent long hours in the confessional, with a special gift to place sinners anew on the right path, reminding men and women of the greatness of divine forgiveness. Placing the celebration of the Eucharistic mystery at the centre of his priestly life, he invited the faithful to come frequently to communion with the Bread of Life. 

Like many saints, at a young age Fr Valentin was entrusted to the protection of Our Lady, who was invoked under the title of Cause of our Joy in the Church where he grew up, in Tongres. Following his example, may you be able to serve your brothers and sisters to give them the joy of meeting Christ in truth! 

4. "I saw water flowing out from beneath the threshold of the temple... everything will live where the water goes" (Ez 47: 1, 9). The image of water, which brings everything back to life, illuminates well the life of Bl. Luigi Maria Monti, entirely dedicated to healing the physical and spiritual wounds of the sick and the orphaned. He loved to call them "Christ's poor ones", and he served them, enlivened by a living faith and sustained by intense and continual prayer. In his evangelical commitment, he was constantly inspired by the example of the Holy Virgin and placed the Congregation he founded under the sign of Mary Immaculate. 

How relevant is the message of this new Blessed! For his spiritual sons and for all believers, he is an example of faithfulness to God's call and to the proclamation of the Gospel of charity. He is a model of solidarity towards the needy and of affectionate entrustment to the Immaculate Virgin. 

5. The words of Jesus proclaimed in today's Gospel: "Stop turning my Father's house into a marketplace" (Jn 2: 16), question today's society, often tempted to turn everything into commodity and profit, putting aside values and dignity which do not have a price. Since the human person is the likeness and dwelling place of God, a purification is necessary, so as to protect the person beginning with his or her social condition or work. 

Bl. Bonifacia Rodríguez Castro was dedicated entirely to this activity; she herself was a worker who understood the risks of the social condition of her age. In the simple and protected life of the Holy Family of Nazareth, she discovered a model of the spirituality of work that gives the human person dignity and makes every activity, however little it may seem, an offering to God and a means of sanctification. 

This is the spirit that she wished to instil in working women, starting with the Josephine Association and then with the foundation of the Servants of St Joseph, who continue their work in the world with simplicity, joy and renunciation. 

6. In an era troubled by social conflicts, Rosalie Rendu joyfully became a servant to the poorest, restoring dignity to each one by means of material help, education and the teaching of the Christian mystery, inducing Frédéric Ozanam to place himself at the service of the poor. 

Her charity was inventive. Where did she draw the strength to carry out so many things? From her intense prayer life and the continuous praying of the Rosary, which she never abandoned. Her secret was simple: to see the face of Christ in every man and woman, as a true daughter of St Vincent de Paul and like another Sister of her epoch, St Catherine Labouré. Let us give thanks for the witness of charity that the Vincentian family gives unceasingly to the world! 

7. "He spoke of the temple of his body" (Jn 2: 21). These works evoke the mystery of the death and Resurrection of Christ. All of the Church's members must be conformed to Jesus crucified and risen. 

Mary, Mother of Christ and our Mother, is our strength and guide in this commitment. May the new Blesseds, whom we contemplate today in the glory of Heaven, intercede for us. May it also be granted to us all that we one day find ourselves in Paradise, to experience together the joy of everlasting life. Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, homily 9 November 2003]

Today the liturgy commemorates the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, which is the Cathedral of Rome and which tradition defines as “mother of all Churches of the city and of the world”. The term “mother”, refers not as much to the sacred building of the Basilica, as to the work of the Holy Spirit who is made manifest in this building, bearing fruit through the ministry of the Bishop of Rome, and in all communities which abide in unity with the Church over which he presides.

Each time we celebrate the dedication of a church, an essential truth is recalled: the physical temple made of brick and mortar is a sign of the living Church serving in history, that is to say, of that “spiritual temple”, as the Apostle Peter says, in which Christ himself is the “living stone, rejected by men but in God’s sight chosen and precious” (1 Pt 2:4). In the Gospel from today’s liturgy, Jesus, speaking about the temple, reveals a shocking truth: that the Temple of God is not only a building made of brick and mortar, but is his Body, made of living stone. Through the power of Baptism, every Christian takes part in “God’s building” (1 Cor 3:9), indeed they become the Church of God. The spiritual structure, the Church community of mankind sanctified by the Blood of Christ and by Spirit of the Risen Lord, asks each one of us to be consistent with the gift of the faith and to undertake a journey of Christian witness. And we all know that in life it is not easy to maintain consistency between faith and testimony; but we must carry on and be coherent in our daily life. “This is a Christian!”, not so much in what he says, but in what he does, and the way in which he behaves. This coherence, which gives us life, is a grace of the Holy Spirit which we must ask for. The Church, at the beginning of her life and of her mission in the world, was but a community constituted to confess faith in Jesus Christ the Son of God and Redeemer of Man, a faith which operates through love. They go together! In today’s world too, the Church is called to be the community in the world which, rooted in Christ through Baptism, humbly and courageously professes faith in Him, witnessing to it in love.

The institutional elements, the structures and the pastoral entities must also be directed toward this goal, this essential goal of bearing witness to the faith in love. Love is the very expression of faith and also, faith is the explanation and the foundation of love. Today’s celebration invites us to meditate on the communion of all Churches, that is, of this Christian community. By analogy she spurs us to commit ourselves in order that humanity may overcome the confines of enmity and indifference, to build bridges of understanding and dialogue, to make of the entire world one family of people reconciled among themselves, in fraternal solidarity. The Church herself is a sign and preview of this new humanity, as she lives and, through her witness, spreads the Gospel, the message of hope and reconciliation for all mankind.

Let us invoke the intercession of the Most Holy Mary, that she may help us to become like her, the “House of God”, the living temple of his love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 9 November 2014]

Wise souls, or mad ones

(Mt 25:1-13)

 

The theme is not that of moral vigilance, but punctual: sooner or later all the baptized in Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment does not seem the best: the groom is late, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go to build houses on the sand: at the first trickle is landslide, and everything collapses.

The enthusiasm was there, the harmony with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... maybe not.

It lacks a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivations and lubricates energy, in the impulse to the mission.

It is the outcome of those who seem to have welcomed the Beatitudes at all points, but do not make them their own...

Not for the fact that they do not fulfill well the role - a task - but because they do not relate the listening to the practice (not distracted, exquisitely evangelical).

Powering the torch is promoting life!

And the Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly; it does not set itself up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlations, personal tracks, attention to events and wisdom to correspond.

Here the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to intervene, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralyzed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at the "bad" moments and do not know how to turn them into occasions of awakening, or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline and lack awareness.

Someone has to slow down and recollect himself, rediscover himself and the instinctive vocational lightness, his own infinite part - but avoiding childish strategies.

Others who have already accepted the divine, would need to wake up from numbness, to set in motion the wise and innate light they possess in deep inclinations.

Some need to throw ballasts, become more subtle in hearing and in offering themselves, or less dirigist; others need to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are people who must complicate their stories and then simplify [without dispersing] eventually becoming sharper; others and perhaps more, learning to donate. And so on.

So... better some with light than all in the dark. The actions and risk for wisdom, love and completeness of being build the Person and his dialogue.

One often imagines having provided for own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without elaborating his commitment.

But anyone who neither builds up nor shares life has no part in the Lord (v. 12).

In this way, even the crisis can have an evolutionary sense; in not feeling absolute, in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus, to Freedom and the Feast.

 

The paradigm of this high and strong Call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of Mystery that arouses it.

 

 

To internalize and live the message:

 

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding Invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of waiting nothing any longer?

 

 

[32nd Sunday in O.T. (year A), November 8, 2026]

Distraction in the waiting room, or a crisis with an evolutionary sense

(Mt 25:1-13)

 

The theme is not one of moral vigilance, but timely: sooner or later all those baptised into Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment doesn't look the best: the groom is delayed, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and the others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go out to build houses on the sand: at the first flood everything collapses.

Enthusiasm is there, attunement with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... perhaps not.

What is missing is a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivation and lubricates energy, in the impulse to mission.

This is the outcome of those who seem to have accepted the Beatitudes in full, but do not make them their own....

Not because they do not fulfil the role well - a task - but because they do not relate listening to the non-distracted, exquisitely evangelical practice.

To feed the torch is to promote life!

But how can we focus on it and not obfuscate it, or rather unblock it, and not allow ourselves to be influenced by the trappings, pull it out of the drawer; orient it well - in local and universal favour, one's own, and that of all?

The Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly. It is not set up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlation, without personal tracks, without attention to events and the ability to correspond.

In short: the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

As in a Love relationship, each one needs moment by moment a new personal balance - enhanced in fusion.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to act, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralysed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at "no" moments and do not know how to transform them into opportunities for awakening; or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline, and lack awareness.

Some must slow down and collect themselves, rediscover themselves and their instinctive vocational lightness, their infinite part - but avoiding puerile strategies.

Others, who have already embraced the divine, would need to awaken from their torpor, to set in motion the wise, innate light they possess in their deepest inclinations.

Some need to shed ballast, to become more subtle in their hearing and presentation, or less dirigiste; others, to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are some who cannot but complicate their lives, and then simplify [without dispersing], eventually becoming sharper; others, and perhaps more, learn to give. And so on.

So. to harmonise and invigorate the natural, passionate and vocational organism, better some with light than all in the dark - stuck in the waiting room, lost forever.

Jesus does not favour those slumbering in an empty spirituality without uniqueness - that is, those gripped by the instinct of self-protection. He does not seek first his own resources, what he already finds within himself; but what he obtains outside, or is given on demand, begged by others.

The unusual - perhaps undue - and personal listening, as well as the enterprising actions, the risk for wisdom, love, the stimulus to the completeness of being, build the Persona and its true dialogue.

Conformities do not produce breakthroughs; they persist in the torpid outline. 

The indistinct crowd without conviviality of differences - if mediocre, lacking in exploratory peaks, exceptions - pushes every unrepeatable Call to the bench.

Often one imagines one has made one's own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without fully elaborating the commitment. Perhaps for fear of risk or unforeseen hardship.

Then some zealous mannerists also assume prone attitudes of [formerly called] 'papist' appearance and [fake] orthodoxy - or vice versa, sophisticated, à la page.

Disembodied abstractions, which the Bridegroom is not interested in.

 

He who does not even work on himself, obviously according to the character of his own vocational inclinations, neither edifies nor communicates life.

He neither enriches nor cheers up even a cursory existence, of the weary times of waiting. Finally, it has nothing to do with God (v.12).

 

The paradigm of this high and strong call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of the Mystery that arouses it.

It is an appeal out of time for the Church itself, so that it does not settle for schemes, models, standard recipes, or to put things in place in a habitual way.

Nor does it get stuck in sick relationships, in nomenclatures of qualunquist support; resounding or museum-like. And thus find themselves outside the Feast, disoriented, overwhelmed; without even having activated themselves, humanising.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti recalls in no.33 [quoting a homily by Pope Francis in Skopje]:

"We fed ourselves with dreams of splendour and greatness and ended up eating distraction [losing] the taste and flavour of reality".

But even the crisis can have an evolutionary meaning: in accepting to be wrong, in becoming aware of imperfections.

In not feeling absolute; in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus towards Freedom and Celebration.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of not waiting any longer?

 

 

In order not to relapse

 

"The biblical readings of today's liturgy [...] invite us to prolong our reflection on eternal life [...]. On this point there is a clear difference between those who believe and those who do not believe, or, one might equally say, between those who hope and those who do not hope. In fact, St Paul writes to the Thessalonians: "We do not want to leave you in ignorance about those who have died, so that you may not be sad like the others who have no hope" ( 1 Thess 4:13). Faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ also marks a decisive watershed in this area. St Paul again reminds the Christians of Ephesus that, before accepting the Good News, they were "without hope and without God in the world" ( Eph 2:12). In fact, the religion of the Greeks, the pagan cults and myths, were unable to shed light on the mystery of death, so much so that an ancient inscription read: 'In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus', which means: 'Into nothingness from nothingness how soon we fall back'. If we remove God, if we remove Christ, the world falls back into emptiness and darkness. And this is also reflected in the expressions of contemporary nihilism, an often unconscious nihilism that unfortunately infects so many young people.

Today's Gospel is a famous parable about ten girls invited to a wedding feast, a symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven, of eternal life (Mt 25:1-13). It is a happy image, with which, however, Jesus teaches a truth that challenges us; in fact, of those ten girls: five enter the feast, because, when the bridegroom arrives, they have the oil to light their lamps; while the other five remain outside, because, foolish, they did not bring the oil. What does this 'oil', indispensable to be admitted to the wedding feast, represent? St Augustine (cf. Sermons 93:4) and other ancient authors read in it a symbol of love, which cannot be bought, but is received as a gift, kept in one's heart and practised in one's works. True wisdom is to take advantage of mortal life to perform works of mercy, because, after death, this will no longer be possible. When we are awakened for the last judgement, this will be on the basis of the love practised in earthly life (cf. Mt 25:31-46). And this love is Christ's gift, poured into us by the Holy Spirit. Whoever believes in God-Love carries within him an invincible hope, like a lamp with which to cross the night beyond death, and reach the great feast of life".

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 6 November 2011]