Do not be afraid to swim against the tide in order to meet Jesus, to direct your attention upwards to meet his gaze. The “logo” of my Pastoral Visit portrays the scene of Mark delivering the Gospel to Peter, taken from a mosaic in this basilica. Today, symbolically, I come to redeliver the Gospel to you, the spiritual children of St Mark, in order to strengthen you in the faith and encourage you in the face of the challenges of the present time. Move ahead with confidence on the path of the new evangelization, in loving service to the poor and with courageous testimony in the various social realities. Be aware that you bear a message meant for every man and for the whole man; a message of faith, of hope and of love [...].

Dear friends, the mission of the Church bears fruit because Christ is truly present among us in a quite special way in the Holy Eucharist. His is a dynamic presence which grasps us in order to make us his, to liken us to him. Christ draws us to himself, he brings us out of ourselves to make us all one with him. In this way he also inserts us into the community of brothers and sisters: communion with the Lord is always also communion with others. 

For this reason our spiritual life depends essentially on the Eucharist. Without it, faith and hope are extinguished, love cools.

[Pope Benedict, Assembly for the Closing of the Pastoral Visit Venice 8 May 2011]

5. Together with all Christ's disciples, the Catholic Church bases upon God's plan her ecumenical commitment to gather all Christians into unity. Indeed, "the Church is not a reality closed in on herself. Rather, she is permanently open to missionary and ecumenical endeavour, for she is sent to the world to announce and witness, to make present and spread the mystery of communion which is essential to her, and to gather all people and all things into Christ, so as to be for all an 'inseparable sacrament of unity' ".

Already in the Old Testament, the Prophet Ezekiel, referring to the situation of God's People at that time, and using the simple sign of two broken sticks which are first divided and then joined together, expressed the divine will to "gather from all sides" the members of his scattered people. "I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Then the nations will know that I the Lord sanctify Israel" (cf. 37:16-28). The Gospel of John, for its part, considering the situation of the People of God at the time it was written, sees in Jesus' death the reason for the unity of God's children: "Jesus would die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad" (11:51-52). Indeed, as the Letter to the Ephesians explains, Jesus "broke down the dividing wall of hostility ... through the Cross, thereby bringing the hostility to an end"; in place of what was divided he brought about unity (cf. 2:14-16).

6. The unity of all divided humanity is the will of God. For this reason he sent his Son, so that by dying and rising for us he might bestow on us the Spirit of love. On the eve of his sacrifice on the Cross, Jesus himself prayed to the Father for his disciples and for all those who believe in him, that theymight be one, a living communion. This is the basis not only of the duty, but also of the responsibility before God and his plan, which falls to those who through Baptism become members of the Body of Christ, a Body in which the fullness of reconciliation and communion must be made present. How is it possible to remain divided, if we have been "buried" through Baptism in the Lord's death, in the very act by which God, through the death of his Son, has broken down the walls of division? Division "openly contradicts the will of Christ, provides a stumbling block to the world, and inflicts damage on the most holy cause of proclaiming the Good News to every creature". 

[Ut Unum sint]

The Christian does not walk alone: he is embedded in a people, in a secular history and is called to put himself at the service of others. 'Memory' and 'service' are the key words of Pope Francis' reflection during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Thursday 30 April. History - and therefore the memory one has of it - and service are, the Pontiff said, the "two traits of the Christian's identity" on which "today's liturgy" makes us reflect.

The reference is given by the passage from the Acts of the Apostles (13:13-25) in which we read that Paul, on arriving in Antioch, "as he usually did, went on the Sabbath to the synagogue" and there "was invited to speak". This was, in fact, "a custom of the Jews of that time" when a guest arrived. Having taken the floor, Paul 'began to preach Jesus Christ'. But, the Pope stressed, 'he did not say: "I preach Jesus Christ, the Saviour; he came from Heaven; God sent him; he saved us all and gave us this revelation. No, no, no'. To explain who Jesus is, the apostle "begins to tell the whole story of the people. We then read in Scripture: "Paul stood up and beckoned with his hand and said, 'Listen, the God of this people of Israel chose our fathers...'". And, starting with Abraham, Paul "tells the whole story".

It is not a random choice. In his reflection, Francis pointed out how the same thing was done by 'Peter in his speeches, after Pentecost', and also 'Stephen, before the Sanhedrin'. They, that is, "did not announce a Jesus without history", but "Jesus in the history of the people, a people that God has been making walk for centuries to arrive at this maturity, at the fullness of time, as Paul says". From this account we understand that "when this people arrives at the fullness of time, the Saviour comes, and the people continues to walk because this Saviour will return".

Here, then, the Pope reiterated, is one of the traits of Christian identity: 'it is to be a man and woman of history, to understand that history does not begin with me and ends with me'. Everything began, in fact, when the Lord entered history.

To comfort this, the Pontiff recalled the "very beautiful" psalm recited at the beginning of the Mass: "When you advanced Lord with your people and when you opened the way for them and dwelt with them - I remember that God walked with his people - the earth trembled, the heavens shouted. Admirable'. So 'the Christian is a man and woman of history, because he or she does not belong to himself or herself, he or she is part of a people, a walking people'. Hence the impossibility of thinking of 'a Christian egoism'. In other words, there is no perfect Christian, 'a laboratory spiritual man or woman', but always a spiritual man or woman inserted 'in a people, which has a long history and continues to walk until the Lord returns'.

Looking precisely at this concrete story that has unfolded over the centuries and continues to this day, the Pontiff added that if we assume "to be men and women of history", we also realise that this is "a story of God's grace, because God advanced with his people, opened the way, lived with them". But it is also 'history of sin'. And the Pope recalled: 'How many sinners, how many crimes...'. Also in the passage from the Acts of the Apostles, for example, 'Paul mentions King David, who was holy', but who 'before becoming holy was a great sinner'. And this, he emphasised, is true 'also today' when everyone's 'personal history' must take on 'their sin and the grace of the Lord who is with us'. For God accompanies us in sin 'to forgive', accompanies us 'in grace'.

It is therefore a very concrete reality that spans the centuries, the one recalled by Francis in his homily: "We," he said, "are not rootless", we have "deep roots" that we must never forget and that go from "our father Abraham to today".

Understanding, however, that we are not alone, that we are closely linked to a people that has been walking for centuries, also means understanding another characteristic trait of the Christian and that is "what Jesus teaches us in the Gospel: service". In the passage from John proposed by the liturgy on Thursday of the fourth week of Easter, "Jesus washes the disciples' feet. And after he had washed their feet, he said to them, 'Truly, truly I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor is a sent one greater than he who sent him. Knowing these things, you are blessed if you put them into practice. I have done this with you, you do the same with others. I have come to you as a servant, you must make yourselves servants of one another, serve''.

It is clear, the Pontiff pointed out, that 'Christian identity is service, not selfishness'. Someone, he said, might retort: 'But Father, we are all selfish', but this 'is a sin, it is a habit from which we must detach ourselves'; we must then 'ask for forgiveness, may the Lord convert us'. Being a Christian, in fact, 'is not an appearance or even a social conduct, it is not a bit of making up one's soul, so that it may be a bit more beautiful'. To be a Christian, the Pope said decisively, "is to do what Jesus did: to serve. He came not to be served, but to serve'.

Hence some of the Pontiff's suggestions for the daily life of each of us. First of all, "think about these two things: do I have a sense of history? Do I feel part of a people walking from afar?". Useful might be 'to take the Bible, the Book of Deuteronomy, chapter 26, and read it'. Here, he said, one encounters "the memory, the memory of the righteous" and "how the Lord wants us to be 'mindful'", that is, to remember "the path our people walked". It is also good for us to think: "in my heart, what more do I do? Do I let others serve me, do I serve others, the community, the parish, my family, my friends, or do I serve, am I in service'?

"Memory and service", then, are the two attitudes of the Christian, those with which one also participates in the Eucharistic celebration "which is precisely memory of the service that Jesus did; real memory, with Him, of the service He rendered us: giving His life for us."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily in L'Osservatore Romano 01/05/2015]

Fourth Easter Sunday (year A)  [26 April 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:14a, 36–41)

The account of Peter’s speech in Jerusalem on the morning of Pentecost continues, and since he is now filled with the Holy Spirit, he reads, as it were, an open book in God’s plan. Everything appears clear to him; he recalls the prophet Joel who had announced: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (Joel 2:28), and it is evident to him that we are at the dawn of the fulfilment of this promise. Through Jesus, rejected and put to death by men, yet raised and exalted by God, the Spirit has been poured out upon all flesh, and Jewish pilgrims from every corner of the Roman Empire have come to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the feast of the gift of the Law. During their journey and even upon arriving at the Temple in Jerusalem, the pilgrims sang psalms and implored God for the coming of the Messiah. Peter sought to open their eyes: the Messiah of whom you speak is that Jesus whom you have crucified, and when he declares Jesus to be Lord and Messiah, the Christ, these statements of his certainly seem very bold. If the man from Nazareth is the expected Messiah, this means that all the hope of Israel rests upon Jesus. Peter’s listeners were struck to the heart, says Luke, and Peter certainly knew how to touch their hearts. What must we do, they ask themselves? The answer is simple: repent to save yourselves from this perverse generation, and to repent, in biblical language, is precisely to turn around, to make a U-turn. There are two paths before us, and we often take the wrong one: we must then return to the right path. Peter makes a simple observation: the generation living at the time of Christ and the apostles was faced with a real challenge, namely to recognise in Jesus the Messiah awaited for centuries. Unfortunately, however, Jesus did not possess the characteristics or fulfil the hopes placed in the Messiah, who was imagined as the liberator of the Jewish people; thus, an error of judgement was made and the path was lost. For this reason, Peter calls on everyone to be converted and invites them to receive Baptism: be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit promised to you, to your children, and to all those who are far off, whom our Lord God will call. Furthermore, for Jews familiar with the study of the Scriptures, Peter recalls the prophecy of Joel – ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh’ – just as his words echo those of the prophet Isaiah concerning the peace and covenant desired by God with the people of Israel (cf. Is 49:1; 57:19). It was precisely through this Covenant that Israel felt bound to God: they were the chosen people, the son, as the prophet Hosea says (11:1), whilst other peoples seemed far from God. When Isaiah then states that peace is also for those who are far away, he recalls that the chosen people have a mission of peace for all humanity, called to enter into what might be called God’s plan of peace. The author notes that on that day three thousand were baptised. He adds that the three thousand Jews who had become Christians were among those whom Peter called ‘neighbours’. Little by little, throughout the Book of Acts, even those who were far off will join those ‘called’ by God. To them, St Paul will say, in his letter to the Ephesians: you who were once far off have now become neighbours through the blood of Christ. And it is Christ, our peace, for ‘of the two, the Jew and the Gentile’, he has made one (Eph 2:14–18).

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

We encountered Psalm 22/23 on the Fourth Sunday of Lent.  At the time, I emphasised three points in my commentary: first, the psalms speak of Israel as a whole, even though the speaker uses the first person singular, saying ‘I’; second, to describe its religious experience, Israel uses two comparisons: that of the Levite who finds joy in dwelling in the House of God, and that of the pilgrim who takes part in the sacred meal following the thanksgiving sacrifices. However, one must read between the lines to see that, through these two comparisons, the chosen people feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for God’s gratuitous Covenant. Thirdly, the early Christians recognised in this psalm the privilege of their own experience as the baptised, and Psalm 22/23 became, in the early Church, the hymn for the celebration of Baptism. I shall simply pause at the first verse: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” There are many references in the Bible. The prophet Micah prays thus: Lord, with your staff be the shepherd of your people, the flock that belongs to you, so that the people may perceive themselves as God’s inheritance (cf. Mic 7:14). In Psalm 15/16, however, we find the inverse expression: ‘Lord, my portion and my cup; you determine my lot; the portion that falls to me brings me joy; I truly have the finest inheritance.’ When God is compared to a shepherd and Israel to his flock, one dares to think that the chosen people are a treasure to their God, which is a bold notion, and the use of such language is an invitation to trust, for God is portrayed as a good shepherd—that is, the one who gathers, guides, nourishes, cares for, protects and defends his flock, watching over all its needs. The prophet Micah writes that God will gather together all the remnant of Israel (cf. 2:12), and bring them together as a flock, gathering the lame and the scattered sheep. Zephaniah takes up the same theme: I will save the lame sheep (cf. 3:19), I will gather those who are scattered, which means that whenever we sow division, we are working against God. God, the attentive shepherd, shepherd-guide and defender of his flock. We find this frequently in the Psalms, particularly in Psalm 94/95, which is the daily morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, where we read: ‘We are the people he leads, the flock guided by his hand’. In Psalm 77/78 we read that, like a shepherd, God leads his people, drives his flock into the desert, guides them, defends them, reassures them, and Psalm 79/80 begins with an appeal: “Shepherd of Israel: listen, you who lead Joseph, your flock, reveal your strength and come to save us”. It is clear that in difficult times, when the flock—that is, Israel—feels ill-guided, abandoned, mistreated or, worse still, beaten down, the prophets often turn to the image of the good shepherd to restore hope. It is therefore no surprise to find this theme in Second Isaiah, in the Book of the Consolation of Israel: God, like a shepherd, tends his flock; his arm gathers the lambs, carries them close to his heart, and leads the nursing ewes (cf. 40:11), so that along the roads they may still graze; on the barren heights shall be their pastures; they shall neither hunger nor thirst; the scorching wind and the sun shall no longer strike them, for he, full of compassion, will guide them, lead them to living waters (cf. Is. 49:9–10). Finally, Ezekiel also takes up this theme, saying that thus says the Lord God: “I myself will tend my sheep and search for them, just as a shepherd searches for his flock when he is among his scattered sheep; so I will search for my sheep and rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and thick fog; I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, in the valleys and in all the best places. I will feed them in good pasture, and their grazing grounds will be on the highlands of Israel; there my sheep will lie down in lush pastures and graze in rich pastures. ‘On the mountains of Israel, I myself will tend my flock and let them rest,’ declares the Lord God. ‘The lost sheep I will seek out; the strayed I will bring back; the injured I will bind up; the sick I will strengthen’ (cf. 34:11–16).  Today, in turn, we sing this Psalm 22/23, knowing that Jesus presented himself as the shepherd of the lost sheep, inviting us to place our trust in the tenderness of God the Shepherd. In a time like ours, when our societies are going through days of clouds and gloom, we are invited to contemplate the image of the Good Shepherd and to renew our trust: God, the true Good Shepherd, never abandons us. 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:20b–25)

Saint Peter addresses a particular social group, slaves, because slavery still existed at that time and, under Roman law, a slave was at the mercy of his master, an object in his hands. It therefore happened that slaves suffered mistreatment at the whim of their masters, and a Christian slave serving a non-Christian master was exposed to even harsher oppression. Peter essentially encourages us to imitate Christ, who was himself a ‘slave out of love’ (cf. Phil 2:7) and who devoted his entire life to the service of all people. How, then, did he behave? When insulted, he did not respond with insults; when made to suffer, he did not threaten, but entrusted himself to the One who judges justly. Saint Peter urges us to endure suffering even when doing good, knowing that it is a grace in God’s eyes to be able to behave like Christ when facing trials. Certainly there is no Christian vocation to suffering, but in suffering there is a call to behave according to the example of Christ. So it is not suffering for the sake of suffering, but imitating Christ, who himself suffered by taking our sins upon himself on the wood of the cross, so that, having died to sin, we might live for righteousness. For by his wounds we have been healed. God has saved us so that we may live for righteousness. We have been healed of our wounds, which are our inability to love and to give, to forgive, to share. Because of original sin, we were far from God and disoriented, wandering like sheep. In Christ, crucified for our sins, we have regained fidelity to God’s plan, and his wounds have healed us. Christ died to bear witness to the truth, remaining faithful to the Father even on the cross. The cross, a place of utter horror and unbridled human hatred, has become the throne of absolute love. In Jesus’ forgiveness of his executioners, we are given the chance to contemplate and believe in God’s love for humanity, revealed in the cross, which can transform and convert us.  The prophet Zechariah reminds us: “They will look upon him whom they have pierced” (cf. 12:10), and this heals us, saves us—that is, it makes us capable once more of loving and forgiving as Christ did. When we allow ourselves to be moved by this absolute love of God, our hearts of stone become hearts of flesh, capable of living as he did. Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by this contagion of mercy so that Christ may continue, through us too, the work of transforming all humanity: He continues to send out disciples “like lambs among wolves” (cf. Lk 10:3; Mt 10:16) so that, following in his footsteps, we may be witnesses everywhere to God’s infinite mercy.  

From the Gospel according to Saint John (10:1-10)

The coherence of this Sunday’s biblical readings is truly evident, for the psalm, the second reading and the Gospel lead us into a sheepfold. The psalm compares God’s relationship with Israel to a shepherd’s care for his flock: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want; he makes me lie down in green pastures”; in the second reading, Saint Peter speaks of people like lost, wandering sheep, invited to return “to your shepherd, the guardian of your souls”. Here, in the Gospel, we read a passage from the long discourse on the Good Shepherd and a sheepfold. To understand it, we must make the effort to imagine the landscape of the Near East, where the flock is gathered for the night in a well-guarded enclosure and in the morning the shepherd comes to release the sheep to lead them to pasture: a scene very familiar to Jesus’ listeners at the time, firstly because there were many flocks in Israel, and secondly because the Old Testament prophets had taken to comparing God’s relationship with his people to that of a shepherd caring for his flock. In the responsorial psalm we have just heard some passages on this subject, and I would add a reference to the prophet Isaiah, who emphasises God’s care for his people: full of compassion, he ‘will lead them to springs of water’ (49:9–10). Furthermore, it was said of the future Messiah that he would be a shepherd for Israel, but at the same time the prophets never ceased to warn against false shepherds, a real danger to the sheep, and a matter of life and death for the flock. Jesus, in turn, takes up precisely this same theme, highlighting the shepherd’s care for his sheep and the danger of false shepherds—a subject he revisits in this Sunday’s Gospel in the form of two brief, successive parables: that of the shepherd, followed by that of the gate. It is interesting that he takes care to introduce both with the solemn formula ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’, an expression that always introduces something new. But if the theme of the shepherd was well known, where is the novelty? On the other hand, John specifies that these two parables are addressed to the Pharisees: Jesus tells the first, but, as he notes, they did not understand what Jesus meant to say to them, so Jesus continues with the second. The Pharisees did not understand the first, or did not want to understand it, perhaps simply because, quite clearly, Jesus suggests that he himself is this good shepherd capable of bringing happiness to his people, and they suddenly find themselves demoted to the rank of bad shepherds. Is it not that they understood perfectly well what Jesus meant, but could not accept it because that would be to admit that this Galilean is the Messiah, the One sent by God? Jesus bears no resemblance whatsoever to the image they had of him, and this is perhaps why Jesus took care to say, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’. When he begins a discourse with this opening, one must pay particular attention, for it is equivalent to idiomatic expressions frequently found in the prophets of the Old Testament. Indeed, when the Spirit of God breathes into them words that are hard to understand or accept, the prophets always take care to begin—and sometimes end—their preaching with phrases such as ‘the word of the Lord’ or ‘thus says the Lord’. Although they knew this and were therefore aware that Jesus was speaking of matters of great importance, the Pharisees did not understand or did not wish to understand; nevertheless, Jesus persists, and John helps us to understand this deliberate insistence by noting that “then Jesus said again”. Here we see all of Jesus’ patience, as he tries in every way to convince his listeners: “Truly, truly, I say to you: I am the gate for the sheep” and whoever enters through me will be saved. Different ways to help them understand that he is the Messiah, the Saviour, and that only through him does the flock gain access to true life, life in abundance. We can draw one final lesson from this Gospel: Jesus says that the sheep follow the shepherd because they know his voice, and behind this image, we can discern a reality of the life of faith: our contemporaries will not follow Christ, will not be his disciples, if we do not make the voice of Christ resound, if we do not make the Word of God known. Is this not, once again, Jesus’ heartfelt appeal to make the sound of his voice heard by every means possible? 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Scientists and Lowlies: abstract world and incarnation

(Mt 11:25-30)

The leaders looked at religiosity with a view to interest. Professors of theology were accustomed to evaluate every comma on the basis of their own knowledge, ridiculous but supponent - unrelated to real events.

That which remains tied to customs and the usual protagonists does not make one dream, it is not an apparition and astonishing testimony of Elsewhere; it detracts expressive richness of the announcement and life.

The Lord rejoices in his own experience, which brings a non-epidermal joy and a teaching from the Spirit - about those who are well disposed, and able to understand the depths of the Kingdom, in ordinary things.

In short, after an initial moment of enthusiastic crowds, the Christ delves deeper into the themes and finds himself all against, except God and the least ones: the weightlesses, but eager to start from scratch.

Glimpse of the Mystery that leavens history - without making it a possession.

At first even Jesus is stunned by the rejection of those who considered themselves already satisfied and no longer expected anything that could overcome habits.

Then He understands, praises and blesses the Father's plan: the authentic Person is born from the gutter, and possesses «the sense of neighborhood» (FT n.152).

The Creator is simple Relationship: He demystifies the idol of greatness.

The Eternal One is not the master of creation: He is Refreshment that reassures, because makes us feel complete and lovable. He seeks us out, He pays attention to the language of the heart.

He is Custodian of the world, even of the unlearned ones - of the «infants»  (v.25) spontaneously empty of boastful spirit, that is, of those who do not remain closed in their sufficient belonging.

Thus the Father-Son bond is communicated to God’s poor: those who are endowed with the attitude of family members (v.27).

Insignificant and invisible without great external capacities, but who abandon themselves to the proposals of the provident life that comes, like babies in the arms of parents.

In this way, with a pietas’ Spirit that favours those who allow themselves to be filled with innate wisdom.

The only reality that corresponds to us and does not present the "bill": it does not proceed along the paths of functional thinking, of calculating initiative.

Sapience that transmits freshness in the readiness to personally receive, welcome, re-temper the Truth as a Gift, and the spontaneous enthusiasm itself, capable of realizing it.

A simple blessing prayer, for the simple ones - this of Jesus (v.25) - which makes us grow in esteem, fits perfectly with our experience, and gets along well with ourselves.

The new ones, the nullities, the voiceless and invisible do not think in terms of doctrine and laws [vv.29-30: unbearable "yoke" that crushes people, and concrete, particular vocations] but in terms of life and humanity.

Thus they enrich the fundamental and spontaneous experience of Faith-Love, satisfying, fulfilling it without mannerisms or intimate forcing.

While the exteriority of the pyramidal world, the distrust of those who want “to count", the anxiety of a competitive society, impoverish the gaze and contaminate the vital wave.

We, too, do not appreciate too much the energy of the 'models', nor the aggressive power of the “big guys”.

Rather than only with the “big” and external, we wish to live by Communion - even with the 'small' self, or there will be no loveliness, no authentic life.

To internalize and live the message:

What do you feel when you are told: «You don't count»? 

Does it remain a humiliating contempt or do you consider it a great Light received, as Jesus did

[St Catherine of Siena, April 29]

(Mt 11:25-30)

The one prayer of Jesus little taught

Scientists and Little People: abstract world and incarnation

(Mt 11:25-27)

"The world gives credit to the "wise" and the "learned", while God prefers the "little ones". The general teaching from this is that there are two dimensions of reality: one is deeper, true and eternal, the other marked by finiteness, impermanence and appearance" [Pope Benedict].

God's Broad Reason is not according to "fortune", or "measure"

In commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (iv) Master Ho-shang Kung writes:

"Human desires are sharp and subtle; they strive to appropriate merit and glory. When they are blunted, man masters them, and in imitation of the Way, does not fill himself".

The leaders looked at religiosity with an interest. Professors of theology used to evaluate every comma from their own ridiculously supponent knowledge - unrelated to real events.

Jesus finds himself against even his own family. Under the cloak and blackmail of habitual social conventions, they too were subjected to the preconception of the opinion of the 'great' and the evasive oral tradition, which did not convey nourishment to the concrete fabric of human time.

The Lord observes: even the Apostles are not free people; that is why they do not emancipate anyone and even prevent any breakthrough (cf. Luke 9).

Their way of being is so grounded in standard attitudes and compulsory behaviour that it translates into impermeable mental armour.

Their predictability is too limiting: it gives no breathing space to the path of those who instead want to reactivate themselves, discover and value surprises behind the secret sides of reality and personality.

That which remains bound to ancient customs [or abstractions] and usual protagonists [or sophisticated pseudo-teachers] does not make one dream, it is not an apparition and astonishing testimony of the Other; it takes away expressive richness from the Announcement and from life.

The Master rejoices in his own experience, which brings a non-epidermal joy and a teaching from the Spirit - about those who are well-disposed, and capable of understanding the depths of the Kingdom, in ordinary things.

[At a certain point in the spiritual journey, one realises in Christ that one must detach oneself from the idolatry of deference: it stifles and mocks life.

Faith proceeds on the track of the Happiness of the concrete woman and man, conversely rendered puppet-like by a false piety that is all exhibitionist or disembodied].

In short, after an initial moment of enthusiastic crowds, the Master delves deeper into the issues and finds everyone against him, except God and the least: the weightless, but with a strong desire to start from scratch.

Gleam of the Mystery that leavens history - without making it a possession.

At the conclusion of the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis cites the figure and experience of Charles de Foucauld, who - subverting everything - "only by identifying himself with the least came to be a brother to all" (no. 287).

At first, even Jesus is stunned by the rejection of those who were already satisfied with the official religious structure and were no longer waiting for anything that could oust the beaten track, arousing habits (or fantasies) and gaining advantage.

Then it overcomes the initial surprise: it fully grasps, praises and blesses the Father's plan, making it its own, holding it close to itself.

He brings to full and proper knowledge his Secret: that the Root of the transformation of being into the Unseen of God is concealment, "tapinōsis" [(tapeínōsis, "lowering"), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, "low") [v.29; Lk 1:48].

Here, the Son knows and understands the nucleus of the Expectations and Promises of the Covenant, and its protagonists - on the contrary: the trustworthy Person is born precisely from the slums, not from the class of elites.

In short, Christ intuits the all-round authenticity precisely of the unfortunate - the profound impulse, motive, motor, quintessence and unique energy of salvation history.

Transparency of the Eternal, which comes from another elaboration.

Genesis itself upsets the established religious relationship, which at times has become inert and "reassuring" - never profound nor decisive for human destiny.

God is Simple Report: he demythologises the idol of greatness.

The Eternal One is no longer the master of creation [He who manifested Himself strong and peremptory; in His action, still in the Old Covenant illustrated through the irrepressible powers of nature].

Quite the opposite. In this way, reflexively, and also in the spiritual journey, the Father does not lead us to alienation, to the hysteria of forcings we do not want, to inner dissociations.

He is Friend and Refreshment that refreshes, because He makes us feel complete and lovable; He seeks us by Name, He is attentive to the language of the heart.

He is Keeper of the world, even of the unlearned - of the "infants" (v.25) spontaneously empty of a boastful spirit, that is, of those who do not remain closed in their sufficient belonging.As it is, 'perfect' in order to their mission in the world. Not empty glasses, only to be re-educated in institutional function.

No longer souls to be chiselled according to models.

If anything, hearts to be guided to total awareness; souls to be completed in the sense of complete self-discovery, in the opposites of character and vocational essence.

In this way, the Father-Son relationship is communicated to God's poor: those endowed with a family-like attitude (v.27).

Capable of coexistence, yet more autonomous than the identified and well-integrated... totally committed to tracing, in order to be recognised.

The poor remain genuine: what they are; not outsiders.

Insignificant and invisible, devoid of great gifts, but strangely always filled with an Other 'power'.

This is the 'virtue' of the infirm, who abandon themselves to the proposals of the providential life that comes, like children in the arms of parents.

With a spirit of 'pietas' - which favours those who allow themselves to be filled with innate wisdom.

The only reality that corresponds to us and does not present the 'bill': it does not proceed along the paths of functional thinking, of calculating initiative.

Wisdom that conveys freshness in the readiness to receive, welcome, personally reinvigorate the Truth as Gift - and the spontaneous enthusiasm itself, capable of realising it.

A prayer of blessing that is simple, for the simple - this of Jesus (v.25) - that makes us grow in esteem, fits perfectly with our experience, and agrees with ourselves; starting from the innermost.

But that strangely, the learned in the territory who do not live 'the spirit of the neighbourhood' (FT no.152) but in the territory claim positions and always play smart, have never wanted to transmit to us.

The new, the voiceless and invisible do not reason in terms of doctrine and laws - vv.29-30: unbearable 'yoke' that crushes people and concrete, particular vocations - but in terms of life and humanity.

This is how we enrich the fundamental and spontaneous experience of Faith-Love, fulfilling it without mannerisms or intimate forcing that then pulls us out of ourselves.

Because the exteriority of the pyramidal world, the distrust of those who want to "count", the anxiety of the competitive and epidermic society, impoverish the gaze; they contaminate the vital wave.

For God, it is better to 'count' little.

He does not force us into the energy of models, nor does he put forward the aggressive power of the 'big shots' as an ideal.

In this way, his intimates, rather than only with the 'great' and external, will live in communion with the 'small' in themselves; or they will not enjoy amiability, nor authentic life.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you feel when you are told: 'You don't count'?

Does it remain a humiliating contempt or do you consider it a great Light received, as Jesus did?

The Yoke on the Little Ones

Religion turned into obsession - for "held back"

(Mt 11:28-30)

The rabbis chose disciples from among those with greater intellectual and ascetic abilities. Jesus instead goes after the outcasts, the "infants" (v.25) who did not even have self-esteem.

Even for the rebirth that is on the horizon today, Christ has no need of false phenomena; on the contrary, it is He who frees from external constraints; He releases inner strength [and also heals the brain]. 

Into the intimacy of the Mystery of divine life enters those who know how to receive everything and let go - but remain themselves.

God is not distant, but very near; he is not great, but small: the effective way to become intimate with the Father is not to make oneself subordinate with effort, but to know oneself as a dissolved family member.

Only here can we grasp him in the centre of his unveiling: wise power, succouring, united; for us, as we are.

The pundits of official religion - overflowing with self-love and a sense of election - preached a God to be convinced with confident attitudes and a contrived, cutting, imperious manner.

They let neither being nor becoming be. Intransigence was a sign that they did not know the Father.

The Eternal One transformed into the Controller had become a source of discrimination and obsession for the intimate life of tiny people, harassed by the insecurity of distinguishing-avoiding-observing, and by doubts of conscience.

Discouraged from living personally (and as a class) the conversion they preached to others, the professors did not realise that they had to empty themselves of absurd presumptions and become - they - pupils of ordinary people.

In short, as children we are incessantly invited to build a multifaceted family, where we are not always on the alert.

We are not the subordinates of a frowning and all-distant - but manipulative - Lord.

Rather, they were called to a paradoxical, personal and class choice: and without forcing it, to recognise themselves - to stand alongside the humiliated and harassed.

This is while provincial false piety continues to drag burdens - precisely those of the thwarted and weary, of existence made more hesitant rather than free; obsessed and heavy, rather than light.

Why? Without mincing words, the Encyclical Brothers All would reply:

"The best way to dominate and advance without limits is to sow the seeds of hopelessness and arouse constant distrust, albeit disguised with the defence of certain values" (no.15).

As if to say: when the authorities and the top of the class have little credibility, only the sowing of fear produces significant conditioning in the people, and puts them on a leash.

In the widespread Church, we have only for the past few decades overcome the cliché of moralistic and terroristic preaching [e.g. even at Advent time] divorced from a meridian sense of humanisation.

The excluded, dejected and exhausted by meaningless fulfilments have nevertheless continued to meet the Saviour frankly, finding rest of soul, conviction, peace, balance, hope.

By instinct, they have succeeded in carving out what no pyramidal religion had ever been able to offer and deploy.

In this way, the new, the voiceless, inadequate and invisible, never know how to calculate in terms of doctrine and laws, norm and code - ancient 'yoke' (vv.29-30) unbearable, which crushes people and concrete vocations; particular autonomies or communionalities.

In short, no 'patriarch' is empowered by God to pack our souls, force directions, and keep a maniacal, perfectionist, and meticulous eye on us.

Exaggerating failures, across the board.

Everyone has an inherent way of being in the world, all their own - even if it is habitual. It is an opportunity of impulse and richness for all.

We ourselves do not want to exacerbate events by regulating every detail, even 'spiritual' ones, from irritating patterns of vigilance that do not belong to us.

We prefer to let personal ways of dealing with reality flow; thus tracing its essential and spontaneous energies.

We reason according to codes of life and humanisation: temperament, unrepeatable history, cultural influences, broad friendships. We do not live to prevent.

Only in this way can we enrich the fundamental experience: Love - which does not come from judgements, cuts and separations, but from the Father-Son relationship. One that does not irritate.

The root of the transformation of being in God's unpredictable is precisely concealment, 'tapinōsis' [(tapeínōsis, 'lowering'), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, 'low') [v.29 Greek text; Lk 1:48].

Only those who love strength start from the too far from themselves.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you find yourself more or less free and serene in community?

Does your Calling obtain breath or do you feel the burden of others' doubts, judgments, prohibitions and prescriptions?

Do you suffer from some guide or from yourself a kind of controller complex?

The world considers a long life fortunate, but God, more than age, looks at the uprightness of heart. The world gives credit to the "wise" and "intelligent", while God prefers the "lowly". The general teaching that we can draw from this is that there are two dimensions to reality: a more profound, true and eternal one and the other, marked by finitude, transience and appearance. Now, it is important to emphasize that these two dimensions are not placed in simple temporal succession, as if true eternal life were to begin only after death. In reality, true life, eternal life already begins in this world, although within the precariousness of human history; eternal life begins in the measure to which we open ourselves to the mystery of God and welcome it in our midst. It is God, the Lord of life, in whom "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17: 28), as St Paul said at the Areopagus in Athens.

God is the true wisdom that never ages, the authentic wealth that never corrupts, the happiness to which every man aspires in the depths of his heart. This truth, that passes through the Wisdom Books and re-emerges in the New Testament, comes to fulfilment in the existence and teaching of Jesus.

[Pope Benedict, homily 3 November 2008]

1. An innumerable host of "wise virgins" like those praised in the Gospel parable we have just heard, have known, throughout the Christian centuries, how to await the Bridegroom with their lamps, well stocked with oil, to participate with him in the feast of grace on earth, and of glory in heaven. Among them, today shines before our gaze the great and beloved Saint Catherine of Siena, splendid flower of Italy, most resplendent gem of the Dominican Order, star of unparalleled beauty in the firmament of the Church, whom we honour here on the sixth centenary of her death, which occurred on a Sunday morning, about the third hour, on 29 April 1380, while the feast of Saint Peter the Martyr, whom she loved so much, was being celebrated.

Happy to be able to give you a first sign of my lively participation in the centenary celebration, I cordially greet all of you, dear brothers and sisters, who, to worthily commemorate the glorious date, have gathered in this Vatican Basilica, where the ardent spirit of the great Sienese woman seems to hover. I greet in a special way the Master General of the Friars Preachers, Father Vincent de Couesnongle, and the Archbishop of Siena, Monsignor Mario Ismaele Castellano, the main promoters of this celebration; I greet the members of the Dominican Third Order and of the Ecumenical Association of the Catholics, the participants in the International Congress of Catholics Studies, and all of you, dear pilgrims, who have travelled so many roads of Italy and Europe to unite yourselves in this centre of Catholicity, on such a beautiful and significant feast day.

2. Today, we look to St Catherine first of all to admire in her what immediately struck those who approached her: the extraordinary richness of her humanity, in no way obscured, but rather increased and perfected by grace, which made her almost a living image of that true and healthy Christian "humanism", the fundamental law of which is formulated by Catherine's brother and teacher, St Thomas Aquinas, in the well-known aphorism: "Grace does not suppress, but supposes and perfects nature" (St Thomas, Summa Theologia, p. 4). Thomas, Summa Theologiae, I, q. 1, a. 8, ad 2). The full-sized man is the one who is realised in the grace of Christ.

When, in my ministry, I insist on drawing everyone's attention to the dignity and values of man, which must be defended, respected and served today, it is above all of this nature that came forth from the hands of the Creator and was renewed in the blood of Christ the Redeemer that I speak: a nature that is good in itself, and therefore healable in its infirmities and perfectible in its gifts, called to receive that "more" that makes it share in the divine nature and in "eternal life". When this supernatural element is grafted into man and can act on him with all its force, we have the prodigy of the 'new creature', which in its transcendent elevation does not annul, but makes richer, denser, firmer everything that is purely human.

Thus our saint, in her nature as a woman endowed with imagination, intuition, sensitivity, volitional and operative vigour, communicative capacity and strength, willingness to give of herself and to service, is transfigured, but not impoverished, in the light of Christ who calls her to be his bride and to mystically identify with him in the depths of 'interior knowledge', as well as to commit herself to charitable, social and even political action, among the great and the small, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant. And she, almost illiterate, becomes capable of making herself heard, and read, and taken into consideration by governors of cities and kingdoms, by princes and prelates of the Church, by monks and theologians, by many of whom she is even revered as 'teacher' and 'mother'.

She is a prodigious woman, who in that second half of the 14th century shows in herself what a human creature is capable of, and - I insist - a woman, the daughter of humble dyers, when she knows how to listen to the voice of the only shepherd and master, and nourish herself at the table of the divine Bridegroom, to whom, as a 'wise virgin', she has generously consecrated her life.

It is a masterpiece of the renewing and elevating grace of the creature to the perfection of holiness, which is also the full realisation of the fundamental values of humanity.

3. Catherine's secret in responding so meekly, faithfully and fruitfully to the call of her divine Bridegroom can be grasped from the same explanations and applications of the parable of the 'wise virgins' that she makes several times in her letters to her disciples. Particularly in the one sent to a young niece who wants to be a 'bride of Christ', she lays down a small summary of spiritual life, which applies especially to those who consecrate themselves to God in the religious state, but is of guidance and direction to all.

"If you want to be a true bride of Christ," writes the saint, "you better have the lamp, the oil and the light."Do you know what is meant by this, my child?".

And here is the symbolism of the lamp: "By the lamp is meant the heart, which must resemble a lamp. Thou seest well that the lamp is wide above, and narrow below: and so is our heart made, to signify that we must always have it wide above, by holy thoughts, holy imaginations, and continual prayer; with the memory always turned to remembering the benefits of God, and especially the benefit of the blood by which we have been recompensed...".

"I also told you that the lamp is narrow below: so also is our heart, to signify that it must be narrow towards these earthly things, neither desiring them nor loving them disorderly, nor coveting them in greater quantity than God wants to give us, but we must thank him always, admiring how sweetly he provides for us, so that we never lack anything..." (Letter 23).

In the lamp you need oil. "The lamp would not be enough if there were no oil in it. And by oil is meant that sweet little virtue of deep humility.... Those five foolish virgins, glorying solely and vainly in the integrity and virginity of the body, lost the virginity of the soul, because they did not bring with them the oil of humility..." (Ibid).

"Finally, it is necessary for the lamp to be lit and for the flame to burn in it: otherwise it would not be enough for us to see. This flame is the light of the most holy faith. I say living faith, because the saints say that faith without works is dead..." (Ibid; cf. Letters 79, 360).

Throughout her life, Catherine actually nourished the lamp of her heart with great humility, and kept the light of faith, the fire of charity, and the zeal of good works done for the love of God burning, even in the hours of tribulation and passion, when her soul reached its greatest conformation to Christ crucified, until one day the Lord celebrated the mystical wedding with her in the small cell where she lived, made all resplendent by that divine presence (cf. Life, nos. 114-115).

If men today, and especially Christians, could rediscover the wonders that can be known and enjoyed in the "inner cell", and indeed in the heart of Christ! Then, yes, man would find himself, the reasons for his dignity, the foundation of his every value, the height of his eternal vocation!

4. But Christian spirituality does not exhaust itself in an intimistic circle, nor does it push towards an individualistic and egocentric isolation. The elevation of the person takes place in the symphony of the community. And Catherine, who keeps the cell of her home and heart to herself, has lived since her youth in communion with so many other children of God, in whom she feels the mystery of the Church vibrate: with the friars of St Dominic, to whom she is united in spirit even when the bell calls them in choir, at night, for matins; with the capes of Siena, among whom she is admitted for the exercise of works of charity and the common practice of prayer; with her disciples, who grow to form around her a cenacle of fervent Christians, who welcome her exhortations to the spiritual life and the incitements to renewal and reform that she addresses to all in the name of Christ; and one can say with the entire 'mystical body of the Church' (cf. Dialogue, can. 166), with whom and for whom Catherine prays, works, suffers, offers herself, and finally dies.

His great sensitivity to the problems of the Church of his time is thus transformed into a communion with the 'Christus patiens' and the 'Ecclesia patiens'. This communion is at the origin of the same outward activity, which at a certain moment the saint is driven to carry out first with charitable action and the lay apostolate in her city, and soon on a broader level, with commitment on a social, political, ecclesial scale.

In any case, Catherine drew from that inner source the courage for action and that inexhaustible hope that sustains her even in the most difficult hours, even when all seems lost, and allows her to influence others, even at the highest ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith and the charm of her person completely offered to the cause of the Church.

At a meeting of Cardinals in the presence of Urban VI, according to the account of Blessed Raymond, Catherine "showed that divine Providence is always present, especially when the Church suffers"; and she did so with such ardour that the pontiff finally exclaimed: "What has the vicar of Jesus Christ to fear, if the whole world were to turn against him? Christ is more powerful than the world, and it is not possible for him to abandon his Church!" (Vita, n. 334).

5. That was an exceptionally serious moment for the Church and the Apostolic See. The demon of division had penetrated the Christian people. Discussions and fights were breaking out everywhere. In Rome itself there were those who plotted against the Pope, not without threatening him with death. The people were rioting.

Catherine, who did not cease to hearten pastors and faithful, felt however that the hour had come for a supreme offering of herself, as a victim of expiation and reconciliation together with Christ. And so he prayed to the Lord: "For the honour of your name and for the sake of your holy Church, I will gladly drink the cup of passion and death, as I have always wished to drink; you are my witness, since, by your grace, I began to love you with all my mind and with all my heart" (Ibid., no. 346).

From then on it began to deteriorate rapidly. Every morning of that Lent of 1380, "she went to the church of St Peter, prince of the apostles, where, having heard mass, she remained long in prayer; she did not return home until the hour of vespers", exhausted. The next day. early in the morning, "starting from the street known as Via del Papa (today St Clare's Street), where she was at home, between Minerva and Campo dei Fiori, she went swiftly to St Peter's, making a journey to tire even a healthy man" (Ibid., no. 348; cf. Letter 373).

But at the end of April, he could no longer get up. He then gathered his spiritual family around his bed. In her long farewell, she declared to her disciples: 'I commit life, death and everything into the hands of my eternal Spouse.... If it pleases him that I should die, hold firm, my dear children, that I have given my life for the holy Church, and this I believe by the exceptional grace which the Lord has granted me' (Ibid., no. 363).

Shortly afterwards she died. She was but 33 years old: a beautiful youth offered to the Lord by the 'wise virgin' who had come to the end of her waiting and service.

We are gathered here, six hundred years since that morning (Ibid., no. 348), to commemorate that death and especially to celebrate that supreme offering of life for the Church.

My dear brothers and sisters, it is consoling that you have come in such great numbers to glorify and invoke the saint on this auspicious occasion.

It is fitting that the humble Vicar of Christ, like so many of his predecessors, should inspire, precede and guide you in paying homage of praise and thanksgiving to her who loved the Church so much, and who worked and suffered so much for her unity and renewal. And I did so wholeheartedly.

Now let me give you a final remembrance, which is meant to be a message, an exhortation, an invitation to hope, a stimulus to action: I take it from the words that Catherine addressed to her disciple Stefano Maconi and to all her companions in action and passion for the Church: "If you will be what you must be, you will set fire to the whole of Italy..." (Letter 368). (Letter 368); indeed, I would add: in the whole Church, in the whole world. Humanity needs this 'fire' even today, and indeed perhaps more today than yesterday. May Catherine's word and example awaken in so many generous souls the desire to be flames that burn and that, like her, are consumed in order to give their brothers and sisters the light of faith and the warmth of charity "that does not fail" (1 Cor 13:8).

[Pope John Paul II, homily VI centenary s. Catherine of Siena, 29 April 1980]

Today we celebrate the feast of St Catherine of Siena, Co-Patroness of Italy. This great figure of a woman drew from communion with Jesus the courage of action and that inexhaustible hope that sustained her in the most difficult hours, even when all seemed lost, and enabled her to influence others, even at the highest civil and ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith. May her example help each one to know how to unite, with Christian consistency, an intense love for the Church with an effective solicitude in favour of the civil community, especially in this time of trial. I ask Saint Catherine that she protect Italy during this pandemic; and that she protect Europe, because she is the patroness of Europe, that she protect all of Europe so that it may remain united.

[Pope Francis, greetings after the General Audience 29 April 2020]