(Jn 8:31-42)

In the opinion of many Jews, the inheritance they had received was far more precious and reassuring than any decent teaching anyone could impart.

But believers in Christ realise that on the horizon of a saved life, descent is not a prerequisite for superiority, nor does it guarantee any place of prominence in God's order of things.

Not only does ancient religion not grant privileged automatic access, it is incomplete and deficient. It takes away the freedom it promises to bestow upon believers in a superabundant manner.

[The harmonious relationship with Heaven, with oneself and with events, does not take place out of loyalty to cultural or self-dominating principles - which can make themselves the guarantors of total truth].

What then is the relationship between Jesus and Abraham, the father of faith? What is the disciple's relationship with the history of the chosen people, hence with the religion of the patriarchs?

The first Christians experienced that from fidelity to the Word of the Lord came an unusual and precious autonomy; an openness to God that no creed claiming independence already knew.

The relationship of Faith introduces one into a more qualified, personally charged and real - in itself conforming even to the inexperienced and novice: still foreign to any circle of the chosen and experienced.

So what does it mean to be children of Abraham? There are those who imagine they have the 'document' in place, but do not understand that a fixed identity is a trap of vitality. It rejects the Father's design.

Christ's intimates introduce into salvation history an inverted criterion of 'theological prostitution' [cf. v.41: 'fornication'] based on divine wealth. Another kind of covenant.

The follower of Jesus understands that reality has many faces, and he himself has many faces: he is called to integrate them, for a completeness freed from constraints that stagnate in one-sidedness.

Although they are both at home, the 'son' is a blood relative - he does not remain a servant like the slave (of the descendants).

The God of the chosen people says to Abraham: "Go!". It is an order.

The Son proposes: "Come!". It is a throb of communion, which crosses the fence and unfolds the self, regenerating it in the unceasing We.

It is a family virtue that guarantees the overcoming of difficulties, harmonious growth, and fruitful friendship with the problems - as well as the aggressions - that seem to scatter us.

Even under the action of epochal upheavals of established cultures and beliefs, the God-family member can let go, avoiding the phenomenon that stiffens.

For harmonious growth, it is never enough to be grounded in traditions and ways of doing things - even 'contemporary' and approved ways.

One must open oneself up to a new experience, break free from the excess of control, fashion and circles. Whoever grasps himself liberated freely, rests on another platform of being.

It is the adherence of life that convinces one to remain in the Father's dwelling, and there to deposit everything - not the adult inflaming of special circumstances, or even opposition.

While exposing ourselves (as witnesses and prophets), such a habit mitigates fears. It makes us One with the Truth-Fidelity of God.

And we start from that founding core - in which we find our presence, our capacities, our authentic beginnings. Which are not the artificial ones of the 'fathers', or glamour, but ours authentically, and the Father's.

Such a truly ancient hearth side where we learn silence, motive, as well as the embrace of complete life - it helps to break the patterns of existence in all controlled by the cloak of clichés around us.

Being in the Son dissolves from external opinions, from a blanket of 'proper' manners, and from the bundle of "descent" (vv.33.37ff).

Tara not reworked, nor assimilated and made one's own; typical of subordinates, who lack profound experience.

Disciples are neither plagiarised nor indistinct.

Even those who are characterised by promiscuous baggage are actually inspired. As such, they become limpid, disinclined to seduction and compromise.

Emancipated from hammering constraints, they grasp differences and break through boundaries.

The slave of customary devotion and clichés lives under condemnation, because he is too closed within the perimeters.

He seems settled, but so out of home: thus in a reality that stagnates, or advances in an epidermic, moralistic, (in fact) confusing way. Accentuating and emphasising limits.

The son, on the other hand, conquers spaces of the unprecedented; he emancipates himself from the selfishness that annihilates communion, from the self-love that refuses to listen, from the standardisation that cancels uniqueness, from the conformism that makes exceptionalism pale, from the envy that separates and blocks the exchange of gifts, from the competition, even spiritual, that drugs us, from the sloth that discourages and paralyses.

The God of ancient religions is a principal, a pivotal figure of submission and domestication that enervates. 

The Father is the principle of the Freedom that proceeds against the current, without fear of mixing and heterogeneity (vv.41.43).

He enables his children - even hybrids - to rediscover the roots of the sacred sap that animates them, and to encounter the unrepeatable characters that are hidden in their great Desire.

"If ye abide in my word, ye are my disciples indeed, and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free" (Jn 8.31).

Deepening: Spirit of Truth

Satisfying solutions or Spirit of Truth

(Jn 15:26-16:4a)

Faith in the Master is already eternal life, or rather Life of the Eternal (in action here and now).

He himself is Bread of authentic and indestructible existence, though still earthly.

In short, the intimate life of God reaches us in our time.

The first step is a Faith that gives a Vision; an irruption of the Spirit that gives birth from above, thus animating a different - not empty - existence.

The sign of such adherence is to believe Jesus as Son: man manifesting the divine condition.

Christ is Bread of Life also because His Word is creative, and the path of following Him transmits to us the qualities of indestructible Life.

The outpouring of the Spirit arouses in us the same pulsating Heart of the Eternal, which we experience in the deaths and resurrections of daily life and in the long rigmarole of the Vocation (repeated from path to path).

Even in persecution, whoever sees the Son has the Life of the Eternal within him - which always regenerates and disposes new births, other premises and questions, different paths, in an uninterrupted and growing form.

The passion for the Friend unites us to Him, Bread: that is, the Revealer of the Truth that satiates men on their journey towards themselves and the world, who sometimes change their skin, opinions, lifestyles.

In the Vision, we are empowered to directly appropriate, thus attracting and realising the Newness of God - even in advance, wisely.

Through Him, we have a part... in the Father's love for the Son who manifests Himself as personal Lord, and in the outgoing dilated life of the authentic Church.

The "hidden" God of the First Testament, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, now presents itself in the specifics of the Faith, without the need for fatuous fires to support it.

Because the world of God (in the soul) is different.

One does not enter the Mystery with normal intentions and perfect expectations, let alone success and recognition.

In this case (in the Gospel passage) the apostles' incomprehension comes into the picture.

Indeed, even to us, Jesus' way of manifesting himself often does not seem decipherable.

Even the Jews [actually: the returning Judaizers in the communities of the late 1st century] were waiting to catch him in an overt way, perhaps on a public occasion.

Instead, even in times of 'glorification', the Master seems to want to trace the outward (humble) inappearance of his earthly ministry.

Many expected sensational fireworks in that period they considered 'final'. Instead, no yielding to ideology of power or religion-show.

So things did not go as expected: doubts were not dispelled, ambiguities were not dispelled; the titles of Israel's former nationalist and imperial glory did not reappear at all, on the contrary!

Even today, the choice of Faith is not given to the apparatuses that would guarantee its visibility: no parachutes, no discounts.

Everything then seems to proceed as before, in the summary: to toil for a living and buy, to travel and not, to laugh and cry, to get sick and get well, to work and party... so on and so forth, often in (seemingly senseless) pain; perhaps without any decisive turning points.

But in the same things as always there is a different Light, planted on a new, immediate, relationship of needy humanity with the Father who regenerates us.

He stimulates new Births, to reconnect desires, deep needs, external paths, and increase the intensity of life.

And it is in the mutual knowledge of the roots and furrows of reality that this circle of love between God and his children exists in the first place.

All that has not yet been understood will be recalled by the action of the Spirit. The only reliable impetus, which does not point to vain things.

A relationship between man and Heaven within us, not above.

A friendship that does not primarily contemplate resignation, effort, humiliation... but is reworked in deepening.

This is where the true scope of our hearts - so limited, yet endowed with a mysterious imprint - for the complete, yet personal, life of character comes into play.

In order to avoid intimidation, marginalisation and annoyance, some church members advocated a kind of alliance between Jesus and the Empire, proclaiming a Christ so vague and untethered that he would not scratch anyone.

Some ambitious, 'life-in-the-spirit' troublemakers felt that the time had come to shake off the earthly affair of the carpenter's son - considered weak in itself, short-lived, out of place and time; already extinguished. 

Jn intends to rebalance the attempt to proclaim, diluted in compromises.

The evangelist emphasises that the Risen One is the cipher and engine that bears the soul and generates us in today.

He is the same Son of God who sustained a harsh denunciation and several battles with the authorities.

To the opportunists of his time, the Master had dared to touch positions, vanity and the bag of commerce.

Therefore persecuted, tried, vilified, condemned as subversive, and cursed by God.

In short, the Holy Spirit does not go after butterflies.

The action of the Spirit (which internalises and actualises) and the historical memory of Jesus must always be combined.

Only in such a frank perspective is it possible to grasp the Truth of the Eternal and the Truth of Man in all times and circumstances.

In addition: the Father is the Creator of each of our deepest inclinations, to which he affixes an indelible signature.

It manifests itself in an innate instinct, which wants to germinate, find space, express itself.

We have rooted in our innermost being a unique, invincible Vocation and (plural) faces.

We cannot deny ourselves, our Roots - even where an open-faced testimony would be unattractive.

The Truth about each of us is consequential.

By Grace, we are repositories of an astounding dignity, which even in error (or what is considered error) imparts exceptional desires.

Truth that still restores dreams: an unprecedented hope that activates enthralling passions.

In vain would we have peace and happiness by seeking cultural and social concord, or by playing roles, characters, tasks that do not belong to us - albeit appeasing.

We would become outsiders.

Truth: Faithfulness to God in Christ. And candour in every choice, with our character in relationship and situation.

The rest is calculation and deep disturbance, which will leave us disassociated and sick inside.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you take a stand and face the consequences? When your vocational character is at stake, do you confront and put your face to it or do you blend in?

Do you play coy, value reciprocation, and seek tribute or protection from satisfactory synagogues? Or do you wish to unite your life with Christ?

Freedom Responsibility

"Abba, Father!" (Rom 8:15). What does this mean? St Paul assumes the social system of the ancient world, in which there were the slaves, to whom nothing belonged and who therefore could not be interested in the right course of things. Correspondingly, there were the sons who were also the heirs and who were therefore concerned with the preservation and good administration of their property or the preservation of the state. Since they were free, they also had a responsibility. Regardless of the sociological background of that time, the principle always applies: freedom and responsibility go together. True freedom is demonstrated in responsibility, in a way of acting that assumes co-responsibility for the world, for oneself and for others. Free is the son, to whom the thing belongs and who therefore does not allow it to be destroyed. All worldly responsibilities, of which we have spoken, are, however, partial responsibilities, for a specific sphere, a specific state, etc. The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, makes us sons and daughters of God. He draws us into the same responsibility as God for his world, for the whole of humanity. He teaches us to look at the world, at each other and at ourselves with God's eyes. We do good not as slaves who are not free to do otherwise, but we do it because we personally bear responsibility for the world; because we love truth and goodness, because we love God himself and thus also his creatures. This is true freedom, to which the Holy Spirit wants to lead us. The Church Movements want and must be schools of freedom, of this true freedom. There we want to learn this true freedom, not the freedom of slaves, which aims to cut a slice of everyone's cake for itself, even if this is then lacking for the other. We desire true and great freedom, the freedom of heirs, the freedom of God's children. In this world, so full of fictitious freedoms that destroy the environment and mankind, we want, with the power of the Holy Spirit, to learn true freedom together; to build schools of freedom; to show others with our lives that we are free and how beautiful it is to be truly free in the true freedom of the children of God.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil 3 June 2006].

"The truth will make you free" (Jn 8:32)

3. The continuous contamination with deceptive language ends up blurring the inner self of the person. Dostoevsky wrote something remarkable in this regard: "He who lies to himself and listens to his own lies comes to the point where he can no longer distinguish the truth, either within himself or around him, and thus begins to have no more esteem either for himself or for others. Then, because he no longer esteems anyone, he also ceases to love, and then, in the absence of love, in order to feel busy and to distract himself he gives himself up to passions and vulgar pleasures, and because of his vices he becomes like a beast; and all this stems from his constant lying, to others and to himself' (The Brothers Karamazov, II, 2).

How then to defend ourselves? The most radical antidote to the virus of falsehood is to allow ourselves to be purified by the truth. In the Christian view, truth is not just a conceptual reality, which concerns judging things, calling them true or false. Truth is not just bringing obscure things to light, "unveiling reality", as the ancient Greek term for it, aletheia (from a-lethès, "not hidden"), leads one to think. Truth has to do with the whole of life. In the Bible, it carries with it the meanings of support, solidity, trust, as the root 'aman, from which the liturgical Amen also comes. Truth is what one can lean on in order not to fall. In this relational sense, the only truly reliable and trustworthy one on whom one can rely, that is, 'true', is the living God. Here is Jesus' affirmation: "I am the truth" (Jn 14:6). Man, then, discovers and rediscovers the truth when he experiences it in himself as the faithfulness and trustworthiness of the one who loves him. Only this liberates man: "The truth will make you free" (Jn 8:32).

Liberation from falsehood and the search for relationship: these are the two ingredients that cannot be lacking for our words and deeds to be true, authentic, trustworthy. In order to discern the truth, we must sift through what supports communion and promotes the good and what, on the contrary, tends to isolate, divide and oppose. Truth, therefore, is not truly gained when it is imposed as something extrinsic and impersonal; instead, it springs from free relationships between people, in mutual listening. Moreover, one never stops searching for truth, because something false can always creep in, even in saying true things. An impeccable argument may indeed rest on undeniable facts, but if it is used to hurt the other person and to discredit him in the eyes of others, however right it may appear, it is not inhabited by truth. From the fruits we can discern the truth of the utterances: whether they stir up controversy, foment division, instil resignation, or whether, on the other hand, they lead to conscious and mature reflection, to constructive dialogue, to fruitful activity.

[Pope Francis, Message 52nd World Communications Day].

"Abba! Father!'" (Rom 8: 15). What does this mean?

St Paul presupposes the social system of the ancient world in which slaves existed. They owned nothing, so they could not be involved in the proper development of things.

Co-respectively, there were sons who were also heirs and were therefore concerned with the preservation and good administration of their property or the preservation of the State. Since they were free, they also had responsibility.

Leaving aside the sociological background of that time, the principle still holds true:  freedom and responsibility go hand in hand. True freedom is demonstrated in responsibility, in a way of behaving in which one takes upon oneself a shared responsibility for the world, for oneself and for others.
The son, to whom things belong and who, consequently, does not let them be destroyed, is free. All the worldly responsibilities of which we have spoken are nevertheless partial responsibilities for a specific area, a specific State, etc.

The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, makes us sons and daughters of God. He involves us in the same responsibility that God has for his world, for the whole of humanity. He teaches us to look at the world, others and ourselves with God's eyes. We do not do good as slaves who are not free to act otherwise, but we do it because we are personally responsible for the world; because we love truth and goodness, because we love God himself and therefore, also his creatures. This is the true freedom to which the Holy Spirit wants to lead us.

The Ecclesial Movements want to and must be schools of freedom, of this true freedom. Let us learn in them this true freedom, not the freedom of slaves that aims to cut itself a slice of the cake that belongs to everyone even if this means that some do not get any.

We want the true, great freedom, the freedom of heirs, the freedom of children of God. In this world, so full of fictitious forms of freedom that destroy the environment and the human being, let us learn true freedom by the power of the Holy Spirit; to build the school of freedom; to show others by our lives that we are free and how beautiful it is to be truly free with the true freedom of God's children.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil 3 June 2006]

1. Christ is the Saviour; he came into the world to set mankind free from the bondage of sin at the price of his paschal sacrifice. We saw this in the previous catechesis. If the concept of "liberation" refers on the one hand to evil, liberated from which we find "salvation", on the other hand it refers to good, for the attainment of which we have been liberated by Christ, the redeemer of man and the world with man and in man. "You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (Jn 8:32). These words of Jesus specify very concisely the good for which man has been set free through the Gospel in the context of Christ's redemption. It is freedom in truth. It constitutes the essential good of salvation, wrought by Christ. Through this good, the kingdom of God is truly "near" to man and his earthly history.

2. The salvific liberation that Christ works towards man contains within itself, in a certain sense, the two dimensions: liberation "from" (evil) and liberation "for" (good), which are intimately united, condition and complement each other.

Returning yet again to the evil from which Christ liberates man - that is, the evil of sin - we must add that through the extraordinary 'signs' of his saving power (that is, the miracles), which he performed by healing the sick from various infirmities, he always indicated, at least indirectly, this essential liberation, which is liberation from sin, its remission. This appears clearly in the healing of the paralytic, to whom Jesus first said: 'Your sins are forgiven you', and only afterwards: 'Get up, take up your bed and go home' (Mk 2:5, 11). Performing this miracle Jesus addressed those around him (especially those who accused him of blasphemy, for only God can forgive sins): "That ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins" (Mk 2:10).

3. In the Acts of the Apostles we read that Jesus "went about doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him" (Acts 10: 38). In fact, it appears from the Gospels that Jesus healed the sick from many infirmities (such as the bent woman who "could not stand upright in any way" [cf. Lk 13:10-16]). When he happened to "cast out evil spirits", if they accused him of doing this with the help of the evil one, he responded by demonstrating the nonsense of such an insinuation and said: "But if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God, surely the kingdom of God has come among you" (Mt 12:28; cf. Lk 11:20). By freeing men from the evil of sin, Jesus unmasks the one who is the "father of sin". It is from him, from the evil spirit, that the "bondage of sin" in which men find themselves begins. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin. Now the slave does not remain in the house forever, but the son remains there always; if therefore the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed" (John 8: 34-36).

4. Faced with the opposition of his listeners, Jesus added: ". . From God I came forth and am coming; I did not come of myself, but he sent me. Why do you not understand my language? Because you cannot listen to my words, you who have the devil for a father, and want to fulfil your father's desires. He has been murderous from the beginning and has not persevered in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaks falsely, he speaks of his own, for he is a liar and the father of lies" (John 8: 42-44). It is difficult to find a text in which the evil of sin is shown so strongly in its root of diabolical falsehood.

5. We hear again the words of Jesus: "If therefore the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed" (Jn 8:36). "If you remain true to my word, you will indeed be my disciples: you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (John 8: 31-32). Jesus Christ came to set mankind free from the evil of sin. This fundamental evil has its beginning in the "father of lies" (as already seen in the book of Genesis) (cf. Gen 3:4). For this reason, deliverance from the evil of sin, working down to its very roots, must be deliverance to the truth and through the truth. Jesus Christ reveals this truth. He himself is "the truth" (John 14: 6). This truth brings with it true freedom. It is freedom from sin and falsehood. Those who were "slaves to sin" because they were under the influence of the "father of lies" are set free through participation in the truth, which is Christ - and in the freedom of the Son of God they themselves attain "the freedom of the children of God" (cf. Rom 8:21). St Paul can assure; "The law of the Spirit which gives life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death" (Rom 8:2).

6. In the same letter to the Romans, the Apostle eloquently presents the human decadence that sin brings with it. Looking at the moral evil of his time, he writes that men, having forgotten God, "have rambled in their reasoning and their dulled minds have grown dull" (Rom 1:21). "They have exchanged the truth of God for lies, and have worshipped and adored the creature instead of the Creator" (Rom 1:25). "And because they have despised the knowledge of God, God has left them at the mercy of a depraved understanding, so that they commit what is unworthy" (Rom 1:28).

7. In other passages of his letter, the Apostle moves from the external description to an analysis of the human interior, where good and evil fight against each other. "I cannot understand even what I do: for it is not what I want that I do, but what I detest. Now if I do what I do not want, I recognise that the law is good; therefore it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me" (Rom 7:15-17). "In my members I see another law, which wages war against the law of my mind and makes me a slave to the law of sin . . .". "I am a wretched man! Who shall deliver me from this body doomed to death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Rom 7:23-25). It follows from this Pauline analysis that sin constitutes a profound alienation; in a certain sense it "makes man a stranger" to himself in his inner "self". Liberation comes with the "grace and truth" (cf. Jn 1:17) brought by Christ.

8. It is clear in what the liberation wrought by Christ consists: to what freedom he has set us free. The liberation wrought by Christ differs from that expected by his contemporaries in Israel. For even before going definitively to the Father, Christ was questioned by those who were closest to him: "Lord, is this the time when you will rebuild the kingdom of Israel?" (Acts 1:6). And so even then - after the experience of the paschal events - they continued to think of deliverance in a political sense: in this respect the Messiah, the descendant of David, was awaited.

9. But the liberation wrought by Christ at the price of his passion and death on the cross, has an essentially different meaning: it is liberation from that which in man's innermost being hinders his relationship with God. At that level sin means slavery; and Christ overcame sin in order to graft the grace of divine sonship, the liberating grace, back into man. "And you have not received a spirit of slaves to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adopted sons by which we cry out, 'Abba, Father!'" (Rom 8:15).

This spiritual liberation, that is, "freedom in the Holy Spirit", is thus the fruit of Christ's saving mission: "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Cor 3:17). In this sense we have "been called to freedom" (Gal 5:13) in Christ and through Christ. "Faith working through charity" (Gal 5:6) is the expression of this freedom.

10. It is a matter of the liberation of the inner man, the "freedom of the heart". Liberation in the social and political sense is not the true messianic work of Christ. On the other hand, it must be realised that without the liberation he brought about, without the liberation of man from sin, and thus from all kinds of selfishness, no real liberation in the socio-political sense can be achieved either. No purely external change of structures leads to any real liberation of society, as long as man is subject to sin and lies, as long as the passions dominate, and with them exploitation and the various forms of oppression.

11. Even what could be called liberation in the psychological sense cannot be fully realised except by the liberating forces that come from Christ. It is part of his work of redemption. Christ alone is "our peace" (Eph 2:14). His grace and love liberate man from existential fear before the meaninglessness of life and from that torment of conscience that is the legacy of man fallen into the bondage of sin.

12. The liberation wrought by Christ with the truth of his gospel, and definitively with the gospel of his cross and resurrection, while retaining its primarily spiritual and "interior" character, can extend over a universal range of action, and is intended for all men. The words "for by grace you have been saved" (Eph 2:5) concern everyone. At the same time, however, this deliverance, which is "a grace", i.e. a gift, cannot be accomplished without man's participation. Man must welcome it with faith, hope and charity. He must "await his salvation with fear and trembling" (cf. Phil 2:12). "For it is God who awakens in you the willing and working according to his gracious designs" (Phil 2:13). Aware of this supernatural gift, we ourselves must cooperate with the liberating power of God, which through Christ's redeeming sacrifice has entered the world as the eternal source of salvation.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 3 August 1988]

3. Constant contamination by deceptive language can end up darkening our interior life. Dostoevsky’s observation is illuminating: “People who lie to themselves and listen to their own lie come to such a pass that they cannot distinguish the truth within them, or around them, and so lose all respect for themselves and for others. And having no respect, they cease to love, and in order to occupy and distract themselves without love they give way to passions and to coarse pleasures, and sink to bestiality in their vices, all from continual lying to others and to themselves”. (The Brothers Karamazov, II, 2).

So how do we defend ourselves? The most radical antidote to the virus of falsehood is purification by the truth. In Christianity, truth is not just a conceptual reality that regards how we judge things, defining them as true or false. The truth is not just bringing to light things that are concealed, “revealing reality”, as the ancient Greek term aletheia (from a-lethès, “not hidden”) might lead us to believe. Truth involves our whole life. In the Bible, it carries with it the sense of support, solidity, and trust, as implied by the root 'aman, the source of our liturgical expression Amen. Truth is something you can lean on, so as not to fall. In this relational sense, the only truly reliable and trustworthy One – the One on whom we can count – is the living God. Hence, Jesus can say: “I am the truth” (Jn 14: 6). We discover and rediscover the truth when we experience it within ourselves in the loyalty and trustworthiness of the One Who loves us. This alone can liberate us: “The truth will set you free” (Jn 8: 32).

Freedom from falsehood and the search for relationship: these two ingredients cannot be lacking if our words and gestures are to be true, authentic, and trustworthy. To discern the truth, we need to discern everything that encourages communion and promotes goodness from whatever instead tends to isolate, divide, and oppose. Truth, therefore, is not really grasped when it is imposed from without as something impersonal, but only when it flows from free relationships between persons, from listening to one another. Nor can we ever stop seeking the truth, because falsehood can always creep in, even when we state things that are true. An impeccable argument can indeed rest on undeniable facts, but if it is used to hurt another and to discredit that person in the eyes of others, however correct it may appear, it is not truthful. We can recognize the truth of statements from their fruits: whether they provoke quarrels, foment division, encourage resignation; or, on the other hand, they promote informed and mature reflection leading to constructive dialogue and fruitful results.

[Pope Francis, Message 52nd World Communications Day]

Today, 25 March, we are in the heart of the Jubilee contemplating the mystery of the Annunciation and Incarnation of the Word. It used to be a predominantly Marian feast, as it still appears in many popular religious traditions. With the liturgical reform, it was highlighted as an important Christological solemnity that immerses us in the heart of the Incarnation of the eternal Word: God becoming man for our salvation. The presence of Mary - The Annunciation - as the one who with her 'yes' made the mystery of our salvation possible, the miracle of the Incarnation, always remains strong; and she invites each one of us to unite our 'yes' to hers, aware that only in humility is the human heart capable of responding to God's call.

IV Sunday in Lent (year C) [30 March 2025] 

*First Reading From the book of Joshua (5, 9a 10- 12)

Moses did not enter the promised land because he died on Mount Nebo, at the Dead Sea, on the side that today corresponds to the Jordanian shore. It was therefore not he who introduced the people of Israel into Palestine, but his servant and successor Joshua. The whole book of Joshua recounts the entry of the people into the promised land, starting with the crossing of the Jordan since the tribes of Israel entered Palestine from the east. The aim of the writer of this book is quite clear: if the author recalls God's work for Israel, it is to exhort the people to faithfulness. Within the few lines of today's text lies a real sermon that is divided into two teachings: firstly, we must never forget that God has delivered the people from Egypt; and secondly, if he has delivered them, it is to give them this land as he promised our fathers. We receive everything from God, but when we forget this, we put ourselves in dead-end situations. This is why the text draws continuous parallels between leaving Egypt, life in the desert and entering Canaan. For example, in chapter 3 of the book of Joshua, the crossing of the Jordan is solemnly recounted as a repetition of the Red Sea miracle. In this Sunday's text, the author insists on the Passover: "they celebrated the Passover, on the fourteenth day of the month, in the evening". Just as the celebration of the Passover had marked the exit from Egypt and the Red Sea miracle, the Passover now follows the entry into the promised land and the Jordan miracle. These are intentional parallels by which the author wants to say that, from the beginning to the end of this incredible adventure, it is the same God who acts to free his people, in view of the promised land. The book of Joshua comes immediately after Deuteronomy. "Joshua" is not his name, but the nickname given to him by Moses: at first, he was simply called "Hoshéa", "Hosea" meaning "He saves" and the new name, "Joshua" ("Yeoshoua") contains the name of God to indicate more explicitly that only God saves. Joshua after all understood that he alone cannot deliver his people. The second part of today's text is surprising because on the surface it speaks only of food, but there is much more: "On the day after the Passover, they ate the produce of that land: unleavened and toasted wheat. And from the next day, as they had eaten, the manna ceased. The Israelites had no more manna: that year they ate the fruits of the land of Canaan." This change of food suggests a weaning: a new page is turned, a new life begins and the desert period with its difficulties, recriminations and even miraculous solutions ends. Now Israel, having arrived in the God-given land, will no longer be nomads, but a sedentary people of farmers feeding on the products of the soil; an adult people responsible for its own subsistence. Having the means to provide for themselves, God does not replace them because he has great respect for their freedom. However, this people will not forget the manna and will retain the lesson: just as the Lord provided in the desert, so Israel must become solicitous towards those who for various reasons are in need. It is clearly stated in the Book of Deuteronomy: God has taught us to feed the poor by sending down bread from heaven for the children of Israel, and now it is up to us to do the same (cf. Deut.34:6). Finally, the crossing of the Jordan and the entry into the promised land, the land of freedom, helps us to better understand Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, which will become the sign of the new entry into the true land of freedom. 

*Responsorial Psalm (33 (34) 2-3, 4-5, 6-7)

In this psalm, as in others, each verse is constructed in two lines in dialogue and ideally it should be sung in two alternating choruses, line by line. It is composed of 22 verses corresponding to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet, in poetry called an acrostic: each letter of the alphabet is placed vertically in front of each verse, beginning with the corresponding letter in the margin. This procedure, quite frequent in psalms, indicates that we are dealing with a psalm of thanksgiving for the covenant. We could say that it is a response to the first reading from the book of Joshua, where although it tells a story, there is actually an invitation to give thanks for all that God has accomplished for Israel.  The language of thanksgiving is omnipresent, as is evident in the first verses: 'I will bless the Lord at all times ... on my lips always his praise ... magnify the Lord with me ... let us exalt his name together'. The speaker is Israel, witness to the work of God: a God who responds, frees, listens, saves: "I sought the Lord: he answered me; from all fear he delivered me... this poor man cries out and the Lord listens to him: he saves him from all his anguish."  This attention of God emerges in the passage from chapter 3 of Exodus, which was the first reading of last Sunday, the third of Lent i.e. the episode of the burning bush: "I have seen the misery of my people... their cry has reached me... I know their sufferings." Israel is the poor liberated by God's mercy, as we read in this psalm, and has discovered its twofold mission: firstly, to teach all the humble about faith, understood as a dialogue between God and man who cries out his distress and God hears him, liberates him and comes to his aid; secondly, to be willing to collaborate with God's work. Just as Moses and Joshua were God's instruments to deliver his people and bring them into the promised land, so Israel will be the attentive ear to the poor and the instrument of God's concern for them: 'let the poor hear and rejoice'. Israel must echo down the centuries this cry, which is an interwoven polyphony of suffering, praise and hope to alleviate all forms of poverty. It is necessary, however, to be poor in heart with the realism of recognising ourselves as small and to invoke God for help in the certainty that he accompanies us in every circumstance to help us face life's obstacles. 

*Second Reading from the Second Epistle of St Paul to the Corinthians (5:17-21)

This text can be understood in two ways and everything revolves around the central phrase: "not imputing (God) to men their faults" (v.19) which can have two meanings. The first: since the beginning of the world, God has kept count of men's sins, but, in his great mercy, he agreed to wipe them out through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and this is what is known as 'substitution', i.e. Jesus took on in our place a debt too great for us. Secondly, God has never counted the sins of men, and Christ came into the world to show us that God has always been love and forgiveness, as we read in Psalm 102 (103): "God turns away our sins from us". The whole path of biblical revelation moves us from the first hypothesis to the second, and in order to understand it better, we need to answer these three questions: Does God keep count of our sins? Can we speak of 'substitution' in the death of Christ? If God does not reckon with us and if we cannot speak of 'substitution', how should we interpret this text of Paul?

First: Does God keep count of our sins? At the beginning of the covenant history, Israel was certainly convinced of this and it is clear why. Man cannot discover God unless God himself reveals himself to him. To Abraham God does not speak of sin, but of covenant, of promise, of blessing, of descent, and never does the word 'merit' appear. "Abraham had faith in the Lord and it was credited to him as righteousness" (Gen 15:6), so faith is the only thing that counts. God does not keep track of our actions, which does not mean that we can do anything, because we are responsible for building the Kingdom. To Moses, the Lord reveals himself as merciful and forgiving, slow to anger and rich in love (cf. Ex 34:6). David, precisely on the occasion of his sin, understands that God's forgiveness precedes even our repentance and Isaiah observes that God surprises us because His thoughts are not our thoughts: He is only forgiveness for sinners (cf. Is 55:6-8). In the Old Testament, the chosen people already knew that God is tenderness and forgiveness and called him Father long before we did. The parable of Jonah, for example, was written precisely to show that God cares even for the Ninevites, Israel's historical enemies.

Second: Can one speak of 'substitution' in the death of Christ? If God does not keep count of sins and therefore we do not have a debt to pay, there is no need for Jesus to replace us. Moreover, the New Testament texts speak of solidarity, never substitution, and Jesus does not act in our place, nor is he our representative. He is the 'firstborn' as Paul says, who opens the way and walks before us. Mixed in with sinners he asked for Baptism from John and on the cross he accepted to give his life for us. He drew near to us so that we could draw near to Him.

Thirdly: How then is this text of Paul's to be interpreted? First of all, God has never kept count of the sins of men, and Christ came into the world to make us understand this. When he says to Pilate: "I have come into the world to bear witness to the truth" (Jn 18:37), he affirms that his mission is to reveal the face of God who is always love and forgiveness. And when Paul writes: "...not imputing (God) to men their faults" he means to make it clear that God erases our false ideas about Him, those that portray Him as an accountant.  Jesus came to show the face of God Love, but was rejected and therefore accepted to die. He had become too inconvenient for the religious authorities of the time, who thought they knew better than he did who God was, and so he died on the cross because of human pride that had turned into implacable hatred. To Philip in the Upper Room he said: "He who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9) and even in the midst of humiliation and hatred he only uttered words of forgiveness. We understand at this point the sentence with which this passage closes: "He who knew no sin, God made him sin for our sake, that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (v. 21). On the face of Christ crucified, we contemplate to what extent the horror of our sin reaches us, but also to what extent God's forgiveness reaches us, and from this contemplation our conversion can be born: "They shall look upon him whom they have pierced", a text from the prophet Zechariah (12:10), which we find in the Fourth Gospel (Jn 19:37). Hence our vocation as ambassadors of God's love: "We beseech you in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God" (v.20).

*From the Gospel according to Luke (15:1-3. 11-32)

The interpretive key to this text is found in the very first words. St Luke writes that "all publicans and sinners came to Jesus to listen to him" while "the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, 'He welcomes sinners and eats with them'. The former are public sinners to be avoided, while the latter are honest people who seek to do what pleases God. In truth, the Pharisees were generally upright, pious people and faithful to the Law of Moses, shocked however by the behaviour of Jesus who does not seem to understand who he is dealing with if he even eats and mingles with sinners. God is the Holy One and for them there was a total incompatibility between God and sinners and therefore Jesus, if he was truly from God, had to avoid associating with them. This parable is intended to help one discover the true face of God who is Father. In fact, the main character in this story is God himself, the father who has two kinds of sons, both with at least one point in common, namely the way they conceive of their relationship with their father in terms of merits and accounts, even though they behave differently: the younger offends him gravely, unlike the elder, and in the end, however, acknowledges his sin: "I am no longer worthy to be called your son"; the elder, on the other hand, boasts of having always obeyed but complains that he has never even received a kid as he deserves. The Father is out of these calculations and does not want to hear about merits because he loves his children and in this relationship there is no room for calculating accounts. To the prodigal son, who had demanded 'my share of the inheritance that is due to me', he had gone far beyond the demand, as he will eventually say to both of them: all that is mine is yours. To the prodigal son who returns he does not even leave time to express any repentance, he does not demand an explanation; on the contrary, he wants to celebrate immediately, because 'this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found'. The lesson is clear: with God it is not a matter of calculations, merits, even if we struggle to eradicate this mentality, and the whole Bible, from the Old Testament onwards, shows the slow and patient pedagogy with which God seeks to make himself known as Father, ready to celebrate every time we return to him.

Two small comments to conclude:

1. In the first reading, taken from the book of Joshua, Israel is nourished by manna during the desert crossing, while here there is no manna for the son who refuses to live with his father and finds himself in an existential desert, because he has cut himself off. 

2. Concerning the connection with the parable of the lost sheep, which is also found in this chapter of Luke, it is observed that the shepherd goes to look for the lost sheep and brings it back by putting it on his shoulders, while the father does not prevent the son from leaving and does not force him to return because he respects his freedom to the full.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

3rd Sunday in Lent (year C)  [23 March 2025]

*First Reading from the book of Exodus (3:1-8a.10.13-15)

This text has a fundamental importance for the faith of Israel and also for us because for the first time mankind discovers that it is loved by God, a God who sees, hears and knows our sufferings. Never could man have come so far if God Himself had not decided to reveal Himself, and it is precisely from His autonomous revelation that Israel's faith, and consequently ours, was born. We must grasp the strength of this biblical text, which unfortunately the liturgical translation renders weakly. When we read: "I have seen the misery of my people", the Hebrew text is much more insistent, so it would be more correct to translate it this way, hearing the voice God: "indeed I have seen, yes, I have seen" the misery of my people in Egypt. A real misery as seen in the story of the Hebrew people who emigrated centuries earlier due to a famine, and while things were going well at first, then as their numbers grew, just as Moses was born the Egyptians began to worry. They kept the Hebrews as cheap labour, but wanted to prevent their population growth by having every male infant killed by the midwives. Moses was saved because he was adopted by Pharaoh's daughter and grew up in his court, but could not forget his origins, constantly torn between his adoptive family and his blood brothers, who were reduced to helplessness and revolt. Until one day he killed an Egyptian who was using violence towards a Jew, but the next day, intervening between two quarrelling Jews, they told him not to interfere, which meant that they did not recognise his responsibility for leading a rebellion against the Pharaoh while Pharaoh had decided to punish him for the murder of the Egyptian. Moses was forced, in order to avoid revenge, to flee to the Sinai desert, where he took as his wife a Midianite, Sipporah, daughter of Jethro, and today's text starts from here. While shepherding his father-in-law's flock, one day he arrived across the desert at the mountain of God, Horeb, where he met God who entrusted him with a great mission. Beware! Moses felt the misery of his brothers and had risked his life for them by killing an Egyptian, but he had to recognise his powerlessness, so he fled, marginalised by his blood brothers who recognised no authority in him. He is therefore a humanly bankrupt man who approaches a strange burning bush and from here his story changes completely. I close with two reflections. The first: Moses encounters the transcendent God and at the same time the near God. Transcendent because one can only approach him with fear and respect, but also the near God, who sees the misery of his people and raises up a deliverer. We grasp God's holiness and man's deep respect for his presence in these expressions: 'the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire from the midst of a bush'. To indicate God's presence, the periphrasis: "the Angel of the Lord" is used, which is a respectful way of speaking of God, as are the words: "Come no closer! Take off your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground"; and finally "Moses then covered his face, because he was afraid to look towards God". God, however, is revealed as the God who is close to man, the one who stoops to his suffering. The second reflection concerns the way God intervenes: he sees man's suffering, acts and sends Moses. God calls a co-worker, but for the deliverance to take place, the one who is called must accept to respond, and the one who suffers must accept to be saved.

*Responsorial Psalm (102 (103), 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8.11)

In the first reading, the account of the burning bush from the book of Exodus chapter 3, God reveals his Name: 'I am' ... that is, 'with you' in the depths of your suffering. Almost echoing this, the responsorial psalm proclaims: 'Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love'. The two formulations of the Mystery of God: 'I am' and 'Merciful and gracious' complement each other. In the episode of the burning bush, the expression 'I am' or 'I am who I am' should not be taken as the definition of a philosophical concept. The repetition of the verb 'I am' is an idiomatic form of the Hebrew language that serves to express intensity, and God begins by recalling the long history of the Covenant with the Fathers: 'I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob' to express his faithfulness to his people through the ages. Then he wanted to manifest his compassion for humiliated Israel, enslaved in Egypt, and only then does he reveal his Name 'I am'. Moses' first discovery at Sinai was precisely the intense presence of God in the heart of human despair: 'I have seen,' said God, 'yes, I have seen the misery of my people in Egypt, and I have heard their cries under the beatings of the overseers. Yes, I know his sufferings. I have come down to deliver them..." Moses retained such a profound memory that he drew from it the incredible energy that transformed him from a lonely man, exiled and rejected by all, into the tireless leader and liberator of his people. However, when Israel remembers this unprecedented adventure, it knows very well that its first liberator is God, while Moses is only its instrument. Moses' 'Here I am' (like that of Abraham, and of so many others later) is the answer that allows God to bring about the liberation of humanity. And, henceforth, when one says "The Lord" - translation of the four letters (YHVH) of God's name - one evokes God's liberating presence. To better understand the mystery of God's presence, we need to go back to the account of the burning bush: the bush burned with fire, but was not consumed (cf. Ex 3:2). God reveals himself in two ways: through this vision as through the word that proclaims his Name. Confronted with the flame that burns a bush without consuming it, Moses is invited to understand that God, comparable to a fire, is in the midst of his people (the bush) as a presence that does not consume or destroy the people; Moses veiled his face and understood that one should not be afraid. Thus came the vocation of Israel, the place chosen by the Lord to manifest his presence and, from then on, the chosen people will testify that God is among men and there is nothing to fear.  The responsorial psalm proclaims this: "Merciful and gracious is the Lord", that is, tenderness and mercy, echoing another revelation of God to Moses (Ex 34:6), and the two merge into a single truth. The psalm continues: 'The Lord does just things, he defends the rights of all the oppressed. He made known to Moses his ways, his works to the children of Israel". God is the same from everlasting to everlasting: he is in our midst, a flame, a fire of tenderness and mercy, and Israel is called to bear witness to this in the world that needs such a message because it suffers if such a fire does not burn there. Hence the preaching of the prophets who always highlight two aspects of Israel's vocation: to proclaim one's faith by revealing the truth of which one is the bearer, and to act in the image of one's Lord, that is, working in justice in defence of the oppressed. All the prophets struggled against idolatry because a people who have experienced the presence of the God who sees their suffering cannot put their trust in idols of wood or stone and at the same time must defend the rights of the oppressed, as Isaiah says: "The fasting that pleases me...is to share your bread with the hungry, to take in the homeless poor, to clothe the naked, not to turn your back on your fellow man" (Is 58:6-7). 

*Second reading from the First Letter of St Paul to the Corinthians (10:1-6.10-12)

In order to warn the community of Corinth, as it is important what he is about to say, Paul starts like this: "I do not want you to be ignorant, brothers", he then recalls what happened during the exit from Egypt and ends with "therefore, whoever thinks he is standing, watch that he does not fall", i.e. do not overestimate yourselves as no one is safe from temptation. In the first chapters of the letter, the Apostle warned the Christians of Corinth of the many risks of corruption and immorality, inviting them to be humble. He proposed to them a rereading of the entire history of the people of Israel during the Exodus: a history where God's gifts were not lacking, but man's fickleness always emerges. God promised Moses to be the faithful God, present to his people on the difficult journey towards freedom, through the Sinai desert, but in return on many occasions the people betrayed their Covenant. The Apostle retraces the stages narrated in the book of Exodus, from the departure from Egypt before the crossing of the Red Sea, when the Lord himself had taken over the leadership of operations by marching at their head by day in a pillar of cloud, to show them the way, and by night with a pillar of fire (cf. Ex 13:21-22). From the first encampment, however, the people seeing the Egyptians behind them were afraid and rebelled against Moses: "Perhaps because there were no graves in Egypt, you led us to die in the desert? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? ... Leave us alone, we want to serve the Egyptians. It is better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!" (cf. Ex 14:10-11). And this will be repeated with every difficulty because the path to freedom is full of obstacles and the temptation to fall back into the old slavery is constant. Paul conveys this message to the Corinthians: Christ has set you free, but you are often tempted to fall back into the old errors and you do not realise that these behaviours make you slaves. The path of Christ seems difficult to you, but trust him: he alone is the true deliverer. Even at the crossing of the Red Sea, in a situation that was humanly desperate, God intervened (cf. Ex 14:19) and the people were able to cross it because the waters opened up to let them pass: "The Lord all night long drove the sea with a strong east wind, making it dry; the waters parted" (Ex 14:21). The trials will continue and, on many occasions, the Israelites will return to regret the security of slavery in Egypt. They will complain and rebel instead of trusting in the knowledge that God will always intervene. The episode that best highlights this crisis is when in the desert the people began to really suffer thirst and began to protest, accusing Moses and, through him, God himself: "Why did you bring us up from Egypt? To make us and our children and our cattle die of thirst?" (Ex 17:3). It was then that Moses struck the Rock and water gushed out of it and gave that place the name Massa e Meriba, which means "Trial and Dispute", because the children of Israel had disputed the Lord (Ex 17:7). The problems of the Corinthians, of course, are not the same, but there are other "Egypts" and other forms of slavery: for these new Christians there are choices to be made in the name of their baptism, there are behaviours that can no longer be maintained. And these choices sometimes become painful. Let us think of the demands of the catechumenate that entailed real renunciations of certain behaviours, certain relationships and sometimes even a trade; renunciations that can only be accepted when one places all one's trust in Jesus Christ. In the mixed and particularly permissive society of Corinth, maintaining Christian behaviour required courage, but Paul emphasises, what seems folly to men is true wisdom in the eyes of God. It is no coincidence that, during Lent, the Church invites us to meditate on this text of Paul's, which reminds us how demanding we must be with ourselves in order not to fall into old slavery, and instead how much renewed trust must be placed in God at all times.

*From the Gospel according to St Luke (13:1-9)

 In this Sunday's gospel, we find the account of two facts of crime, Jesus' commentary with the parable of the fig tree, and their juxtaposition is surprising, though certainly the evangelist intentionally proposes it to us. Therefore, it is precisely the parable that can help us understand the meaning of what Jesus means about the two news events.

The first concerns a massacre of Galilean pilgrims who had come to Jerusalem to offer a sacrifice in the Temple. These events were not unusual at the time since Pilate's cruelty was known and pilgrims were often accused of being opponents of Roman power.  In truth, the majority of the Jewish people hardly tolerated the occupation of the Romans and it was precisely from Galilee, at the time of Jesus' birth, that the revolt of Judas the Galilean had started. The second news event, the collapse of the tower of Siloe with 18 victims, was a tragedy like many others. From Jesus' words we can guess the question that the disciples had on their lips and that we often hear repeated even today: 'What did they do wrong to deserve this divine punishment? This is the great question about suffering, which to this day is an unsolved problem. In the Bible, the book of Job poses the problem in the most dramatic way and the three friends - Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar - try to explain his suffering through the principle of retributive justice, according to which suffering is a punishment for sin and therefore Job must have committed some hidden fault that justifies his afflictions.  However, Job declares himself innocent and rejects these explanations. At the end of the book, God intervenes and rebukes Job's friends for speaking incorrectly about him, instead representing Job's sincerity in his search for answers. The theme of suffering is a complex one, and God, who recognises all human attempts to interpret pain as ineffective because the control of events eludes human intelligence, invites man to maintain his trust in God in every difficulty, even the most dramatic. Faced with the horror of the massacre of the Galileans and the collapse of the tower of Siloe, Jesus is categorical: there is no direct link between suffering and sin so those Galileans were no more sinners than the others, nor were the eighteen people crushed by the tower of Siloe more guilty than the other inhabitants of Jerusalem. But then, starting from these two events, he invites the disciples to true conversion, indeed he insists on the urgency of conversion, echoing the appeals of the prophets such as Amos, Isaiah and many others. This is followed by the parable of the fig tree, which softens the apparent harshness of his words because it shows that God's thoughts are very different from those of men and shows us the face of a patient and merciful God. For us, a barren fig tree that uselessly exploits the soil must be cut down, that is, someone who does evil must be punished at once and even eliminated, but not so thinks our God who, on the contrary, affirms: "As I live - oracle of the Lord God - I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but in his conversion, that he may live" (Ez 33:11).  Jesus does not primarily ask us to change our behaviour, but to urgently change the image of a God who punishes. On the contrary, precisely in the face of evil, the Lord is "merciful and pitiful", as this Sunday's Psalm says: merciful, that is, bent over our miseries, and the conversion that awaits us is to entrust ourselves to his infinite and patient mercy. In short, taking up the conclusions of the book of Job, Jesus invites us not to try to explain suffering with sin and other theories as it is a mystery, but to keep our trust in God in spite of everything. And when he says: "unless you are converted, you will all perish in the same way" he means that humanity is heading for ruin when it loses trust in God. Like Israel in the wilderness, whose adventure Paul recalls in the second reading, we too are challenged to always choose whether to trust or to be suspicious of God. However, we must know that his plan is always in our favour and if it changes our heart (that is conversion), it will also change the face of the world.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is the commentary on next Sunday's texts with the assurance of prayer for the Pope and for the great spiritual and social needs of our society.

2nd Sunday in Lent year C (16 March 2025)

*First Reading from the book of Genesis (15.5-12.17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed and torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. In addition, both parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, that is, life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God that on the surface seems to respect traditional rites yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Similar to similar rituals is that Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and chased them away considering them birds of ill omen (Abraham, despite having discovered the true God, still retained a certain superstition). What is different, however, is that at sunset Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and profound anguish and at that moment he sees a smoking brazier and a blazing torch passing among the pieces of animals. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, but uses a word that is not in common use but was already used to indicate Adam's sleep while God created woman. It is therefore a way of saying two things: firstly, man cannot witness God's work and when man wakes up (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins; it also shows that man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while for man it is enough to trust: Abraham had faith in the Lord and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, descendant and land terms placed in inclusion in the narrative: at the beginning, God had said: look at the sky and count the stars, if you can... so shall your descendants be, "I am the Lord, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees to give you possession of this land" and at the end: "To your descendants I give this land".  Surprising is this promise to a childless old man, and it is not the first time that God has made it to him even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment while continuing to walk sustained only by the promise of a God unknown to him. Let us recall the precedents of his vocation: "Get thee out of thy country, and out of thy father's house, unto the land that I will show thee. I will make you a great nation (Gen 12:1) and the Bible has always emphasised the indomitable faith of Abraham who "departed as the Lord had told him" (Gen 12:4). Here, the text states: "Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord counted him righteous". This is the first appearance of the word faith in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firm: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous, and in the Bible, the righteous is he whose will is according to God's will. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: "If you believe... you will be saved" (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives and asks only one thing of us... to believe, that is, to trust him. 

Notes for further study.

v.7: "I am the Lord who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees"; it is the same verb used for the exit from Egypt with Moses, six hundred years later: God's work is presented from the beginning as a work of deliverance.

- v.12: "mysterious sleep" = tardemah = same word used for Adam, Abraham and Saul (1 Sam 26).

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on closer inspection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind of the praying person who feels empowered to say everything to the Lord. And so prayer embraces man's entire existence: serenity that stems from certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation: of whom shall I be afraid? The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", combined with an ardent plea - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!' Israel has always kept its faith firm in the midst of its vicissitudes and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. Finally, between the first and the last verse, there is the passage from the present to the future: in the first verse, "The Lord is my light and my salvation" which is the language of faith, that is, of unshakeable trust, while in the last verse, "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord ... and hope in the Lord, be strong" expresses hope conjugated together with faith in the future. There are ways to comment on this psalm often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we will stop at just these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  First of all, "Your face, Lord, I seek": seeing the face of God is the desire, the thirst of every believer because we are created in the image of God and we are drawn to him, our Creator. The desire to seek his face becomes more intense during Lent. As the Lord told Moses, we cannot see him and remain alive (cf. Ex 33:18-23. In this text, the greatness and inaccessibility of God is present together with all the tender closeness of God, who is so immense that we cannot see him with our eyes. The radiance of his ineffable, inaccessible Presence - what the texts call his glory - is in fact too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze upon the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: he who believes is no longer afraid of anything, not even death, and no other god can ever arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? Confidence that we find again in the last verse: "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living". But what is the land of the living? Certainly the land given to his people and the possession of which has become for Israel a symbol of God's gifts, but there is also the reminder of the demands of the Covenant: the holy land was given to the chosen people to live in holily. And this is one of the main themes of the book of Deuteronomy (cf. Deut 5:32-33), where the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to human history, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who think that the rite of circumcision remains indispensable even now act as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' has not taken place and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant, but St Paul warns them sternly, inviting them to beware of dogs, bad workers and false circumcision (3:2), adding that the (true) circumcised are we, who worship through the Spirit of God by putting our glory in Jesus Christ without trusting in ourselves. He even uses a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence and salvation is in Jesus Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. False circumcisions, on the other hand, are those who have received circumcision in their flesh, according to the law of Moses, and attach greater importance to this rite than baptism. And when Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision. Moreover, Paul sees another pitfall in the believer's attitude: is salvation earned by one's own practices or do we receive it freely from God? When he says that the belly is their god, he wants to imply that these people are betting on Jewish ritual practices and they are wrong: "they boast of what they ought to be ashamed of and think only of the things of the earth" for which "their final fate will be perdition".  And he goes on to point out which is the right choice: he reminds the Philippians that our citizenship is in heaven while we await Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body, with the active power that makes him even able to subject all things to his dominion. If we await him as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is placed in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the true circumcision and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model since if there was one with merits to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. For he writes that if anyone else believes that he can trust in himself, I can trust even more, I, circumcised on the eighth day, of the seed of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Jew, the son of Jews; by the law, a Pharisee; by zeal, a persecutor of the Church; by the righteousness found in the law, become blameless. Now all these things, which were gains for me, I counted as loss because of Christ (cf. Phil 3:4-7). In summary, to take Paul's example means to make Jesus Christ - and not our practices - the centre of our lives and this means to be 'citizens of heaven'.

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples this question: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". Jesus then announced the necessity of the sacrifice of the Son of Man rejected by the elders, the high priests and the scribes, put to death but resurrected on the third day. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later. Jesus leads Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again and it is in this context that God chooses to reveal the mystery of the Messiah to these three privileged ones. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. The presence of Moses and Elijah is understandable since Moses spent forty days on Sinai in the presence of God and came down with a face so radiant that it amazed everyone. Elijah, on the other hand, walked for forty days and forty nights to the mountain where God revealed Himself in a totally unexpected way: not in the power of wind, fire, or earthquake, but in the gentle whisper of a gentle breeze. The two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of seeing the glory of God are also present here where the glory of Christ is manifested. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the cross and resurrection, which he calls the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. From the cloud a voice says: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!". These three words: My Son, the Chosen One, Listen to him, expressed at the time of Christ the diversity of portraits with which the Messiah was imagined. The title of Son of God was conferred on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "Behold my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him, seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him: "I will raise up to them a prophet like you from among their brethren; I will put my words in his mouth" (Deut 18:18), and some inferred from this that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. "Listen to him," is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, contemplating the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that he did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. God's plan is not for a chosen few: Peter, James and John must rather hurry to join the others and work because on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. Paul says it in his letter to the Philippians: "we are citizens of heaven".

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Here is a short version for those who wish it 

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (15:5-12, 17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed, torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. Furthermore, both contracting parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, i.e. life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God. On the surface, he seems to respect the traditional rites, yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Let us first take a closer look at what is similar: Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and Abraham chased them away considering them birds of ill omen. But there is something unusual: at sunset, Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and deep anguish. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, a word already used to refer to Adam's sleep while God created the woman, and it is used to say two things: first, man cannot witness God's work and when man awakens (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins. Moreover, man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while man only has to trust: Abraham had faith and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, a promise already made to a childless old man even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment, but continues to trust a God unknown to him. For the first time, the word faith appears in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firmly: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous. The text states: 'Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord considered him righteous'. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: 'If you believe... you will be saved' (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives everything and asks only one thing of us: to trust him. 

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on reflection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind in which we find ourselves because prayer embraces the whole of human existence. Serenity is born of certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation ... he is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", together with ardent supplication - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!". In times of joy as well as in times of trial, Israel has always kept its confidence firm and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. This psalm returns often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we pause only on these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  To see the face of God is the desire of every believer because we are created in God's image and are drawn to him, but the radiance of his ineffable Presence, which the Bible calls his glory, is too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze into the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: the believer is no longer afraid of anything or anyone, not even death, and no other god can ever again arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? We find trust again in the last verse: 'I am sure to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living'. And the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to the history of humanity, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the Apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who thought that the rite of circumcision was also indispensable were acting as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' had not taken place, and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant and St Paul urges them to beware of the false circumcisers (3:2), adding that the truly circumcised are we who place all our trust in Jesus Christ. And he goes so far as to use a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence is in Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. When Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision and wants to make it clear that these people are betting on their ritual practices. The right choice is to remember that we are citizens of heaven and await the Lord Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body. If we await Christ as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the circumcised (the true) and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model, since if there was one with merit to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. By setting himself as an example he encourages us to make Christ, and not ritual practices, the centre of our lives and if we are in Christ we are already 'citizens of heaven', even though we still dwell on earth. 

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". And Jesus said: It is necessary that the Son of Man should suffer much, be rejected, put to death, and, on the third day, rise again. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later with Jesus leading Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again, and in this context God chooses to reveal to these three privileged ones the mystery of the Messiah. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who provides the answer and invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. Understandable is the presence of Moses and Elijah, the two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of the revelation of God's glory and are now witnesses of Christ's glory. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the Cross, and he uses it referring to the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. Everything hinges on three words that expressed the different conceptions of the Messiah at the time of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The title Son of God was bestowed on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "This is my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him (Deut 18:18), and some inferred that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. Listen to him! This is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, amazed by the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that Peter did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. Rather, Peter, James and John must hurry to join the others because God's plan is not limited to a chosen few: on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. St Paul in his letter to the Philippians said that "we are citizens of heaven", because through baptism we are already in eternal life even though we are still pilgrimage on earth.

+Giovanni D’Ercole