The Transfiguration of the Lord (year A)  [6 August 2026]

 

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Daniel (7:9–10, 13–14) 

The text recounts a vision of the prophet Daniel, written during the persecution of the Jews by Antiochus IV Epiphanes in the 2nd century BC. Its purpose is to encourage and console the suffering people. Daniel first sees God, depicted as an ‘Ancient of Days’ seated on a throne of fire, surrounded by millions of servants. It is an image of justice and victory: God is about to judge the persecutors and bring justice to the faithful. Next, the ‘Son of Man’ appears; he is brought before God on the clouds of heaven and receives power, glory and an eternal kingdom. It resembles a scene of a messianic coronation.

Who is the Son of Man? The explanation given in the text of Daniel itself is surprising: the Son of Man does not initially represent a single person, but the ‘people of the saints of the Most High’, that is, Israel faithful to God, especially that small group which remains faithful during persecution. The message is therefore clear: today you are oppressed, but God will grant you victory and his Kingdom will be eternal. After their deliverance from persecution, many Jews continued to interpret this prophecy as referring to the future. Some began to await not an individual Messiah, but a collective Messiah: the faithful people of Israel, called precisely the ‘Son of Man’. And here is the new insight brought by Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth takes up the title ‘Son of Man’, but gives it a deeper meaning: it does not simply refer to ‘a man’, but to the whole of humanity; Jesus applies it to himself more than eighty times in the Gospels; he unites two aspects that were separate in Daniel: glory and suffering. For Jesus, the Son of Man is not merely the glorious King who receives the Kingdom, but also the one who suffers, is rejected and dies before entering into glory. After the Resurrection, the disciples realise that Jesus is both man and God. He is the head of a new humanity, and all those united to him form one body. Therefore, Daniel’s prophecy is fully fulfilled in Christ and in his people: believers are called to share in his kingship and his glory.

This, then, is the central message: God created humanity to share in his dignity and his Kingdom. Suffering and persecution do not have the final say: the ultimate destiny of the faithful is to share in God’s victory and his eternal kingdom.

 

Responsorial Psalm (96/97) 

A constant struggle against idolatry: this could be the commentary on Psalm 96/97 (‘The Lord reigns’) to highlight a fundamental theme of the Bible: the constant struggle against idolatry and the affirmation that there is only one God.

When the psalm proclaims: ‘The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice’, it affirms that God is the one true sovereign of the universe. The expressions: ‘You reign above all gods; let all gods bow down before him’, do not mean that there are other inferior gods, but that all false deities and idols are nothing in the face of the one God of Israel.

In the Jewish faith, the fundamental principle is: ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is the one and only Lord.’ Israel always lived in close contact with polytheistic peoples and was often tempted to adopt their cults. For this reason, the prophets denounced the people’s unfaithfulness, comparing it to that of a wife who betrays her husband. However, alongside their rebuke, they always proclaimed God’s forgiveness and mercy. The text recalls that the first chapter of the Book of Genesis was written in contrast to the religious beliefs of Babylon. Whilst Babylonian myths spoke of many gods fighting amongst themselves and of humanity created to be slaves, the Bible affirms that: there is only one God;  creation is good; man and woman are created in the image of God; human beings are called to rule over creation and not to be its slaves. Even the sun and the moon are not named, to prevent them from being worshipped as deities: they are simply ‘luminaries’ in the service of life. God, Lord of the universe, and the psalm describes God’s manifestation with majestic imagery: fire, lightning, clouds, earthquakes, mountains melting like wax. These images recall Moses’ theophany on Mount Sinai and serve to demonstrate divine power and majesty. A universal message of joy emerges, and the expression ‘The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice’

means that God’s kingdom concerns not only Israel, but all humanity.

Indeed, the Bible always combines two ideas: the election of Israel and the salvation intended for all peoples. God’s plan is universal and oriented towards joy, justice and peace. Finally, the psalm invites us to believe that God guides history towards a future of peace and happiness for all. Even when the world seems dominated by wars, violence and injustice, the believer is called to maintain hope and to work together so that God’s plan may be realised. The commentary’s final observation is very practical: peace and joy are possible, but we must truly desire them. In other words, it is not enough simply to wait for God to intervene: we must also commit ourselves personally to building a more just and fraternal world.

 

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (1:16–19)

The central theme of this passage could be summarised as follows: ‘Remain steadfast in the faith and beware of false prophets’, which may be regarded as Peter’s spiritual testament. The Second Letter of Peter resembles a farewell address: as he is about to depart, the one who is leaving recalls the fundamental truths that have inspired him and offers guidance for the future to those who have gathered around his testimony.  The verses presented here serve as an introduction to the entire letter and summarise its main themes: 1) remain steadfast in your faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God; 2) beware of false prophets. All this without losing sight of the horizon of faith: the hope of Christ’s return. Above all: remain steadfast in your faith in Jesus, the Son of God.  At the time of Jesus’ birth, it would never have occurred to anyone that God could have a Son; the one God was solitary. When John the Baptist heard the voice from heaven designating Jesus as the Son, he certainly interpreted it as ‘Messiah’; for, traditionally, the king of Israel received the title ‘Son of God’ on the day of his coronation, with the words ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you’ (Ps 2:7). For Jewish believers, to call oneself the Son of God was a lie, a claim to authority, or even blasphemy. It was one of the reasons for Jesus’ condemnation (Mark 14:64). Gradually, much later, as they meditated on the mystery of Christ in the light of the Resurrection, the apostles discovered this unexpected truth: Jesus is truly the Son of God; he is God. The event of the Transfiguration now appears in full light: Christ ‘received honour and glory from God the Father; a voice came to him from the majestic glory: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”’  

Now, throughout the Old Testament, glory is the prerogative of God: for example, ‘Give to the Lord the glory due to his name’ (Ps 28/29:2) . Yet, according to Matthew and Mark, the voice from heaven at the Transfiguration said nothing different from what it said at the Baptism; what changes is precisely the glory that envelops Jesus at the Transfiguration: he is alone on the mountain, surrounded only by the two greatest figures of the Old Testament; at the Baptism he was immersed in the crowd, mingled with the people of sinners. It is the same Jesus whom the disciples have come to know little by little—the Son of Man, certainly, but also the Son of God. Moreover, this faith does not betray their previous faith. For the disciples, this renewed faith is not a betrayal of their past faith: none of them thinks they have changed religion by recognising in Jesus the Messiah so long awaited by his people. On the contrary, by re-reading the Scriptures, they discover that Jesus is precisely the one whom they foretold.  

Hence Peter’s words: ‘Thus we have confirmation of the prophetic word’, and his advice to the readers: ‘You would do well to pay close attention to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place.’ A beautiful image: in the darkness of humanity awaiting its Saviour, the light of the prophets is already shining. From now on, Christians must always remember this Word that foretold Jesus. Another important point: beware of false prophets. If Peter speaks in this way, it is because his fear was not unfounded, and many passages in the New Testament express the same concern. For example, 

we read in the Gospel of Matthew: ‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. ‘You will recognise them by their fruits’ (7:15–16).  The same issue recurs in John’s letters: ‘Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world’ (1 John 4:1).  And Paul also speaks of this: “The Spirit plainly states that in the last days some will fall away from the faith, following deceiving spirits and the teachings of demons” (1 Tim 4:1); “The time will come when people will no longer endure sound teaching, but, having an itch to hear something, they will gather around themselves a multitude of teachers… and turn to myths” (2 Tim 4:3–4).  Faced with these false prophets stand the authentic witnesses, those who have known Jesus of Nazareth and who alone have the right to speak. This concern for the authenticity of witness is a constant theme among the first apostles, and in Peter in particular. Hence the conditions for choosing Judas’s replacement (cf. Acts 1:21–22). Hence, too, Peter’s insistence on his presence at the Transfiguration: “We were eyewitnesses of his majesty… We ourselves heard this voice coming from heaven whilst we were with him on the holy mountain”.  It is because they were witnesses to the coming of the Son of God amongst men that his apostles can now, with full confidence, await his coming at the end of time ‘until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts’ (2 Peter 1:19).

 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (17:1–9)

Two essential points emerge from this text: the choice of witnesses and the Mount of the Transfiguration: Jesus took Peter, James and his brother John with him: once again we are faced with the mystery of God’s choices. Shortly before, at Caesarea, Jesus had said to Peter: ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it’ (Mt 16:18). But Peter, entrusted with this crucial mission, is not alone with Jesus: he is accompanied by the two brothers, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. ‘And he led them aside to a high mountain’: on a high mountain, Moses had received the revelation of the God of the Covenant and had been given the tablets of the Law—that law which was to gradually teach the people of the Covenant to live in the love of God and of their brothers and sisters. On that same mountain, Elijah had received the revelation of the God of tenderness in the gentle breeze… Moses and Elijah, the two pillars of the Old Testament. On the high mountain of the Transfiguration, Peter, James and John—the pillars of the Church—receive the revelation of the God of tenderness incarnate in Jesus: ‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ And this revelation is given to strengthen their faith before the storm of the Passion. Peter would later write: ‘We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty’ (2 Peter 1:16–18).  ‘Let us make three tents’: this remark by Peter suggests that the episode of the Transfiguration took place during the Feast of Tabernacles, or at least within the atmosphere of the feast celebrated in remembrance of the journey through the desert during the Exodus and of the Covenant made with God. During the feast, many psalms celebrated the messianic promises and implored God to hasten his coming. On the Mount of the Transfiguration, the three apostles suddenly find themselves faced with this revelation of the mystery of Jesus: it is hardly surprising that they are seized by the fear that grips every person in the presence of the holy God. Nor is it surprising that Jesus lifts their spirits and reassures them: the Old Testament had already revealed to the people of the Covenant that the Most Holy God is the God who is very close to humankind, and that there is no cause for fear. But this revelation of the mystery of the Messiah, in all its aspects, is not yet within everyone’s grasp; Jesus commands them not to tell anyone for the time being, until the Son of Man has risen from the dead. By uttering these words, Jesus confirms the revelation the three disciples have just received: he is truly the Messiah whom the prophet Daniel saw in the likeness of a man, coming on the clouds of heaven (cf. Dan 7:13–14). It should be remembered that Daniel himself presents the Son of Man not as a solitary individual, but as a people, whom he calls the people of the saints of the Most High. The fulfilment is even more beautiful than the promise: in Jesus, the God-Man, it is the whole of humanity that will receive this eternal kingship and be eternally transfigured. But Jesus was right to say: ‘Tell no one anything before the Resurrection…’ Only after Jesus’ resurrection will the apostles be able to bear witness to it.

 

Note: The Greek text begins with ‘Six days later’: this is understood to mean ‘six days after Yom Kippur’, the Day of Atonement. It invites us to imagine a connection with the Feast of Tabernacles, hence Peter’s suggestion: ‘Let us make three tents here.’ Furthermore, why are Moses and Elijah present? The very same two who received the revelation of the Father on Mount Sinai now receive the revelation of the Son here. The mosaic in the Basilica of the Transfiguration at St Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai confirms this interpretation: Moses is depicted barefoot, his sandals untied beside him, as he was before the burning bush (cf. Ex 3).

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 15:21-28)

 

Religious law prevented dealing with foreign people and other ethnicities, borders, or culture.

At the beginning, Jesus [that is: He in the first communities, his Mystical Body] seems not to want to occupy himself with it (v.26).

But after helping the crowds and his own intimates to emancipate themselves from the prison of purity norms (vv.10-20), the young Rabbi himself had emerged from the conformist ways of experiencing God.

He makes an Exodus even from national and race territories that at that time were seizing the vital sap of the souls - thus flying over the "sacred" preconceptions.

To make us grow in Faith, Christ promotes the most varied existence. In this way, outside the standard myopia, He can find astounding adherences.

Faith: New Principle, which does not alienate us from ourselves. And crumbles any illusion of exclusivity.

 

The singular initiatives of the Son are born on the basis of the all-personal experience of the divine, of a Father who bestows unconditionally.

Provident, and unequal from the stingy God of ancient religions: sovereign all discordant from creatures, alien, predatory, and incomprehensibly addicted to habit.

With an unusual stunt, the young Rabbi tries to open the Judaizing mentality, overcoming borders.

Even the dialogue with a woman not of his people was a "novelty" alien to the mentality of the time’s crowds. Initiative foreign even to the conceptions of the first two generations of believers; marked by a creed still blocked and mixed with idols.

But there was a whole people of strangers [the mestizo «Woman» and her spiritual ‘offspring’] who felt they had no future... and this called into question the many aprioriisms of the time.

In short, even the church of Mt had not fully grasped the meaning of the «bread of the sons» - all available, for it to be “recognized”.

 

Because of rivalry, ancient peoples used to call foreigners with the contemptuous nickname of «dog»: synonymous with impudence, meanness and ignoble baseness.

The Lord's very harsh phrase (v.26) reflects a comparison coming from poor areas and from family life, where once there were plenty of pets and youth.

There was also a difference between ‘children’ generated by listening to the Word of God and those who adjusted themselves “by scent”. But although no one denied sustenance to the «sons» to give it to the «dogs» around them - the latter had at least the right of crumbs fallen on the ground.

For differents and far - even bad-considered - it is not a problem to resort to Jesus in an instinctive way; indeed, even today they would be satisfied with the shatters.

[Unfortunately, not infrequently strangers and difforms are hungrier of the real Manna from Heaven].

 

Christian community should not lack the nourishment of the body and the food of wisdom for everyone (Mt 14:20-21).

Faith has no nationality, and it is the only immediate language and relationship valid for communication between God and woman and man.

Christ is a sapiential feeds for a free circulation; not a sign to be hindered and kept closed.

To break the Bread is to participate our existence at root; what we have and are. Metre of what we proclaim, believe and practice.

 

 

[Wednesday 18th wk. in O.T.  August 5, 2026]

Mt 15:21-28 (21-37)

 

Jesus discovered the will of the Father in the events of life. The same was true for the growth of awareness of the first communities, which carried no small prejudices, at least until the third generation of believers (inclusive) - as witnessed by the Synoptics.

Religious law prevented dealing with foreigners and people of other ethnicities, borders or cultures. At first, Jesus [i.e.: He in the first communities, His Mystical Body] seems not to want to deal with them (v.26).

But after helping the crowds and his own to emancipate themselves from the prison of the norms of purity (vv.10-20) Christ breaks out of conformist ways of experiencing God.

He even exoduses himself from national and racial territories that then sequester the life-bloods - thus overcoming sacred preconceptions.

 

The Son's singular initiatives arise on the basis of a wholly personal experience of the divine, of a Father munificent in bestowing without conditions. 

Provident and unequal from the stingy God of religions: the latter discordant from creatures, alien, and (incomprehensibly) habitual.

The Lord himself helps us in his story to experience the transcendent in even summary life. Thus, to get out of the contrived doctrinal ways that cage existence [territory, customs, ideology, memberships of various kinds - even 'internal'].

With an unusual gimmick, the young Rabbi tries to open up the Judaizing mentality, crossing borders.

The intent is to make us develop his own Faith. It promoted diverse existence, and outside of traditional myopia could thus find astounding adherences.

No boundary fences, no obstacles ... can contain our will to live: we want to feed not on pride (or resistance) but on love at risk, not debased - and express ourselves completely.

Even dialogue with a woman not of his people was a 'thought' alien to the mentality of the crowds of the time - alien even to the conceptions of the first two generations of believers, in this respect still entrenched and mixed with idols.

But there was a whole people of strangers [the mestizo 'woman' and her spiritual 'descendants'] who felt they had no future. And this challenged the many apriorisms of the time.

In short, even the church of Mt had not fully grasped the meaning of the 'bread of the sons' - all available to be 'recognised'.

 

Because of atavistic rivalries, ancient peoples used to call foreigners by the derogatory appellation 'dog', synonymous with impudence, meanness and ignoble baseness.

They were widespread misgivings about the sense of human brotherhood - from primitive vision [and not only, in the age of access].

The Lord's harsh sentence (v.26) reflects a comparison from poor areas and family life, where pets and youth once abounded.

There was still a difference between 'children' generated by hearing the Word of God and those who adjusted 'by scent'.

But although no one denied sustenance to the 'children' in order to give it to the 'dogs' around - the latter at least had the right to the crumbs that fell on the ground.

In fact, the text speaks of 'little dogs' [kynaría-kynaríois] as pets loved by the very young and who easily fed them leftovers during meals.

In a certain sense, they belonged to 'the house'.

 

For the different and distant - even the misunderstood - it is not a problem to resort to Jesus instinctively; on the contrary, they would be content with the scraps.

According to this, the community of the sons should not lack bodily nourishment and wisdom food for anyone (Matt 14:20-21).

However, the old-timers who considered themselves family members of entitlement and asserted registry rights, sulked and in the assemblies pretended not to allow everyone to partake of the communion, the Eucharistic grains, the gifts of the festive kingdom.

But thanks to the appeal of the Gospels [quite different from the exaggerated imperial or legionary 'evangelical' proclamations] the dominion of evil was coming to an end (v.28).

According to Matthew, there should be no obsession, chain or preconception that can take away our orientation of progress and energy, so that with extreme freedom we are enabled to work and open ourselves to the needs of others, even pagans (Mt 14:22a).

 

So in the Judeo-Christian fraternities of Galilee and Syria, a debate arises about the conditions of community membership.

What is the position of converts from paganism? Do they have the right to participate in the breaking of the Bread without prior doctrine-discipline? Is there or is there not a break with the observant tradition?

Mt emphasises that we have no pre-emption: the principle of universal salvation is the attitude of Faith; not a right.

The community of the baptised is not allowed to live on rent. The Gospel is open, overriding the biblical priority of the chosen people.

The reason for any exception is sensitive love, which has the freedom to yield, which becomes the only principle of membership.

 

The condition of membership in the new people of God is Faith in the heart and not in the blood or in the head, nor in the discipline that distances us from ourselves, God and others.

Faith: a new principle, which shatters every illusion of exclusivity.

 

With the Father, in the Son, it is no longer a matter of mortifying oneself, depending, striving and struggling, in order to stand before one another.

Legal purity is inadequate (vv.1-20), indeed now it is the person even of disconcerting origins - previously an outsider - who emerges 'victorious' from the fight with the Lord.

Spousal entrustment is appreciable everywhere, by anyone: foundational Eros gushing from every soul, and not bound to repertoires. It overcomes any particularism.

Of course, it has its criteria - but they are essential: transparency, freshness, tension towards unity, overcoming conditions and taboos; value of the person; secret empathy of energies.

 

The Gospel passage traces a whole path of adherence to Christ.

Those who are far away can approach and even start from the popular - inconvenient - idea that Jesus is the expected 'Son of David' (v.22): a military commander and ruler who was supposed to seize power, subjugate the nations, ensure the golden age, fulfil the prescriptions of the Law himself as if he were a Model, and impose their observance on all.

The starting point of the journey may be a miserable glimmer, a beginning that perhaps does not promise much. In fact, in this specific case, it is decidedly confusing: the Master does not answer (v.23).

The title attributed to Him has nothing to do with God, nor does it concern the authentic Firstborn. He is not a powerful Messiah - a predatory, homologated image - but a servant.

It makes no sense even to ask Him for "Mercy" (v.22)! Indeed - let's face it - despite the superficial ritual habits we have, here Christ seems quite angry (v.23).

This is not the healthy relationship with the Lord: He does not chastise or enjoy being begged by the needy.

Rather, He educates as He does a friend, brother or parent; and He does not grant graces by lottery, or miracles by sympathy and protection, or favours by territory - like pagan gods.

That image is totally deviant, but it is a bogus figure that comes out of the very "insiders" (vv.23-24), who would have nothing to object to (v.23).

Indeed, their own catechesis is the source of it: the title 'son of David' sounds strange, on the lips of a pagan.

 

Even today, this homologising paternalistic idea - of inculcated guilt - tends to drive away those who seek an amiable companion.

The priority for 'Israel' is acknowledged by Jesus because it is precisely the eldest sons who must be converted to a new Face of the first God of Sinai - still assessed as Lawgiver and Judge, instead of Creator and Redeemer of our intelligence and freedom.

[Albeit in a good-natured way, they unfortunately continue to spread it, as a sullen notary, since pre-catechism].

Jesus distances himself from those who make claims and at the same time divert the souls of the needy who seek him.

Then, in spiritual terms, no one can boast a right to anything: the truly sacred Gifts do not derive from any selective election relationship, nor even clientelistic [of the buying and selling kind].

 

So, to become intimate with Christ... can one be content with the Eucharistic 'crumbs' - i.e. 'minimal salvation'?

Can one be satisfied with the mere crumbs that fall from the table of the supponent closed in small schemes (vv.26-27)?

Certainly, because it is Faith that saves (v.28), not a grand gesture or long practice in the disciplines of the arcane - nor a code of purity.

The authentic Lord only says:

"Woman, great is your Faith! Do as thou wilt with me" (v.28) - that is, go forth to the joy of a full life, transmissible to an "offspring" not destined for torment or premature death.

And without the judgement of others, the one with the usual deceitful tares of inadequacy, on your back.

Thanks to Him we are not introduced into a summary religious practice, but into a Relationship that is chiselled over time (vv.22-28).

 

How to orient oneself?

Instead of the narrow Law, it is the Gospel that fully empowers us.

As if we were "little dogs" (vv.26-27) that seek life and nourishment, instinctively proceeding [by "sniffing"] along unexplored paths. And that according to character, inclination, Calling by Name, appeal to other secret forces.

In short, all men - although still far from an explicit adherence of faith - are inhabited by this knowledge that is at once personal and primordial, that gives immediate and infallible direction.

So in simplicity will we too, to find the Way.For Faith has no nationality, and is the only valid language-relation-trajectory for communication between God and woman and man.

It is universal; it crosses time, denominational and even religious borders.

 

Commenting on the Tao Te Ching (LVIII), Master Wang Pi states:

"He who rules well has no form or name, he does not initiate administrations. The various categories divide and separate, that is why the people are fragmented'.

Master Ho-shang Kung adds:

'When the ruler is liberal, the people are united in wealth and satiety: people love each other and get along well'.

 

Today it is about sharing the minutiae and fragments of the 'more' we in the West inherited from past generations.

A very instructive and affluent 'more'; lavishly bestowed, yet received without 'anything too much' [ne quid nimis] nor much merit or risk (as 'good Christians...').

And respecting in everything the nomenclature of the veterans, of the cordate and the powerful - always disinclined to real coexistence.

Christ, on the other hand, is sapiential food for free circulation; not impeded food, to be kept locked in tabernacles.

His virtue is now understood only outside the sacristies - from far and wide (vv.21-22) - where even a minuet of bread makes one trust and rise, in sharing.

To break the Eucharist as source and summit is to proclaim it as a Gift not to be withheld or kept intact, but rather to be exposed and distributed without moralising.

To share that Food is to participate in the root of existence, what we have and are; the yardstick of what we proclaim, believe and practise.

 

Sadly, not infrequently the strangers and dissimilar are hungrier for the true Manna from Heaven.

Saturated to the point of nausea - and perhaps still unable to comprehend its meaning - why live the shared Nourishment [perhaps with little regard for its meaning] as a problem and fear?

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

If not of 'your people', do you at least want to talk to them - even if veterans, inner clubs and regulars forbid it?

Don't you think the synodal path is a good opportunity to review abstract positions?

Do you know of any ecclesial parishes that do not give outsiders a chance?

Do you know people hurt by exclusions? What do you do, silence-assent?

 

 

Multiplication by Division, in itinerancy

 

The simple (Eucharistic) Mystery

(Mt 15:29-37)

 

"Man is the limit-being who has no limit" (Fratelli Tutti n.150).

In our hearts we have a great desire for fulfilment and Happiness. The Father has put it there, He Himself satisfies it - but He wants us associated with His work - inside and outside of us.

The Son reflects God's plan in his compassion for the crowds in need of everything (vv.30.32) and - despite the plethora of teachers and experts - lacking any authentic teaching [cf. Mt 9:36. 14:14].

His solution is very different from that of all "spiritual" guides, because he does not overlook us with an indirect paternalism [cf. Mt 14:16] that would dry tears, heal wounds, erase humiliations.

It invites us to make use of what we are and have, even though it may seem ridiculous. But it teaches in an absolutely clear way that by shifting energies, prodigious results are achieved.

This is how we respond in Christ to the world's great problems: by recovering the condition of the man viator - a being of passage, his essential mark - and by sharing goods; not letting everyone make do [cf. Mt 14:15].

Our real nakedness, the vicissitudes and the experience of our many brothers and sisters, who are different, are resources not to be evaluated with distrust, "as dangerous competitors or enemies" of our fulfilment (FT n.151).

Not only will the little we bring be enough to satiate us: it will advance for others and with identical fullness of truth, human, epochal [vv.34.37: the passage insists on the Semitic symbolism of the number "seven"].

 

In Mt Jesus is the new Moses who ascends 'the mountain' of authentic relationships - to inaugurate an alternative Time, which marks true history.

People no longer stay at the bottom of the valley waiting: they gather around Him, coming as they are, with the burden of so many different needs.

The new people of God are not a settled crowd, of the elect, chosen and pure.

Each one brings with him his own path, his own troubles and problems, which the Lord heals - healing not with a solution from above or from without.

In short: another world is possible, but through breaking one's own (even miserable) bread.

A wise, uninterrupted, effective solution, if one brings it out from within, on the way and standing in the middle - not in front, not at the head, not on top (v.36).

 

The place of God's revelation was to be the place of lightning, on a "mountain" smoking like a furnace (Ex 19:18)... but finally even Elijah's violent zeal had to recant (1 Kings 19:12).Even to the pagans, the Son reveals a Father who does not simply erase infirmities: he makes them understood as a place that is preparing a personal development, and that of the Community.

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

In Jesus - distributed Bread - an unusual fullness of times is manifested, apparently nebulous and fragile, but real and capable of restarting people and relationships.

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

 

The Incarnation reweaves our hearts, in dignity and promotion; it truly unfolds, because it not only drags obstacles away, but rests on them.

And it does not erase them at all: thus it overpowers them, but transmutes - posing new life.

Lymph that draws juice and sprouts Flowers from the one muddy, fertile soil, and communicates them.

Solidarity to which all are invited, not just those deemed to be in a state of perfection and compactness.

 

Our shortcomings make us attentive, and unique. They are not to be despised, but taken up, placed in the Son's hands and energised (v.36).

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

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

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

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

If a shortcoming is found here too, it will be to teach us to be present in the world according to (perhaps) other and further directions, or to bring out mission and creative maturity - not to remain fixated on partiality and minutiae.

 

The allusion to the seven loaves (multiplied because divided) supports the quotations on the mouldable magma of biblical icons.

Here Moses and Elijah on "the Mount": figures from the five Books of the Pentateuch (the First Foods), plus the two sections of Prophets and Writings.

All together "seven loaves": fullness of food and wisdom for the soul, called to proceed beyond the surrounding hedgerows, breaking the banks of the subjugated mentality.

It is the basic nourishment of the human-divine spirit, to which, however, is added a young and fresh companion food, which precisely involves us (v.34).

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

Complete food: basic food and 'companion' - historical and ideal, in code and in deed.

Here we become in Christ as an actualised and propulsive corpus of sensitive witnesses (and Scriptures!).

Certainly reduced, not yet affirmed - and lacking in heroic phenomena, but emphatically sapiential and practical.

Announcers and sharers, without resounding proclamations of self-sufficiency.

Never enclosed within archaic fences: always in fieri - therefore able to perceive unknown tracks.

 

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

We are children: like few and small fish (v.34), but not wallowing in competitions that make life toxic.

On the contrary: called in the first person to write a singular, empathic and sacred Word-event.

Infants in the Lord, we swim in this different Water. Sometimes perhaps outwardly veiled or muddy and murky....

Finally made transparent if only because it is yielding, compassionate (v.32) and benevolent.

The old exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare the risk of Faith (v.33) would not have helped us to assimilate the proposal of the Jesus Messiah, Son of God, Saviour - acrostic of the Greek word Ichtys [fish].

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

 

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

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

In Mark (7:31-37) the prodigy is placed after the opening of the "senses". Here after the healings by the Lake of Galilee (vv.29-31).

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

In the face of the destitution of the many - caused by the greed of the few - the attitude of the authentic Church does not take pleasure in emblems and fervour, nor in partial calls to distinguish itself in almsgiving.

The breaking of the Bread takes over from the Manna dropped from above in the desert (Mt 15:33) and involves its distribution - not only in special situations.

There is no settling, in multiplying life for all.

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

 

If Eucharistic participation does not only provoke punctual alms-giving, external pietism and mannerly welfarism, here is the result:

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

 

We note that it had not even occurred to the disciples that the solution might come from the people themselves and their spirit.

Not just from the paternalism of the leaders, or from some individual benefactor.

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

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

The only therapy is 'to break', 'to give', 'to offer' (v.36). And everyone is involved, no one privileged.

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

The 'belonging' astound.

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

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

 

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

 

Saved life comes to us by incorporation.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

This […] Gospel passage begins by indicating the district to which Jesus was going: Tyre and Sidon, to the north-west of Galilee, a pagan land. And it was here that he met a Canaanite woman who spoke to him, asking him to heal her daughter who was possessed by a demon (cf. Mt 15:22).

In her supplication we can already discern the beginning of a journey of faith, which in her conversation with the divine Teacher grows and becomes stronger.

The woman was not afraid to cry to Jesus “Have mercy on me”, an expression that recurs in the Psalms (cf. 50:1), she calls him “Lord” and “Son of David” (cf. Mt 15:22), thus showing a firm hope of being heard. What was the Lord’s attitude to this cry of anguish from a pagan woman?

Jesus’ silence may seem disconcerting, to the point that it prompted the disciples to intervene, but it was not a question of insensitivity to this woman’s sorrow. St Augustine rightly commented: “Christ showed himself indifferent to her, not in order to refuse her his mercy but rather to inflame her desire for it” (Sermo 77, 1: PL 38, 483).

The apparent aloofness of Jesus who said: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (v. 24), did not discourage the Canaanite woman who persisted: “Lord, help me” (v. 25). And she did not even desist when she received an answer that would seem to have extinguished any hope: “it is not fair to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (v. 26). She had no wish to take anything from anyone; in her simplicity and humility a little was enough for her, crumbs sufficed, no more than a look, a kind word from the Son of God. And Jesus was struck with admiration for an answer of such great faith and said to her: “Be it done for you as you desire” (v. 28).

Dear friends, we too are called to grow in faith, to open ourselves in order to welcome God’s gift freely, to have trust and also to cry to Jesus “give us faith, help us to find the way!”. This is the way that Jesus made his disciples take, as well as the Canaanite woman and men and women of every epoch and nation and each one of us.

Faith opens us to knowing and welcoming the real identity of Jesus, his newness and oneness, his word, as a source of life, in order to live a personal relationship with him. Knowledge of the faith grows, it grows with the desire to find the way and in the end it is a gift of God who does not reveal himself to us as an abstract thing without a face or a name, because faith responds to a Person who wants to enter into a relationship of deep love with us and to involve our whole life.

For this reason our heart must undergo the experience of conversion every day, every day it must see us changing from people withdrawn into themselves to people who are open to God’s action, spiritual people (cf. 1 Cor 2:13-14), who let themselves be called into question by the Lord’s word and open their life to his Love.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us therefore nourish our faith every day with deep attention to the word of God, with the celebration of the Sacraments, with personal prayer as a “cry” to him, and with charity to our neighbour.

Let us invoke the intercession of the Virgin Mary, whom we shall contemplate tomorrow in her glorious Assumption into Heaven in body and soul, so that she may help us proclaim and witness with our lives to the joy of having encountered the Lord.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 14 August 2011]

1. The "miracles and signs" that Jesus performed to confirm his messianic mission and the coming of the kingdom of God are ordered and closely linked to the call to faith. This call in relation to the miracle has two forms: faith precedes the miracle, indeed it is a condition for it to take place; faith constitutes an effect of the miracle, because it is provoked by it in the souls of those who received it, or witnessed it.

It is well known that faith is man's response to the word of divine revelation. The miracle occurs in organic connection with this revealing word of God. It is a 'sign' of his presence and working, a sign, one might say, that is particularly intense. All this sufficiently explains the special link that exists between the "miracle-signs" of Christ and faith: a link so clearly delineated in the Gospels.

6. Particularly touching is the episode of the Canaanite woman, who did not cease to ask Jesus' help for her daughter "cruelly tormented by a demon". When the Canaanite woman prostrated herself before Jesus to ask him for help, he replied: 'It is not good to take the bread of the children to throw it to the little dogs' (this was a reminder of the ethnic diversity between Israelites and Canaanites, which Jesus, son of David, could not ignore in his practical behaviour, but to which he alluded in a methodological function to provoke faith). And here the woman intuitively comes to an unusual act of faith and humility. She says: 'It is true, Lord . . . but even little dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table'. Faced with such a humble, gracious and confident word, Jesus replies: 'Woman, truly great is your faith! May it be done to you as you wish" (cf. Mt 15:21-28).

It is an event difficult to forget, especially when one thinks of the countless 'Canaanites' of every time, country, colour and social condition, who reach out their hand to ask for understanding and help in their needs!

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 16 December 1987]

The Gospel [...] describes the meeting between Jesus and the Canaanite woman. Jesus is to the north of Galilee, in foreign territory. The woman was not Jewish, she was Canaanite. Jesus is there to spend some time with His disciples away from the crowds, from the crowds whose numbers are always growing. And behold, a woman approached Him seeking help for her sick daughter: “Have mercy on me, Lord!” (v. 22). It is the cry that is born out of a life marked by suffering, from the sense of the helplessness of a mamma who sees her daughter tormented by evil who cannot be healed; she cannot heal her. Jesus initially ignores her, but this mother insists; she insists, even when the Master says to the disciples that His mission is directed only to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (v. 24) and not to the pagans. She continues to beg Him, and at that point, He puts her to the test, citing a proverb. It’s a bit…this seems almost a bit cruel, but she puts her to the test: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (v. 26). And right away, the woman, quick, anguished, responds: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (v. 27).

And with these words, that mother shows that she has perceived the goodness of the Most High God present in Jesus who is open to any of His creatures necessities. And this wisdom, filled with trust, touches Jesus’s heart and provokes words of admiration: “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish” (v. 28). What type of faith is great? Great faith is that which brings its own story, marked even by wounds, and brings it to the Lord’s feet asking Him to heal them, to give them meaning.

Each one of us has our own story and it is not always a story “of export”, it is not always a clean story… Many times it is a difficult story, with a lot of pain, many misfortunes and many sins. What do I do with my story? Do I hide it? No! We must bring it before the Lord. “Lord, if You will it, you can heal me!” This is what this woman teaches us, this wonderful mother: the courage to bring our own painful story before God, before Jesus, to touch God’s tenderness, Jesus’s tenderness. Let’s try this story, this prayer: let each one of us think of his or her own story. There are always ugly things in a story, always. Let us go to Jesus, knock on Jesus’s heart and say to Him: “Lord, if You will it, you can heal me!” And we can do this if we always have the face of Jesus before us, if we understand what Christ’s heart is like, what Jesus’s heart is like: a heart that feels compassion, that bears our pains, that bears our sins, our mistakes, our failures. But it is a heart that love us like that, as we are, without make-up: He loves us like that. “Lord, if You will it, you can heal me!” This is why it is necessary to understand Jesus, to be familiar with Jesus. I always go back to the advice that I give you: always carry a small pocket-size Gospel and read a passage every day. There you will find Jesus as He is, as He presents Himself; you will find Jesus who loves us, who loves us a lot, who tremendously wants our well-being. Let us remember the prayer: “Lord, if You will it, you can heal me!” A beautiful prayer. Carry the Gospel: in your purse, in your pocket and even on your mobile phone, to look at. May the Lord help us, all of us, to pray this beautiful prayer, that a pagan woman teaches us: not a Christian woman, not a Jewish woman, a pagan woman.

May the Virgin Mary intercede with her prayer so that the joy of faith might grow in every baptized person as well as the desire to communicate it through a consistent witness of life, that she give us the courage to approach Jesus and to say to Him: “Lord, if You will it, you can heal me!”!

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 August 2020]

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

Pure and impure: God's Law or formal blindness

(Mt 15:1-2.10-14)

 

The invisible Friend in us is the only Guide that should be followed with care and punctiliousness.

The only Master of Spirit who understands the different and does not harass him/her - because He does not use us.

Here comes the 'law or customs' paradox: «Why do you also transgress the Commandment of God in the name of your Tradition?» (v.3).

Sure, habits normalize manners.

Over time, mechanically fulfilled customs lose the sense of the Commandments from which they sprang.

And the vacuous standards then ruin life (vv.4-9), irritate, exacerbate tempers.

 

The purity laws discriminated against people and filled them with resentment.

Instead, no exclusivism is to be introduced at the Eucharistic Banquet. Nor are we to be part of the Lord's Community on the basis of artificial selections.

The ablution of the hands up to the elbows was customary practice, proclaiming the detachment of the Judaizers from the pagan world: a kind of rite celebrating the separation of the (supposedly) pure from the impure.

The 'breaking of the bread', on the other hand, is accessed without rigmarole or discipline of the arcane, nor prior x-rays.

All are welcome, because it is the encounter with God that makes humanity of all cultural backgrounds alive and healthy.

Christ opens a completely new Way, to bring ordinary people closer to a greater balance, animated by spousal, creative trust.

For Jesus, access to the Father is immediate and gratuitous.

 

In the area of Faith, it is Life that conquers death.

According to customary religiosity, it is conversely the germ of death that contaminates purity.

In this prison of screwed-up ideas, people lived with the fear of sin and transgressions (even unintentional ones) - just always stucked on to everybody.

In order to free the oppressed masses from the archaic ideology that subjected them to a daily barrage on all aspects of life, Jesus is forced to overthrow the 'in-out' hierarchy (v.11).

Spiritual leaders inculcated the idea that impurity came from without, and was so incisive as to contaminate even holy people [even for a mere rubbing - let alone the masses destined for an ordinary existence of deprivation].

Instead, Jesus makes us feel good: He reverses the virtues on the field. The Lord does so, well aware of the power of Life.

In doing so, He places the debate on 'pure or impure' at another level: of depth, behaviour, and relationship.

 

Father, Son, Spirit, emancipate us from corporate attitudes and from always being on the defensive; to restore our self-esteem, joy in life, and make us feel adequate, as in a Hearth.

His aim is to let us live intensely, with the perception that it is He in ourselves who is guiding the rudder; wisely, rather than letting us end up badly - as in the same, usual mass grave (v.14).

 

 

[Tuesday 18th wk. in O.T. (year A),  August 4, 2026]