Christianity has its principal symbol in the cross. Wherever the Gospel has put down roots, the cross is there to indicate the presence of Christians. In churches and homes, in hospitals and schools, in cemeteries - the cross has become better than any other, the sign of a culture that draws from the message of Christ truth and liberty, trust and hope. 

In the process of secularization, that characterizes a great part of the contemporary world, it is all the more important for believers to fix their gaze on this central sign of Revelation and accept its original and genuine meaning. 

2. Even today, following the teaching of the early Fathers, the Church presents the Cross to the world as "the tree of life", from which one can receive the ultimate and full meaning of every single existence and of the whole of human history. 

From when Jesus made it the instrument of universal salvation, the Cross is no longer synonymous with a curse, but, on the contrary, with a blessing. For the human person, tormented by doubt and sin, it reveals that "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but have eternal life" (Jn 3,16). In a word, the cross is the supreme symbol of love. 

For this reason, young Christians carry it proudly through the streets of the world, entrusting to Christ all their worries and all their expectations of freedom, justice and peace.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 15 September 2002]

In today’s Gospel Jesus insists on the conditions for being his disciples: preferring nothing to the love of Christ, carrying one’s cross and following him. Many people in fact drew near to Jesus, they wanted to be included among his followers; and this would happen especially after some miraculous sign which accredited him as the Messiah, the King of Israel. However Jesus did not want to disappoint anyone. He knew well what awaited him in Jerusalem and which path the Father was asking him to take: it was the Way of the Cross, the way of sacrificing himself for the forgiveness of our sins. Following Jesus does not mean taking part in a triumphal procession! It means sharing his merciful love, entering his great work of mercy for each and every man and for all men. The work of Jesus is, precisely, a work of mercy, a work of forgiveness and of love! Jesus is so full of mercy! And this universal pardon, this mercy, passes through the Cross. Jesus, however, does not want to do this work alone: he wants to involve us too in the mission that the Father entrusted to him. After the Resurrection he was to say to his disciples: “As the Father has sent me, even so I send you”... if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven” (Jn 20:21-22). Jesus’ disciple renounces all his possessions because in Jesus he has found the greatest Good in which every other good receives its full value and meaning: family ties, other relationships, work, cultural and economic goods and so forth.... The Christian detaches him or herself from all things and rediscovers all things in the logic of the Gospel, the logic of love and of service.

To explain this requirement, Jesus uses two parables: that of the tower to be built and that of the king going to war. The latter says: “What king, going to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and take counsel whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends an embassy and asks terms of peace” (Lk 14:31-32). Jesus does not wish to address the topic of war here; it is only a parable. Yet at this moment in which we are praying intensely for peace, this word of the Lord touches us to the core, and essentially tells us: there is a more profound war that we must all fight! It is the firm and courageous decision to renounce evil and its enticements and to choose the good, ready to pay in person: this is following Christ, this is what taking up our cross means! This profound war against evil! What is the use of waging war, so many wars, if you aren't capable of waging this profound war against evil? It is pointless! It doesn’t work.... Among other things this war against evil entails saying “no” to the fratricidal hatred and falsehood that are used; saying “no” to violence in all its forms; saying “no” to the proliferation of weapons and to the illegal arms trade. There is so much of it! So much of it! And the doubt always remains: is this war or that war — because wars are everywhere — really a war to solve problems or is it a commercial war for selling weapons in illegal trade? These are the enemies to fight, united and consistent, following no other interests than those of peace and of the common good.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 8 September 2013]

A look into the «darkness».

As I have already mentioned, many poets and writers have described the flow of the human soul.

Eugenio Montale expresses this in one of his poems from 1925, on the pain of living, providing us with the image of a stream that cannot flow, a leaf crumpled by excessive heat, a horse exhausted on the ground.

These are images that linger in our minds, leaving us with food for thought and questions to ponder.

There have been moments of 'darkness' in our lives, and perhaps there will be more.

Feelings of discouragement and not knowing which path to take - each of us has experienced this first-hand.

The intensity and duration of the 'darkness' vary depending on the circumstances and our personal ability to react.

We react differently to defeat or disappointment; what upsets one person may leave another completely indifferent.

An encounter with 'darkness' can be common when faced with serious difficulties such as bereavement, loss of employment, the onset of illness, the end of a relationship, and so on.

This state of mind is temporary and ends spontaneously, without bringing about changes in a person's life.

In other cases, it is important not to underestimate this state of mind, as it could be a sign of psychosomatic or psychological distress.

In these cases, we often experience inexplicable feelings of worry and apathy, and we feel more fatigued.

Let us remember that the reaction to 'darkness' often follows a traumatic experience, which in ordinary circumstances would not have caused any temporary feelings of low mood.

A more severe and prolonged reaction, one that the individual cannot overcome on their own, is an unusual condition.

In older people, emotional shocks can trigger moments of 'darkness' more easily than in younger people.

Sometimes older people are marginalised, have fewer social relationships, and often suffer a loss of prestige, especially when they lose hope.

But even adolescents [with their precariousness] are not immune to these moments of unease.

It is not true that adolescence is a happy time of life; on the contrary, it is perhaps one of the most troubled.

In these moments of 'darkness', which clinicians call «depression», we notice that people going through this phase greatly reduce their activities, have less self-confidence, and take an interest in few things.

They are able to keep their jobs even if they have to work harder. Usually, their memory and relationship with reality are not altered - unless a serious condition («psychosis») has arisen.

Arieti describes the depression we have called 'darkness' here as a combination of sadness and pessimism.

The latter is the essential element of the combination; the unhealthy idea is to believe that what has happened to a person will always happen to them, or that their state of mind will never change.

Defeatism, the illusion of knowing what will happen to us in the future, consolidates sadness into 'darkness'.

Often the 'darkness' of the soul is discharged onto the body.

We may experience weight loss, feelings of oppression in the heart, decreased bodily secretions, insomnia, and frequent headaches.

In our behaviour towards others, 'darkness' makes us tend to exploit and influence others; it makes us  unwilling to be persuaded. We find it difficult to satisfy others, and hostility often overwhelms us.

Faber Andrew wrote a poem entitled “To those who are going through their darkness”...

The poet invites the reader to «believe in poetry. In the eyes of those who have already found that road».

Then again: «There is a sky here waiting for you, with a breathtaking panorama of dreams».

For a poet, poetry is the main road, but we who are not poets have something to believe in, and that is the pillar of our reality.

Let us always remember that when the night reaches its darkest point, the dawn of a new day begins.

Francesco Giovannozzi, psychologist and psychotherapist.

Incarnation, or emptiness of humanity

(Lk 6:1-5)

On the conversion’s journey, conflicts of conscience are not parentheses or accidents of the path, but crucial knots.

The genuineness of believing then generates implicative strenght and new expressive abilities.

According to ordinary religious assessments, the legislation was worth more than hunger... but God’s experience in the life overturns ideas elaborated by experts.

To be honest, observance of the Sabbath had become a central law not because of theological subtleties, very well because in the period of the Exile the weekly rest had allowed believers to gather, share hopes, encourage each other, maintain the identity of the people.

But legalism ended up stifling the spirit of the day of worship, once a sign of a freedom in the service of people’s faith and happiness.

Thus where Jesus arrives, every spiritual module empty of humanity crumbles, and the Incarnation takes hold: the place where God and man  seriously rest [other than the saturday!].

In the parallel passage of Mt (12:1-8), Jesus' response is more articulated and complete:

On Jewish Sabbath, priests had many more sacred and preparation engagements, slaughter and reordering of the Sanctuary, than the other days of the week, and the Torah obliged them... it happens to us too.

Again in Mt, the Lord quotes a famous phrase from the prophet Hosea - a man of raw experience, but who well defines the peak of intimacy with God: an authentic rite is to realize the hopes of our neighbour and to have the heart in the needs of others.

Christ emphasizes the poverty of every legalistic and hypocritical attachment in the mode of conceiving relations with the Father.

The sign of the Covenant with God, and Encounter [authentic sanctification] is adherence that continues in the plot of the days and in his active Person - not a ridiculous idolatry of observances or cultic parentheses.

Facts and rites celebrate love; and the sincere fulfilment does not follow the pedantic "as we should be", but expresses a Liberation of the person.

The biblical episode that Jesus quotes could perhaps appear not entirely pertinent to the theoretical question: his disciples did not seem to be kings or even priests.

Instead, in the new time that’s urgent, yes: ‘sovereigns’ of one’s life by Gift and Call, as well as ‘mediators’ [of divine blessings on humanity] - and also Prophets.

The lovable God establishes with us a dialogue and a friendship that invites, gives impetus, transmits taste for doing.

It’s the result of a messianic conscience as «Son of man» (v.5): transmissible to us, his brethren and friends - very united to him by Faith.

For this reason [after the call of the disciples and the first healings, then the vocation of Levi and the controversy about fasting] the Lord presents himself to the Pharisees in the royal stunt double of David, who is about to conquer the "kingdom" even with a small handful of followers.

In the time of the global crisis that affects the future, and still tries to calculate it by directing it a priori, according to selective interests, the challenge is more open than ever.

To internalize and live the message:

How did you perceive that you were reliving Christ in the fluency of the norms?

[Saturday 22th wk. in O.T.  September 6, 2025]

Incarnation, or the spiritual form empty of humanity

(Lk 6:1-5)

On the path to conversion, conflicts of conscience are not parentheses or accidents of the way, but crucial nodes.

The genuineness of belief then generates implicative force and new expressive capacities.

The alternative is between Intimacy and the practice of Faith, or religion that condemns blameless people (Mt 12:7):

According to ordinary religious assessments, regulation was worth more than hunger....

Yes, there is much to dialogue, simply, but little to discuss: God's experience in life overturns the ideas developed by experts.

To be fair, Sabbath observance had become a central law, not because of theological niceties, but because in the period of the Exile, weekly rest had made it possible to come together, to share hopes, to encourage one another, to maintain identity as a people.

But legalism ended up stifling the spirit of the day of worship, once a sign of a freedom at the service of faith and man, both of which could not be enslaved.

So where Jesus arrives, every spiritual module empty of humanity crumbles, and the Incarnation takes hold: the place where God and man rest in earnest (other than the Sabbath!).

The litmus test of the bursting of the new kingdom is the igniting of contrasts with leaders, managers, court intellectuals and executives!

They built their prestige on a patchwork of false teachings, which had nothing to do with the objective of the divine Law.

[Dog doesn't eat dog, so the brawlers of the provisions had never commented on David's transgressive behaviour.

It happens that the masters of steam and the unsavoury fundamentalists of the old or the 'new' do not go against each other...].

In the parallel passage of Mt (12:1-8) Jesus' response is more articulate and complete:

On the Sabbath day, the priests had many more sacred and preparatory duties, slaughtering and tidying up the Sanctuary, than on the other days of the week, and the Torah obliged them... it happens to us too.

Again in Mt, the Lord quotes a famous phrase from the prophet Hosea - a man of raw experience, but one that well defines the pinnacle of intimacy with God: Authentic rite is to notice the needs of one's neighbour and to have one's heart in the needs of others.

The archaic 'sacrifice' [sacrum facere, to make sacred] reflected an idea of cut-off, separation and distance between the perfect world of 'heaven' and the profane life of people.

But after the coming of the "Son of Man" (v.5), the new consecrated will not live secluded, above the lines, far from summary existence.

Rather, they will be the first to welcome and lift up those in need.

Christ emphasises the poverty of any legalistic and hypocritical attachment in the way of conceiving relations with the Father.

A sign of the Covenant with God, and an encounter (authentic sanctification) is the adherence that continues in the pattern of days and in His active Person - not a ridiculous idolatry of observances or cultic parentheses.

Facts and rituals celebrate love; and straightforward adherence does not trace the pedantic 'how we should be', but expresses a Liberation of the person.

The biblical episode that Jesus cites might perhaps have seemed not entirely relevant to the theoretical question: his disciples did not seem to be kings or even priests.

Instead, in the new time that is impending, yes: 'sovereigns' of their own lives by Gift and Calling, as well as 'mediators' [of divine blessings on humanity] - and prophets too.

Authentic ones will no longer play the double game of the old theatrics, susceptible practitioners of the sacred - nor will they condemn the innocent and needy (Mt 12:7).

In Mk 2:27 Jesus relativises the commandment: 'The Sabbath was [instituted, has its meaning] for man, and not man for the Sabbath'.

The lovable God establishes a dialogue and friendship with us that invites, gives impetus, gives gusto.

The Tao Tê Ching (xiii) writes:

"To him who makes merit of himself for the sake of the world, the world can be entrusted. To him who cares for himself for the sake of the world, one can trust the world'.

To the bondage of customs, Christ opposes a looseness that makes the encounter between God and his people more agile, more spontaneous, richer and more personal.

It is the outcome of a messianic consciousness that is precisely that of a "Son of Man" (v.5): greater than the Temple (cf. Mt 12:6) because incarnate.

In this way, transmissible to us, His brothers and friends - united to Him and intimate by faith.

After the call of Levi, the meal with sinners and the controversy over fasting, the Master presents Himself to the Pharisees in the regal guise of David setting out to conquer the alternative "Kingdom", even with a small handful of followers.

A trail of light - even for us - in the face of the current pastoral meltdown.

In the time of the global crisis that seems to mortgage the future (we still try to calculate it by directing it a priori, according to selective interests), the challenge is more open than ever.The contrast on Justice

"It is precisely because of this personal experience of his relationship with Jesus Christ that Paul now places at the heart of his Gospel an irreducible opposition between two alternative paths to justice: one built on the works of the Law, the other founded on the grace of faith in Christ. The alternative between righteousness by the works of the Law and righteousness by faith in Christ thus becomes one of the dominant motifs running through his Epistles: "We, who by birth are Jews and not sinful pagans, yet knowing that man is not justified by the works of the Law, but only by faith in Jesus Christ, have also believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the Law; for by the works of the Law no one will ever be justified" (Gal 2:15-16). And to the Christians of Rome he reiterates that 'all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, but are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus (Rom 3:23-24). He adds, "For we hold that man is justified by faith, regardless of the works of the Law" (Ibid 28). Luther at this point translated: 'justified by faith alone'. I will return to this point at the end of the catechesis. First we must clarify what this "Law" is from which we are liberated and what those "works of the Law" are that do not justify. Already in the community of Corinth there was an opinion that would later return systematically in history; the opinion was that it was the moral law and that Christian freedom therefore consisted in liberation from ethics. Thus the word 'πάντα μοι έξεστιν' (everything is permissible for me) circulated in Corinth. It is obvious that this interpretation is wrong: Christian freedom is not libertinism, the liberation of which St Paul speaks is not liberation from doing good.

But what then is the Law from which we are liberated and which does not save? For St Paul, as for all his contemporaries, the word Law meant the Torah in its entirety, that is, the five books of Moses. The Torah implied, in the Pharisaic interpretation, the one studied and made his own by Paul, a complex of behaviours ranging from the ethical core to the ritual and cultic observances that substantially determined the identity of the righteous man. Particularly circumcision, observances about pure food and generally ritual purity, rules about Sabbath observance, etc. Behaviours that also frequently appear in the debates between Jesus and his contemporaries. All these observances expressing a social, cultural and religious identity had become singularly important by the time of the Hellenistic culture, beginning in the 3rd century BC. This culture, which had become the universal culture of the time, and was an apparently rational, polytheistic, apparently tolerant culture, constituted a strong pressure towards cultural uniformity and thus threatened the identity of Israel, which was politically forced into this common identity of the Hellenistic culture, resulting in the loss of its own identity, and thus also the loss of the precious inheritance of the faith of the Fathers, of faith in the one God and the promises of God.

Against this cultural pressure, which threatened not only Israelite identity, but also faith in the one God and His promises, it was necessary to create a wall of distinction, a shield of defence to protect the precious inheritance of faith; this wall consisted precisely of Jewish observances and prescriptions. Paul, who had learnt of these observances precisely in their defensive function of God's gift, of the inheritance of faith in one God, saw this identity threatened by the freedom of Christians: he persecuted them for this reason. At the moment of his encounter with the Risen One he realised that with Christ's resurrection the situation had changed radically. With Christ, the God of Israel, the one true God, became the God of all peoples. The wall - so he says in the Letter to the Ephesians - between Israel and the pagans was no longer necessary: it is Christ who protects us against polytheism and all its deviations; it is Christ who unites us with and in the one God; it is Christ who guarantees our true identity in the diversity of cultures. The wall is no longer necessary; our common identity in the diversity of cultures is Christ, and it is he who makes us righteous. To be just is simply to be with Christ and in Christ. And that is enough. Other observances are no longer necessary. That is why Luther's expression 'sola fide' is true, if faith is not opposed to charity, to love. Faith is to look to Christ, to entrust oneself to Christ, to attach oneself to Christ, to conform oneself to Christ, to his life. And the form, the life of Christ is love; therefore to believe is to conform oneself to Christ and to enter into his love. That is why St Paul in the Epistle to the Galatians, in which he especially developed his doctrine on justification, speaks of faith working through charity (cf. Gal 5:14).

Paul knows that in the twofold love of God and neighbour the whole Law is present and fulfilled. Thus in communion with Christ, in the faith that creates charity, the whole Law is fulfilled. We become righteous by entering into communion with Christ who is love".

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 19 November 2008].

To internalise and live the message:

Have you felt oppression or exclusion in the name of the Law?

Do you feel it was for offending God or for daring to disturb something or question someone and their cultural paradigm?

How did you perceive you were reliving Christ in the looseness of norms?

What conflicts are a source of discussion and ecclesial controversy that you feel create detachment and suffering around you?

It is precisely because of this personal experience of relationship with Jesus Christ that Paul henceforth places at the centre of his Gospel an irreducible opposition between the two alternative paths to justice: one built on the works of the Law, the other founded on the grace of faith in Christ. The alternative between justice by means of works of the Law and that by faith in Christ thus became one of the dominant themes that run through his Letters: "We ourselves, who are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners, yet who know that a man is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus in order to be justified by faith in Christ, and not by works of the law; because by works of the law no one will be justified" (Gal 2: 15-16). And to the Christians of Rome he reasserts that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus" (Rm 3: 23-24). And he adds "we hold that a man is justified by faith apart from works of the law" (ibid., v. 28). At this point Luther translated: "justified by faith alone". I shall return to this point at the end of the Catechesis. First, we must explain what is this "Law" from which we are freed and what are those "works of the Law" that do not justify. The opinion that was to recur systematically in history already existed in the community at Corinth. This opinion consisted in thinking that it was a question of moral law and that the Christian freedom thus consisted in the liberation from ethics. Thus in Corinth the term "πάντα μοι έξεστιν" (I can do what I like) was widespread. It is obvious that this interpretation is wrong: Christian freedom is not libertinism; the liberation of which St Paul spoke is not liberation from good works.

So what does the Law from which we are liberated and which does not save mean? For St Paul, as for all his contemporaries, the word "Law" meant the Torah in its totality, that is, the five books of Moses. The Torah, in the Pharisaic interpretation, that which Paul had studied and made his own, was a complex set of conduct codes that ranged from the ethical nucleus to observances of rites and worship and that essentially determined the identity of the just person. In particular, these included circumcision, observances concerning pure food and ritual purity in general, the rules regarding the observance of the Sabbath, etc. codes of conduct that also appear frequently in the debates between Jesus and his contemporaries. All of these observances that express a social, cultural and religious identity had become uniquely important in the time of Hellenistic culture, starting from the third century B.C. This culture which had become the universal culture of that time and was a seemingly rational culture; a polytheistic culture, seemingly tolerant constituted a strong pressure for cultural uniformity and thus threatened the identity of Israel, which was politically constrained to enter into this common identity of the Hellenistic culture. This resulted in the loss of its own identity, hence also the loss of the precious heritage of the faith of the Fathers, of the faith in the one God and in the promises of God.

Against this cultural pressure, which not only threatened the Israelite identity but also the faith in the one God and in his promises, it was necessary to create a wall of distinction, a shield of defence to protect the precious heritage of the faith; this wall consisted precisely in the Judaic observances and prescriptions. Paul, who had learned these observances in their role of defending God's gift, of the inheritance of faith in one God alone, saw this identity threatened by the freedom of the Christians this is why he persecuted them. At the moment of his encounter with the Risen One he understood that with Christ's Resurrection the situation had changed radically. With Christ, the God of Israel, the one true God, became the God of all peoples. The wall as he says in his Letter to the Ephesians between Israel and the Gentiles, was no longer necessary: it is Christ who protects us from polytheism and all of its deviations; it is Christ who unites us with and in the one God; it is Christ who guarantees our true identity within the diversity of cultures. The wall is no longer necessary; our common identity within the diversity of cultures is Christ, and it is he who makes us just. Being just simply means being with Christ and in Christ. And this suffices. Further observances are no longer necessary. For this reason Luther's phrase: "faith alone" is true, if it is not opposed to faith in charity, in love. Faith is looking at Christ, entrusting oneself to Christ, being united to Christ, conformed to Christ, to his life. And the form, the life of Christ, is love; hence to believe is to conform to Christ and to enter into his love. So it is that in the Letter to the Galatians in which he primarily developed his teaching on justification St Paul speaks of faith that works through love (cf. Gal 5: 14).

Paul knows that in the twofold love of God and neighbour the whole of the Law is present and carried out. Thus in communion with Christ, in a faith that creates charity, the entire Law is fulfilled. We become just by entering into communion with Christ who is Love.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 19 November 2008]

God revealed himself in Christ, in him he offered himself to man as his true destiny, as his eternal dwelling, in time and in eternity.

Destiny is "vocation", that is, a call to bind oneself and to remain united to God, who wanted to bind himself to us so that we might have life in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10).

To follow Christ, one does not have to be a superman, or perform superhuman deeds. The young Christian, certainly, stands out from the crowd, but not by outward appearance, but by the way he thinks and acts. He is different inside, in his heart, and this is reflected on the outside, in his way of behaving, speaking, dealing with others, in every everyday situation.

[Pope John Paul II, Address to Young People, Catania 5 November 1994]

There are "two roads". And it is Jesus himself, with his "gestures of closeness", who gives us the right indication as to which one to take. On the one hand, in fact, there is the road of the "hypocrites", who close their doors because of their attachment to the "letter of the law". On the other, however, there is "the road of charity", which passes "from love to the true justice that is within the law". Pope Francis said this at the Mass celebrated on Friday morning, 31 October, in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta.

In practice, the Pontiff said, "these people were so attached to the law that they had forgotten justice; so attached to the law that they had forgotten love". But 'not only to the law; they were attached to the words, to the letters of the law'.

Precisely this way "of living, attached to the law, distanced them from love and justice: they cared for the law, they neglected justice; they cared for the law, they neglected love". Yet "they were the models". But "Jesus finds only one word for these people: hypocrites!". One cannot, in fact, go "into all the world looking for proselytes" and then close "the door". For the Lord was dealing with "men of closure, men so attached to the law, to the letter of the law: not to the law", because "the law is love", but "to the letter of the law". They were men "who always closed the doors of hope, of love, of salvation, men who only knew how to close".

Only "in the flesh of Christ", in fact, does the law "have full fulfilment". Because "the flesh of Christ knows how to suffer, he gave his life for us". While "the letter is cold."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 01/11/2014]

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [31 August 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us. For many, the holiday season is coming to an end and we are preparing to resume our normal rhythm of life. The Word of God comes to us with appropriate advice. 

*First Reading from the Book of Sirach (3:17-18, 20, 28-29 NV 3:19-21, 30, 31) 

This text becomes clearer if we begin reading it from the end: 'The wise heart meditates on parables, and an attentive ear is what the wise man desires' (v. 29). When the Bible speaks of wisdom, it means the art of living happily. Being a 'wise man' is the ideal of everyone in Israel: such a small people, born as a 'people' only at the time of the exodus from Egypt, has the privilege, thanks to Revelation, of knowing that 'all wisdom comes from the Lord' (Sir 1:1), in the sense that only God knows the mysteries of life and the secret of happiness. It is therefore to the Lord that we must ask for wisdom because, in his sovereign freedom, he chose Israel to be the repository of his wisdom. Yeshua Ben Sira (Jesus son of Sira), the author of the book, makes wisdom itself speak as if it were a person (cf. Sir 24:8); Israel seeks wisdom every day (cf. Sir 51:14) and, according to Psalm 1, finds its happiness in it: ' Blessed is the man who meditates on the law of the Lord day and night (1:2). 'Day and night' means always. Those who seek will find, Jesus will later say: but one must seek, that is, recognise that one does not possess everything and is always in need of something. Ben Sira had opened a school of theology (beth midrash) in Jerusalem around 180 BC and, to promote it, he said: "Come to me, you who are uneducated, and dwell in my school" (Sir 51:23). A true son of Israel knows that wisdom comes from God, allows himself to be taught by Him, meditates on the maxims of wisdom, and his ideal is an ear that listens. Israel has treasured this lesson so much that it recites the "Shema' Israel, Hear, O Israel" (Deut 6:4) several times a day. An "open ear" means listening to advice, instructions, commandments; the proud, on the other hand, believe they know everything and close their ears, but they forget that if the house has its shutters closed, the sun cannot enter. We read in verse 28: "There is no remedy for the miserable condition of the proud, for the plant of evil is rooted in them." In other words, the proud are incurably sick because, being full of themselves, they close their hearts. The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Lk 18) is interesting in this regard: the tax collector limited himself to being true because the humble have their feet on the ground and therefore recognise themselves as poor and rely only on God. The Pharisee, self-sufficient in everything, returned home as he had come, while the tax collector was transformed. Isaiah describes the joy of these humble people: ' The humble will rejoice more and more in the Lord, and the poor will exult because of the Holy One of Israel" (Isaiah 29:19), and Jesus will exclaim: "I praise you, Father... because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealed them to the little ones" (Matthew 11:25 // Luke 10:21). God can accomplish great things with the humble, making them servants of his plan, as with Moses, his great and tireless servant, whose secret, as we read in the book of Numbers, was that he was a very humble man, more than anyone else on earth" (12:3), and Jesus, the Servant of God, says of himself: "I am gentle and humble in heart" (Mt 11:29), while Paul writes: "If I must boast, I will boast of my weakness... The Lord has told me... for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Cor 11:30; 12:9). Ultimately, humility is more than a virtue: it is a vital minimum and a prerequisite.

*Responsorial Psalm (67/68) 

"The Lord is his name" (v. 5), this very short phrase sets the tone for the whole: "Lord" is the tetragrammaton (YHWH) revealed to Moses, which expresses God's permanent presence among his people: "Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh" (I am who I am). And since He surrounds us at all times with His care, each of the verses can be read on several levels, and the richness and complexity of this psalm lies in being able to sing it in every age and feel involved. "The righteous rejoice, they exult before God and sing for joy. Sing to God, praise His name. Lord is His name" (vv. 4-5). David also dances before the Ark, but here we are talking about the joy of the people freed from Egypt: Moses' song after the crossing of the sea; Miriam, sister of Aaron (and Moses), took up the tambourine and all the women went out after her, dancing and playing the tambourine. Later, during the Exodus, there were many reasons to sing and dance. This emerges in the following verses: 'He brings out the prisoners with joy' (7). 'You have poured out abundant rain, O God, you have strengthened your weary inheritance, and your people have dwelt in it, in that which, in your goodness, you have made secure for the poor, O God' (10-11).  Here, different levels of interpretation overlap, but every allusion to liberation always refers to the exodus from Egypt, the return from Babylonian exile, and other liberations, that is, every time that individuals or entire peoples advance towards greater justice and freedom and, finally, the definitive liberation that we still await. "He brings out the prisoners with joy": for us Christians, this is a reminder of Christ's Resurrection, thinking of our own. "You have poured out abundant rain": this reference to the Exodus offers several interpretations: the manna in the desert (cf. Ex 16:4, 13-15) and most likely also the beneficial rain on which all life depends, because without "abundant rain" the promised land does not flow with "milk and honey". In the past, there have been memorable droughts (and therefore famines): the seven years of famine that led Jacob's sons and their father to go down to Egypt to Joseph; the drought in the time of Elijah (1 Kings 17-18) with the harsh confrontation between Elijah and Queen Jezebel, worshipper of Baal, the god of fertility, storms and rain; the famine under Emperor Claudius when the Christian communities of the Mediterranean basin, regions not affected, were invited to provide financial assistance to the victims, and St Paul called on the community of Corinth for their slowness in giving their contribution (cf. 2 Cor 8-9). Finally, we too have reason to give thanks for the new manna, our daily bread: Jesus Christ, the living bread that came down from heaven (Jn 6:48-51).

*Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (12:18-19, 22-24a)

Addressed to Christians of Jewish origin, the Letter to the Hebrews aims to place the New Covenant in its proper perspective in relation to the Old Covenant. With the earthly life, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, the entire past is considered by Christians as a necessary stage in the history of salvation, but now superseded, though not annulled, so that between the First and the New Covenant there is both continuity and radical novelty. In favour of continuity are elements familiar to Israel: Sinai, fire, darkness, gloom, hurricane, trumpets, Zion, Jerusalem, names written in the heavens, judge and justice, covenant with language that evokes the entire spiritual experience of the people of the Covenant and certainly familiar to listeners at that time. (cf. Ex 19:16-19; 20:18, 21; Dt 4:11). Israel feeds on these stories as titles of glory of the people of the Covenant. However, the Letter to the Hebrews seems to downplay this memorable experience because that Covenant has now been completely renewed. Moses approached God, but the people remained at a distance; in the New Covenant, the baptised are introduced into a true intimacy with God, and the author describes this new spiritual experience as entering a new world of beauty and celebration (cf. vv. 22-24). The "fear of God" in the Old Testament was fear in the face of manifestations of power, so much so that the people came to ask not to hear God's voice anymore, but later, little by little, their relationship with God was transformed and fear became filial trust. Those who knew Jesus discovered in him the true face of the Father: "The Spirit himself testifies to our spirit that we are children of God" (Rom 8:15-16). Jesus, therefore, fully fulfils the role of mediator of the New Covenant and allows all the baptised to approach God and become "firstborn" (in the sense of "consecrated"). Thus, the ancient promise to Moses on Sinai: "If you will listen to my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my special possession among all peoples... you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Ex 19:4) is finally fulfilled in Christ, and for this reason we too "let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence" (Heb 4:16).

*From the Gospel according to Luke (14:1a, 7–14)

In Luke's Gospel, there are often scenes of meals: at the home of Simon the Pharisee (7:36); at Martha and Mary's house (10:38); again at the home of a Pharisee (11:37); at Zacchaeus' house (19); the Passover meal (22). The importance that Jesus attached to meals even led his detractors to say, "Here is a glutton and a drunkard" (Lk 7:34). Three of these meals take place in the homes of Pharisees and become occasions for disagreement. During the first, at Simon's house (Lk 7:36), a woman of ill repute threw herself at Jesus' feet and, contrary to all expectations, he took her as an example. The second (Lk 11:37) was also the occasion for a serious misunderstanding, this time because Jesus did not wash his hands before sitting down at the table: the discussion degenerates and Jesus takes advantage of it to launch into a severe diatribe, so much so that the episode ends with the scribes and Pharisees beginning to rage against him, setting traps for him to catch him in the act (cf. Lk 11:53). Today, the third meal in the house of a Pharisee takes place on the Sabbath, a day of rest ('Shabbat' in Hebrew means to cease all activity) and celebration: a memorial of the creation of the world, the liberation of the people from Egypt and the anticipation of the great feast of the Day when God will renew the entire creation. The Sabbath included a solemn meal, often an occasion to invite fellow believers, even though the ritual prohibitions of the Law were so numerous that, for some, observance of the prescriptions had obscured the essential: fraternal charity. On that Sabbath, Jesus had healed a man suffering from dropsy (a scene that does not appear in our liturgical reading: cf. Lk 14:2-6), and lively discussions ensued because Jesus was accused of breaking the Sabbath. Here I pause and ask a question: are the relations between Jesus and the Pharisees always a clash? In truth, they are a mixture of sympathy and severity: sympathy because their religious movement, born around 135 BC out of a desire for conversion, was esteemed, and the name 'Pharisee', which means 'separated', expressed the rejection of any political compromise or laxity in religious practice, two problems that were very present at the time. At the time of Christ, their fervent faith and courage in respecting tradition were appreciated, not in a pejorative sense, but as a treasure received from their fathers and transmitted in the form of precepts concerning the smallest details of daily life. These rules, written down after 70 AD, resemble those of Jesus himself and were therefore so respectable that Jesus did not refuse to speak with them, as demonstrated by these meals and the meeting with Nicodemus (cf. Jn 3). Under Herod the Great (39-4 BC), six thousand of them, in order to remain faithful to the Law, refused to swear allegiance to Rome and Herod and were punished with heavy fines. However, their strict observance sometimes led to excessive self-confidence and contempt for others, and Jesus reacted to this because it created certain ambiguities and deviations, well symbolised in the parable of the speck and the log (Mt 7:3-5; Lk 6:41-42). In today's text, Jesus invites us not to occupy the first places, not to recall a norm of good manners and philanthropy, but, in the manner of the prophets, he seeks to open their eyes before it is too late, because excessive self-satisfaction can lead to blindness. And so, precisely because they are people of value and faithful practitioners of the Jewish religion, Jesus unmasks the risk of their contempt for others by reminding them that to enter the Kingdom, they must become like children (cf. Lk 9:46-48; Mt 18:4), welcoming and respecting them without expecting anything in return and, indeed, opening one's heart to the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind (v. 13). This is a lesson for the Pharisees of yesterday and today, bearing in mind what St James writes: never mix personal favouritism with faith in Christ (cf. Jas 2:1).

+ Giovanni D'Ercole