Already rebellious: Particular Vocation

(Lk 2:41-51)

The family is the nucleus of society and the privileged place of educational risk, not the only one.

It is a precious stage of growth, but it must not hinder the blossoming into the universal dimension.

The movement of Salvation familiarises everyone with the dynamics of being lost [from narrowness] and found [of a Presence within narrowness] in order not to narrow horizons.

The complacent retreat into the world of kinship affections and interests reduces the dimension of vital frontiers, making personal and household life narrow; cultural, social and spiritual.

The home hearth must integrate them into the community, and introduce young people to the knowledge of the innate character of their vocation, so that as they grow up they become available and mature in an ever wider reality.

The family that becomes a trampoline preludes detachment, which in its cut will be painful for all - but it will become a taking flight from the protected nest that enslaves; a leap towards the freedom of full life.

The Gospel passage is disconcerting because it seems to portray a distracted family and an already grumpy and rebellious Jesus.

Lk writes more than half a century after the Lord's death and resurrection.

The tragic story of the Master is understood and internalised in a way that perhaps Joseph and Mary could not yet have guessed in their adolescence.

Recognising Jesus as the Son of God from the age of twelve meant in the literature of the time "covering" his whole life [cf. Lk 24].

It seems that the holy family went up to Jerusalem every year for the Passover (v.41).

Before they became adults in Israel and required to observe the Torah (13 years old), our teenager already shows signs of a special vocation.

The tone of the narration reveals a Jesus eager to drink in and immerse himself in the as yet unexpressed Mystery of the Father.

Dreaming of discovering his Will, he stays in the holy city to deeply understand the Word of God - without being satisfied with impersonal, abbreviated catechisms.

The first expressions of Jesus in the third Gospel mark the character of his whole life. He decisively distances himself from the religiosity of his fathers (v.49).

He begins to distance himself from the ideas common even to his family of origin: he does not belong to a defined clan.

His will be a divine proposal on behalf of all the women and men of the world.

In this sense, Jesus even more honoured his parents' faithfulness to God (vv.51-52) by accepting the entire spirit of their teachings, and digging deeper - intuiting their ultimate meaning.

As if to say: in Him, the sacred Scriptures become accessible, with the key to understanding His whole story and Person.

Life for us (even before Baptism and the public affair).

Lk writes to encourage believers who did not yet understand everything about the new Rabbi.

Like Joseph and Mary, they had to realise that it is not easy to understand the Son of God and accept his uniqueness of character, even to the point of earthly defeat.

In the figure of the holy family, we too are invited to "return to Jerusalem" (v.45).

Here, by observing the autonomy of Christ, we will gradually be able to open ourselves to the unprecedented vocation that we carry within - because we have been "reborn" in Him.

And in the face of bewildering events, we learn to cherish the personal calling - like Mary. 

For she too did not find it easy to enter his Passover: the "passage" from the religion of traditions and expectations to Faith in the Son.

But they "kept through" the Word and events (v.51b), without stopping in the middle.

The reflective aspect of the House of Nazareth

The house of Nazareth is the school where one is initiated to understand the life of Jesus, that is, the school of the Gospel. Here we learn to observe, to listen, to meditate, to penetrate the meaning so profound and so mysterious of this manifestation of the Son of God so simple, so humble and so beautiful. Perhaps we also learn, almost without realising it, to imitate.Here we learn the method that will enable us to know who Christ is. Here we discover the need to observe the framework of his sojourn among us: that is, the places, the times, the customs, the language, the sacred rites, in short, everything that Jesus used to manifest himself to the world.Here everything has a voice, everything has meaning. Here, at this school, we certainly understand why we must keep a spiritual discipline, if we wish to follow the doctrine of the Gospel and become disciples of Christ. Oh! how willingly we would like to become children again and put ourselves to this humble and sublime school of Nazareth! How ardently we long to begin again, close to Mary, to learn the true science of life and the superior wisdom of divine truths! But we are but passing through, and it is necessary for us to lay aside the desire to continue to know, in this house, the unfinished formation to the intelligence of the Gospel. However, we will not leave this place without picking up, almost furtively, some brief admonitions from the house of Nazareth.Firstly, it teaches us silence. Oh! would that the appreciation of silence, the admirable and indispensable atmosphere of the spirit, could be reborn in us: while we are stunned by so many noises, rumblings and clamorous voices in the exaggerated and tumultuous life of our time. O Silence of Nazareth, teach us to be firm in good thoughts, intent on the inner life, ready to hear God's secret inspirations and the exhortations of the true teachers. Teach us how important and necessary are the work of preparation, study, meditation, the interiority of life, prayer, which God alone sees in secret.Here we understand the way of life as a family. Nazareth reminds us what the family is, what the communion of love is, its austere and simple beauty, its sacred and inviolable character; it shows us how sweet and irreplaceable education in the family is, it teaches us its natural function in the social order. Finally, let us learn the lesson of work. Oh! dwelling place of Nazareth, home of the carpenter's Son! Here above all we wish to understand and celebrate the law, severe of course but redeeming of human toil; here we wish to ennoble the dignity of work so that it is felt by all; to remind us under this roof that work cannot be an end in itself, but that it receives its freedom and excellence, not only from what is called economic value, but also from what turns it to its noble end; Here, finally, we wish to greet the workers of the whole world and show them the great model, their divine brother, the prophet of all the just causes that concern them, that is Christ our Lord.

[Pope Paul VI, Church of the Annunciation Nazareth 5 January 1964]

Immaculate Mother,
in this place of grace,
called together by the love of your Son Jesus
the Eternal High Priest, we,
sons in the Son and his priests,
consecrate ourselves to your maternal Heart,
in order to carry out faithfully the Father’s Will.

We are mindful that, without Jesus,
we can do nothing good (cf. Jn 15:5)
and that only through him, with him and in him,
will we be instruments of salvation
for the world.

Bride of the Holy Spirit,
obtain for us the inestimable gift
of transformation in Christ.
Through the same power of the Spirit that
overshadowed you,
making you the Mother of the Saviour,
help us to bring Christ your Son
to birth in ourselves too.
May the Church
be thus renewed by priests who are holy,
priests transfigured by the grace of him
who makes all things new.

Mother of Mercy,
it was your Son Jesus who called us
to become like him:
light of the world and salt of the earth
(cf. Mt 5:13-14).

Help us,
through your powerful intercession,
never to fall short of this sublime vocation,
nor to give way to our selfishness,
to the allurements of the world
and to the wiles of the Evil One.

Preserve us with your purity,
guard us with your humility
and enfold us with your maternal love
that is reflected in so many souls
consecrated to you,
who have become for us
true spiritual mothers.

Mother of the Church,
we priests want to be pastors
who do not feed themselves
but rather give themselves to God for their brethren,
finding their happiness in this.
Not only with words, but with our lives,
we want to repeat humbly,
day after day,
Our “here I am”.

Guided by you,
we want to be Apostles
of Divine Mercy,
glad to celebrate every day
the Holy Sacrifice of the Altar
and to offer to those who request it
the sacrament of Reconciliation.

Advocate and Mediatrix of grace,
you who are fully immersed
in the one universal mediation of Christ,
invoke upon us, from God,
a heart completely renewed
that loves God with all its strength
and serves mankind as you did.

Repeat to the Lord
your efficacious word:
“They have no wine” (Jn 2:3),
so that the Father and the Son will send upon us
a new outpouring of
the Holy Spirit.
Full of wonder and gratitude
at your continuing presence in our midst,
in the name of all priests
I too want to cry out:
“Why is this granted me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Lk 1:43).

Our Mother for all time,
do not tire of “visiting us”,
consoling us, sustaining us.
Come to our aid
and deliver us from every danger
that threatens us.
With this act of entrustment and consecration,
we wish to welcome you
more deeply, more radically,
for ever and totally
into our human and priestly lives.

Let your presence cause new blooms to burst forth
in the desert of our loneliness,
let it cause the sun to shine on our darkness,
let it restore calm after the tempest,
so that all mankind shall see the salvation
of the Lord,
who has the name and the face of Jesus,
who is reflected in our hearts,
for ever united to yours!

Amen!

[Pope Benedict, Fatima 12 May 2010]

The family is the heart of the Church. Let us today raise from this heart an act of special entrustment to the heart of the Mother of God.

In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption we want to confess that love is greater than sin and all evil, which threatens man and the world.

With humility let us invoke this love:

1. "Under your protection we seek refuge, Holy Mother of God"!

Speaking the words of this antiphon, with which the Church of Christ has prayed for centuries, we stand before you today, Mother, in the Jubilee Year of our Redemption.

We find ourselves united with all the pastors of the Church, in a special bond, constituting a body and a college, just as by Christ's will the apostles constituted a body and a college with Peter.

In the bond of such unity, we utter the words of this act, in which we wish to encapsulate, once again, the hopes and anxieties of the Church for the contemporary world.

Forty years ago, and then again ten years later, your servant, Pope Pius XII, having before his eyes the sorrowful experiences of the human family, entrusted and consecrated to your Immaculate Heart, the whole world and especially the peoples, who by their situation are particular objects of your love and solicitude.

This world of men and nations is also before our eyes today: the world of the second millennium that is coming to an end, the contemporary world, our world!

The Church, mindful of the words of the Lord: "Go . . . and teach all nations . . . Behold, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world' (Mt 28:19-20), has revived, in the Second Vatican Council, the consciousness of her mission in this world.

And therefore, O Mother of men and peoples, you who know all their sufferings and their hopes, you who maternally feel all the struggles between good and evil, between light and darkness, that shake the contemporary world, accept our cry which, moved by the Holy Spirit, we address directly to your Heart: embrace, with love as mother and servant of the Lord, this human world of ours, which we entrust and consecrate to you, full of concern for the earthly and eternal fate of men and peoples.

In a special way we entrust and consecrate to you those men and nations, who are in particular need of this entrustment and consecration.

"Under your protection we seek refuge, Holy Mother of God! Do not despise the pleas of us who are in trial!

2. Behold, as we stand before you, Mother of Christ, before your immaculate heart, we wish, together with the whole Church, to unite ourselves to the consecration which, out of love for us, your Son made of himself to the Father: "For their sake," he said, "I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:19). We wish to unite ourselves with our Redeemer in this consecration for the world and for mankind, which, in his divine heart, has the power to obtain forgiveness and to procure reparation.

The power of this consecration endures for all time and embraces all men, peoples and nations, and overcomes every evil, which the spirit of darkness is capable of awakening in the heart of man and in his history, and which, in fact, it has awakened in our times.

Oh, how deeply we feel the need for consecration for humanity and for the world: for our contemporary world, in union with Christ himself! The redemptive work of Christ must be shared by the world through the Church.

This is manifested by the present Year of the Redemption: the extraordinary Jubilee of the whole Church.

Be blessed, in this Holy Year, above every creature You, servant of the Lord, who in the fullest manner obeyed the divine call!

Be hailed you, who are wholly united to the redemptive consecration of your Son!

Mother of the Church! Enlighten God's people on the paths of faith, hope and charity! Enlighten especially the peoples whose consecration and entrustment you await. Help us to live in the truth of Christ's consecration for the entire human family of today's world.

3. In entrusting to you, O Mother, the world, all men and all peoples, we also entrust to you the very consecration of the world, placing it in your motherly heart.

Oh, immaculate heart! Help us to overcome the menace of evil, which so easily takes root in the hearts of people today and which in its immeasurable effects already burdens the present life and seems to close the paths to the future!

From hunger and war, deliver us!

From nuclear war, from incalculable self-destruction, from all kinds of war, deliver us!

From the sins against the life of man since its dawning, deliver us!

From hatred and from the degradation of the dignity of God's children, deliver us!

From every kind of injustice in social, national and international life, deliver us!From the easy trampling of God's commandments, deliver us!

From the attempt to obfuscate in human hearts the very truth of God, deliver us!

From the loss of the conscience of good and evil, deliver us!

From sins against the Holy Spirit, deliver us! Deliver us!

Receive, O Mother of Christ, this cry laden with the suffering of all men! Burden us with the suffering of entire societies!

Help us with the power of the Holy Spirit to overcome all sin: the sin of man and the "sin of the world", sin in all its manifestations.

May the infinite saving power of the Redemption be revealed once more in the history of the world: the power of merciful Love! Let it arrest evil! Transform consciences! In Thy Immaculate Heart may the light of Hope be revealed for all!

[Pope John Paul II, Jubilee of Families 25 March 1984]

[...] The liturgy invites us to reflect on the experience of Mary, Joseph and Jesus, united by an immense love and inspired by great trust in God. Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Lk 2:41-52) recounts the journey of the family of Nazareth to Jerusalem, for the celebration of Passover. But, on the return journey, the parents realize that their 12-year-old son is not in the caravan. After three days of searching and fear, they find him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, focused on a discussion with them. At the sight of the Son, Mary and Joseph “were astonished” (v. 48) and the Mother revealed their fear to him, saying: “your father and I have been looking for you anxiously” (ibid.)

Astonishment — they “were astonished” — and anxiety — “your father and I, anxious” — are the two elements to which I would like to call your attention: astonishment and anxiety.

In the family of Nazareth astonishment never waned, not even in a dramatic moment such as Jesus being lost: it is the ability to be astonished before the gradual manifestation of the Son of God. It is the same astonishment that even strikes the teachers of the temple, “amazed at his understanding and his answers” (v. 47). But what is astonishment; what is it to be astonished? Being astonished and being amazed is the opposite of taking everything for granted; it is the opposite of interpreting the reality that surrounds us and historical events according to our criteria alone. A person who does this does not know what amazement is, what astonishment is. Being astonished is being open to others, understanding others’ reasons: this attitude is important for mending compromised interpersonal relationships, and is also indispensable for healing open wounds in the familial environment. When there are problems in families, we take for granted that we are right and we close the door to others. Instead, it is important to think: ‘What is good about this person?’, and to be astonished by this ‘good’. And this helps family unity. If you have problems in the family, think about the good things in the family member with whom you have problems, and be astonished by this. This will help to heal familial wounds.

The second element that I would like to grasp from the Gospel is the anxiety that Mary and Joseph felt when they could not find Jesus. This anxiety reveals Jesus’ centrality in the Holy Family. The Virgin and her husband welcomed that Son, protected him and watched him grow in age, wisdom and grace in their midst, but above all he grew in their hearts; and, little by little, their affection for him and their understanding of him grew. This is why the family of Nazareth is holy: because it was centred on Jesus; all of Mary and Joseph’s attention and concerns were directed toward him.

That anxiety that they experienced in the three days that Jesus was missing should also be our anxiety when we are distant from him, when we are distant from Jesus. We should feel anxious when we forget Jesus for more than three days, without praying, without reading the Gospel, without feeling the need of his presence and of his comforting friendship. And many times, days pass in which I do not remember Jesus. But this is bad, this is really bad. We should feel anxious when these things happen. Mary and Joseph searched for him and found him in the temple while he was teaching: for us too, it is especially in the house of God that we are able to encounter the divine Teacher and receive his message of salvation. In the Eucharistic celebration we have a living experience of Christ; he speaks to us; he offers us his Word; he illuminates us, lights our path, gives us his Body in the Eucharist from which we draw vigour to face everyday difficulties.

And today let us go home with these two words: astonishment and anxiety. Do I know how to be astonished, when I see the good things in others, and in this way resolve family problems? Do I feel anxious when I am distant from Jesus?

Let us pray for all the families in the world, especially those in which, for various reasons, peace and harmony are lacking. And let us entrust them to the protection of the Holy Family of Nazareth.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 30 December 2018]

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity (year A)  [31 May 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (34:4–6, 8–9)

The text presents one of the most precious moments of biblical revelation: God speaks of himself and proclaims his name before Moses, who prostrates himself in recognition of the greatness of what he hears. God defines himself as ‘the Lord (YHWH), a God who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love and faithfulness. This name, already revealed in the burning bush, is the foundation of Israel’s faith. Even then, God had shown his face: he sees the misery of his people in Egypt, hears their cry, knows their sufferings and comes down to set them free, inspiring Moses with the necessary strength. This means that man is never alone in his trials: God is present, accompanying and sustaining him. The Jewish Passover commemorates this liberating intervention every year. In today’s text, however, a further step is taken: God does not merely feel compassion, but loves deeply. His ‘passing’ before Moses recalls the passage during the Exodus: whenever God passes by, he sets free. This second revelation is even more important because it frees man from false images of God. It is not man who has invented a good God: it is God himself who has revealed himself in this way, unexpectedly. Moses fully understands the meaning of ‘slow to anger’ and asks forgiveness for the people, aware of their unfaithfulness. Israel is described as a “stiff-necked people”, an image drawn from the agricultural yoke: just as animals resist the yoke, so the people struggle to walk in step with God in the covenant. Despite this, Moses trusts that God will continue to forgive and keep the people as his inheritance. Finally, God’s faithfulness (“truth”) remains the foundation of hope: He does not abandon His people nor forget the covenant. For this reason, Israel remains the chosen people and, as the New Testament also reminds us, God remains ever faithful, even when man is unfaithful.

Responsorial Psalm: Song of Daniel (3:52–56)

To understand the Book of Daniel, we can use a modern comparison: in the 1980s, during Soviet rule in Czechoslovakia, a young actress staged a play about Joan of Arc. On the surface, it spoke of 15th-century France, but between the lines the message was clear: like Joan, the Czech people too could resist oppression. Similarly, the Book of Daniel, written in the 2nd century BC during the persecution by the Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes, is a text of resistance. It tells stories set in an earlier era, under the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar, but in reality it speaks of the author’s contemporary situation. Its aim is to encourage the faithful to remain steadfast, even unto martyrdom. A central episode is that of the three young men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, condemned to be burned alive for refusing to worship a statue. Thrown into a blazing furnace, they are miraculously saved: the flames kill their executioners, whilst they walk unharmed through the fire, praising God. The greatest miracle, however, is their faith: they acknowledge the sins of the people and humbly entrust themselves to God’s mercy. In their song they proclaim: “Blessed are you, Lord, God of our fathers”. It is a reference to the covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Israel, to the divine promises and the history of salvation, but also to God’s continual forgiveness despite the people’s unfaithfulness. When speaking of God’s “Name”, God himself is referred to with respect. The reference to the “holy temple” reflects the historical context of persecution: even when worship is desecrated, it is affirmed that God alone is the true Lord. The images of the throne and the cherubim recall the Holy of Holies in the Temple, a sign of God’s presence among his people. This is a message of hope: even in the harshest trials, God is present and evil will not have the last word. The hymn thus becomes a song of trust and victory: despite violence and persecution, faith remains steadfast. This message of resilience and hope remains relevant even today.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (13:11–13)

The final sentence: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all”, is the formula with which the Eucharistic celebration begins, and this is no coincidence: St Paul concludes his Second Letter to the Corinthians in this way, summarising God’s entire plan. This expression, spoken by the celebrant in the name of God, indicates that God invites humanity to enter into his intimacy, that is, into the communion of love of the Trinity. “Grace”, “love” and “communion” express the same reality: the Trinitarian life of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The subjunctive verb “may be with you” does not indicate any doubt about God, who is always the source of forgiveness, blessing and presence, but rather points to human freedom: God continually offers his love, but man is free to accept or reject it. This clear expression of the Trinity is rare in the Bible and marks the fulfilment of revelation in Jesus Christ. From this spring Paul’s exhortations, beginning with joy: “Brothers and sisters, rejoice.” In the Bible, joy is linked to the experience of liberation, such as at the end of a war or the return from exile, when the people experience God’s salvation. These liberations that occur in history foreshadow the definitive joy promised by God, that of a new creation. Jesus himself speaks of this full and definitive joy at the end of his discourse at the Last Supper: “Take heart, I have overcome the world”, and promises a joy that no one can take away, even through trials. Paul’s second exhortation concerns unity and peace: “Be of one mind… live in peace”. Unity among believers is essential, for it is God’s witness to the world and echoes Jesus’ prayer: “May they be one.” Paul insists on one faith, one Lord, one baptism, one God and Father of all. This communion is also expressed in the liturgical gesture of the kiss of peace, already present in the early Christian communities. Ancient testimonies, such as those of Saint Justin and Saint Hippolytus, show how this gesture was an integral part of the celebration, a concrete sign of unity and brotherhood.

From the Gospel of John (3:16–18)

‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’: this sentence expresses the great transition from the Old to the New Testament. That God loves humanity was already known, and was Israel’s great discovery; the novelty lies in the gift of the Son for the salvation of all. God so loved the world… that whoever believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life. According to the Gospel of John, it is enough to believe to be saved: whoever receives Christ becomes a child of God and already possesses eternal life. This “eternal life” is the life of the Spirit received at Baptism: it is true salvation, that is, living in peace with oneself and with others, as brothers and sisters amongst men and children of God. To be saved, one need only turn to Jesus, allow oneself to be transformed by him, and pass from a heart of stone to a heart of flesh. In biblical language: “to lift one’s gaze towards him”. It is extraordinary news, if taken seriously, for in the face of the Crucified One the true face of God is revealed. In the face of the crucified Christ, who freely gives his life, humanity discovers the true face of God: not a domineering or vengeful God, but a God who is love and mercy. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” says Jesus. All that is required is faith: to believe in God who saves in order to be saved. In the Gospels, in fact, Jesus often repeats: “Your faith has saved you.” The evangelist John links this mystery to Zechariah’s prophecy: looking upon the one who has been pierced leads to conversion and purification. This vision also recurs in Revelation: all will see the one whom they have pierced. The expression ‘only Son’ indicates that Jesus is the fullness of grace and truth, the sole source of eternal life and the head of the new humanity. God’s plan is for all humanity to be united in Christ and to share in the life of the Trinity: this is salvation, true life, already present from this moment onwards. Eternal life is to know you, the one true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ: to know God means to recognise him as mercy and to enter into a profound relationship with him, in accordance with the meaning that ‘to know’ holds in St John. ‘Avoiding judgement’ means avoiding separation from God: it is enough to believe in his forgiveness. As in human relationships, if one believes in forgiveness, one can return and be reconciled; if one does not believe, one remains trapped in one’s own error. So it is with God. God offers salvation, but does not impose it, and man remains always free. Those who believe are saved; those who reject faith exclude themselves. This is shown in an extraordinary way by the good thief when he turns to Jesus, who is crucified alongside him. Despite having lived a life of sin, at the very last moment before dying he entrusts himself to Jesus and receives a surprising promise: ‘Today you will be with me in Paradise.’

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Pentecost Sunday (year A)  [24 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:1–11)

Jerusalem is not only the city where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, but the city where he rose from the dead and where the Spirit was poured out upon humanity. In Christ’s time, the Jewish feast of Pentecost was of the utmost importance because it was the feast of the giving of the Law, one of the three annual feasts for which people made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The list of all the nationalities gathered in Jerusalem for the occasion is proof of this. Jerusalem was therefore teeming with people from all over, thousands of devout Jews, some of whom had travelled from far away. It was the year of Jesus’ death, but who among them knew this? I have deliberately said ‘the death’ of Jesus, without mentioning his resurrection, because for the time being his resurrection was still confidential news. These were people who had come from all over and who had perhaps never even heard of a certain Jesus of Nazareth. 

They came to Jerusalem in the fervour, faith and enthusiasm of a pilgrimage to renew the Covenant with God. For the disciples, however, this feast of Pentecost, fifty days after his resurrection, is unlike any other, for to them nothing is as it was before; yet this does not mean they expect what is about to happen. To help us understand clearly what is happening, Luke recounts it by carefully evoking three passages from the Old Testament: first, the giving of the Law at Sinai; second, a word from the prophet Joel; third, the episode of the Tower of Babel. First, let us begin with Sinai: the tongues of fire at Pentecost, the sound ‘like a mighty wind’, bring to mind what had happened at Sinai, when God gave the tablets of the Law to Moses, as we read in the Book of Exodus (19:16–19). By drawing a parallel with the event at Sinai, Saint Luke wants us to understand that this Pentecost, that year, is much more than a traditional pilgrimage: it is a new Sinai. Just as God had given his Law to his people to teach them how to live within the Covenant, so now God gives his own Spirit to his people. Now God’s Law, which is the only means of living truly free and happy, is no longer written on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, in the heart of man, to borrow an image from Ezekiel. Secondly, Luke wished to evoke a word of the prophet Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (3:1–2), says God; “all flesh” meaning every human being. In Luke’s view, these Jews from every nation under heaven, as he calls them, symbolise the whole of humanity for whom Joel’s prophecy is finally fulfilled. This means that the famous, long-awaited “Day of the Lord” has arrived. Thirdly, we can summarise the story of Babel in two acts: Act 1, all people spoke the same language: they had the same speech and the same words, and they decided to undertake a great project that would mobilise all their energies: the construction of an immense tower. Act 2: God intervenes to put a stop to it: He scatters them across the face of the earth and confuses their languages. From then on, people will no longer understand one another. Unless one wishes to judge God’s intentions, it is impossible to imagine that he acted for any reason other than our happiness. Therefore, if God intervenes, it is to spare humanity a false path: the path of a single mindset, of a single project; something like ‘my children, you seek unity, and that is good; but do not go astray: unity does not lie in uniformity. True unity in love can only be found in diversity’. The account of Pentecost in Luke fits well within the narrative of Babel: at Babel, humanity learns diversity; at Pentecost, it learns unity in diversity: now all the nations under heaven hear the one message proclaimed in their various languages: the wonders of God.

Note: The first reading and the psalm are common to the feasts of Pentecost across the three liturgical years. However, the second reading and the Gospel vary each year.

Responsorial Psalm (103/104)

Read in its entirety, this psalm offers thirty-six verses of pure praise, of wonder at the works of God. It is not surprising that it is proposed to us for the feast of Pentecost, given that Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, recounts that on the morning of Pentecost the Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim the wonders of God in every language. One might observe that to marvel at creation there is no need to have faith, and in every civilisation one finds magnificent poems on the beauties of nature. In Egypt, on the tomb of a Pharaoh, a poem written by the famous Pharaoh Akhenaten was discovered: a hymn to the Sun-God. Amenhotep IV lived around 1350 BC, at a time when the Jews were probably in Egypt and would have known this poem. There are similarities in style and vocabulary between the Pharaoh’s poem and Psalm 103/104. The language of wonder is the same across all latitudes, but what is interesting are the differences, which are the hallmark of the Revelation given to the people of the Covenant. The first difference, and it is essential to the faith of Israel, is that God alone is God; there is no other God but him; and therefore the sun is not a god. The Bible puts the sun and the moon in their place: they are not gods but merely luminaries, creatures themselves: one of the verses of the psalm states this clearly: “You, God, have made the moon to mark the seasons and the sun that knows the hour of its setting.” There are verses not chosen for the feast of Pentecost which clearly present God as the sole Lord of Creation, and a wholly regal vocabulary is used: God is presented as a magnificent, majestic and victorious King. A second distinctive feature of the Bible: creation is only good, and one hears an echo of the poem in Genesis which repeats tirelessly, like a refrain, “And God saw that it was good!”. Psalm 103/104 evokes all the elements of creation with the same wonder: I rejoice in the Lord, and the psalmist adds, in a verse we do not hear this Sunday: “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing hymns to my God as long as I exist…” Yet evil is not ignored: the end of the psalm clearly evokes it and hopes for its disappearance; but the people of the Old Testament had understood that evil is not God’s doing, for the whole of creation is good. And we know that one day God will remove all evil from the earth: the King who triumphs over the elements will overcome everything that stands in the way of human happiness. A third distinctive feature of the faith of Israel: creation is an enduring relationship between the Creator and his creatures. When we say in the Creed, “I believe in God the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth”, we are not merely affirming our faith in an initial act of God, but we acknowledge ourselves to be in a relationship of dependence on him, and the psalm expresses this very well: “All wait for you… Hide your face: they fail; take away their breath: they die and return to their dust. Send forth your Spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” Another distinctive feature of the faith of Israel is that at the summit of creation stands man,  created to be the king of creation, filled with the very breath of God. And this  is what we celebrate at Pentecost: the Spirit of God within us vibrates in his presence, and the psalmist sings, “Let the Lord rejoice in his works… I will rejoice in the Lord.”  Finally, and this is very important, in Israel every reflection on creation is set within the perspective of the Covenant: having experienced God’s work of liberation, they meditated on creation in the light of this experience, and in this psalm we find traces of this: first of all, the name of God used here is the famous four-letter name, YHWH, which we translate as Lord, the revelation of the God of the Covenant.

Furthermore, “Lord, my God, how great you are!” The expression “my God” with the possessive is always a reference to the Covenant, since God’s plan in this Covenant was precisely stated in the formula “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. This promise is fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit “to every person”, as the prophet Joel says. Now, every person is invited to receive the gift of the Spirit to truly become a child of God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (12:3b-7, 12-13)

Paul defines the Church as the place where “to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good”, not therefore for our own vanity, but for the good of all. And it is a free gift for all, just as the members of the body are freely at the service of the whole body. The work of the Spirit in the world resembles an immense mosaic with different pieces held together and united by the invisible action of the Spirit. As communities multiply, the mosaic spreads like wildfire and becomes ever more harmonious. In these communities, Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free men, break down the barriers of prejudice and division, recognising one another as brothers and sisters, members of a single body thanks to the one Baptism that incorporates us all into Christ. Paul certainly had good reasons to insist on unity, for the Christians in Corinth were of such diverse origins—Jews or Gentiles with conflicting sensitivities and religious traditions—and at times the early believers found it difficult to accept the newcomers. To place Jews and pagans on the same religious footing, given the weight that the election of Israel must have carried in Paul’s eyes, was nonetheless very bold! These issues and difficulties, present and highlighted by Paul in the Corinthian community, have not been absent over the centuries and persist even today within the Church. The law that animates believers is always the word of Jesus, who urged the apostles: “You know that the rulers of the nations lord it over them, and the great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” (Mt 20:25–26). Paul sees the Church not as a pyramid, but as a crowd gathered around Jesus Christ, the one Master, and, furthermore, as a living body made up of all the baptised, where those in authority do not view it as superiority, but as a mission in the service of all. Diversity becomes a mutual gift for everyone: “There are different charisms,” observes the Apostle, “and to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” Our differences thus become riches, and it is precisely through them that unity is built—a unity that is never uniformity, or worse, standardisation. Herein lies one of the great messages of Pentecost, where all the different languages come together to sing the same song, “the wonders of God”. Since then, the Church has sought to overcome differences in sensibility by learning to live through the labour of reconciliation, sustained by the Spirit given to us at Pentecost, the Spirit of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. The capacity for reconciliation and mutual respect is a true sign of the Spirit’s action and a witness that the world awaits: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another,” said Jesus at the Last Supper (Jn 13:35). Unity in diversity is a beautiful challenge that we can overcome only because the Spirit has been given to us: the same Spirit, the Spirit of Love that unites the Father and the Son. From the lesson of Babel we understand that unity does not lie in uniformity, and from Pentecost we understand that true unity in love can only be found in diversity and is always a gift of the Spirit and an image on earth of the Trinitarian communion, the perichoresis between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

From the Gospel according to John (20:19–23)

 To impart the Holy Spirit to his disciples, Jesus breathes on them; this brings to mind the famous phrase from the Book of Genesis, chapter 2: ‘The Lord God breathed into the man’s nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being’. And Psalm 103/104, which we also hear on this feast of Pentecost, comments on the text of Creation by singing: Send forth your Spirit, and all things shall be created. Now, it is the evening of Easter and Jesus takes up this gesture of the Creator. We can understand why Saint John notes: “It was the evening of that day, the first of the week”, a way of saying that it is the first day of the new creation. The Jews often recalled the creation that God had accomplished in seven days, as we read in the first chapter of Genesis, and awaited the eighth day, that of the Messiah. In his own way, John tells us: the eighth day has come and it is a true re-creation of humanity. Let us take up three phrases from the account of Pentecost that John offers us here. The first: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”; the second: “He breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit”; and the third: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them”. The first and third phrases express a mission; the second speaks of the gift, namely the Holy Spirit given to fulfil the mission received. And this mission consists in “forgiving sins”. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. Jesus is the one sent by the Father, and we, who are sent by Jesus, have the same mission as him. This speaks to our responsibility, the trust placed in us, and concerns all the baptised, since the Church has always deemed it appropriate to confirm all the baptised. Jesus’ mission, to limit ourselves to the Gospel of John, is to take away the sin of the world, indeed to “eradicate” the sin of the world, being the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sin of the world, as John the Baptist had prophesied. The Lamb, meek and humble of heart in the face of his executioners according to the prophecy of Isaiah 52–53, is the Paschal Lamb, who seals with his life the liberation of God’s people. Beyond the liberation of the chosen people from slavery in Egypt, the Gospel speaks to us of liberation from sin, hatred and violence. Jesus thus presents his mission: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” We must keep these words of the Lord in mind to understand the phrase in today’s text that is not immediately clear: “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; whose sins you do not forgive, they are not forgiven.” Or, according to another version, “Whose sins you remit, they are remitted; whose sins you do not remit, they are not remitted.” The first part of the sentence presents no difficulty, but the second may not be easily understood. It is impossible to think that God, who is Father, could fail to forgive us. The Old Testament had already highlighted that God’s forgiveness even precedes our repentance, for in God forgiveness is not a one-off act but defines his very being. God is gift and forgiveness. The hallmark of mercy is God’s bending down towards the wretched—that is, towards all of us.  The power given to the disciples—indeed, the mission entrusted to them—is to communicate and pass on God’s forgiveness. Consequently, there is the terrible responsibility, expressed in the second part of the sentence, not merely to speak the word of God’s forgiveness, but to do everything possible so that the world does not ignore this forgiveness and thus fall prey to despair. God’s forgiveness, proclaimed through words and concrete actions, makes us ‘living forgiveness’, apostles of Divine Mercy. At Pentecost, God breathes the words of forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit continues to breathe words and gestures of forgiveness into our spirit, making us ‘lambs of God’ with the power to overcome the spiral of hatred and violence. “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” to respond to violence and hatred with non-violence, meekness and forgiveness, thus hastening the arrival of the day when all humanity will live immersed in love and forgiveness: it will be the triumph of Divine Mercy!

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Ascension of the Lord (year A) and VII Easter Sunday [Thursday 14 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:1–11)

The opening verses serve as a bridge between the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel of Luke, which is also dedicated to a certain Theophilus. One begins where the other ends, namely with the account of Jesus’ Ascension, even though the two accounts do not agree on everything. The Gospel recounts Jesus’ mission and preaching; the second is dedicated to the mission and preaching of the Apostles, hence the name “Acts of the Apostles”. The parallel can be taken further: the Gospel begins and ends in Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish world and of the First Covenant; the Acts begin in Jerusalem, because the New Covenant is a continuation of the First, but they end in Rome, the crossroads of all the roads of the then-known world: the New Covenant now extends beyond the borders of Israel. For Luke, it is clear that this expansion is the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the very Spirit of Jesus and will be the inspiration of the Apostles from Pentecost onwards, so much so that the Acts are often called “the Gospel of the Spirit”. Just as Jesus had prepared for his mission with forty days in the desert after his Baptism, so too does he prepare the Church for forty days: “For forty days he appeared to them and spoke about the kingdom of God”. During a final meal, he gives his instructions: a command, a promise, a sending forth on mission. The command is almost surprising: to wait and not to move. “He instructed them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise.” That the Father’s promises would be fulfilled in Jerusalem certainly did not surprise the Eleven, all of whom were Jews, for the entire preaching of the prophets assigned Jerusalem a decisive role in the fulfilment of God’s plan. Luke specifies the content of the promise: “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’ time.” The apostles had in mind the prophecies of Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all people” (Joel 3:1–2), and of Zechariah: “On that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and impurity” (Zech 13:1)  and Ezekiel: “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be cleansed… I will give you a new heart, and  I will put a new spirit within you… I will put my Spirit within you” (Ezek 36:25–27).

The apostles’ question “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” shows that they had clearly understood that the famous Day of the Lord had dawned. Jesus’ reply should not surprise us: God calls upon human cooperation to bring about his plan, and the salvation of God, which has come through Jesus Christ, calls upon people to enter into it. For this to happen, people must know of it, and from this arises the mission and responsibility of the Apostles. The Spirit is given to them for this purpose: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” This means that between the gift of the Spirit and the definitive coming of the Kingdom there is an interval which is the time of witness: an interval that is all the longer the more the message is to be brought to all humanity. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” The Book of Acts follows this plan exactly. Just as on Easter morning “two men in dazzling robes” had torn the women away from their contemplation, saying, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen”, so on the day of the Ascension two men in white robes do the same with the Apostles: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing into the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven”. He will return, we are certain of it, and that is why we say at every Eucharist: “As we await the fulfilment of our blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ”. In the Bible, the cloud is the visible sign of God’s presence, as at the crossing of the Red Sea or at the Transfiguration. The cloud that hides Jesus from human sight is the sign that he has now entered God’s realm: his physical and visible presence thus ceases to inaugurate his spiritual presence. It is impossible to reconstruct exactly what happened between Jesus’ Resurrection, on Easter night, and the day he definitively left his apostles to return to the Father. In Luke’s accounts, in both the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, the two narratives are very similar: Jesus’ departure takes place near Jerusalem, for the Gospel speaks of Bethany and the Acts of the Mount of Olives; in both, Luke specifies that Jesus instructs the disciples not to leave Jerusalem before they have received the Holy Spirit. The only difference concerns the timing: in the Gospel, it seems that the departure takes place on Easter evening itself; after appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they return to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven everything; and it is whilst they are talking together that Jesus appears, stays with them, and explains the Scriptures; then he leads them to Bethany and there disappears from their sight for good. In Acts, however, Luke specifies that forty days elapsed between Easter and the Ascension; and this is why we celebrate the the Ascension forty days after Easter. In the other Gospels there is almost nothing on this: in Matthew there is no account of the Ascension, but only an appearance of Jesus to two women who had gone to the tomb and then to the disciples in Galilee, during which he utters the phrase with which his Gospel concludes: “ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit’ John gives a more detailed account of several appearances of the Risen One, one to Mary Magdalene and three to the disciples, the last by the Sea of Tiberias; but he does not recount the Ascension. As for Mark, he recounts the appearance to Mary Magdalene, then to two disciples who were going out into the countryside, and finally to the Eleven. Jesus sends them to preach the Gospel to the whole world, and Mark concludes by saying: “The Lord Jesus, after speaking to them, was taken up into heaven and sat at the right hand of God” . These differences between the Gospels prove that their details do not aim at historical or geographical reality: Matthew has his reasons for speaking of Galilee. Luke, on the other hand, has his own reasons for emphasising Jerusalem, because it was there that Jesus told them to wait for the gift of the Spirit, and Luke’s Gospel ends with Jesus’ final instruction: “And behold, I am sending upon you the one whom my Father has promised; but you must remain in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Lk 24:49).

Responsorial Psalm (46/47)

Here Israel sings and acclaims God as its king, and this is not surprising; but what is even more astonishing is that it says God is the king of the whole earth. Now, this was not always the view in Israel. Before the Babylonian Exile, none of the kings of Israel imagined that God was the Lord of the entire universe. This means that the psalm was composed late in the history of the chosen people. I shall focus on the first statement: God is the king of Israel. For a long period of biblical history, Israel had kings, like its neighbouring peoples, but its conception of kingship was unique, and this distinctiveness persisted throughout its history. In Israel, the king could never claim to be the highest authority in the land and did not hold absolute power, for God remained the sovereign. In other words, the true king in Israel was none other than God Himself. The king, for example, could not interpret the laws as he pleased and  had, like everyone else, to submit to the Law of God given to Moses on Mount Sinai. According to the Book of Deuteronomy, he was required to read the entire Law every day of his life. Even whilst sitting on the throne, he was, in principle, merely an executor of God’s commands conveyed by the prophets. In the Books of Kings, in fact, we often see one king or another seeking the consent of the prophet of the day before going into battle or even, in David’s case, before undertaking the construction of the Temple. And on several occasions we see the prophets intervening freely in the lives of the kings and sometimes violently criticising their behaviour. The affirmation of God’s sovereignty was even a hindrance to the establishment of the monarchy. One recalls the very violent reaction of the prophet Samuel, in the time of the Judges, when the leaders of the tribes of Israel came to tell him that they wanted a king ‘to be like the other nations’. To desire to be ‘like the other nations’ when one had the honour of being the people chosen by God for the covenant was, in his eyes, a true blasphemy. He eventually yielded to the insistence of the tribal leaders, but not without warning them that they were bringing ruin upon themselves. And when he anointed the first king, Saul, he took care to specify that he was becoming the head of God’s inheritance. The people remained God’s people and not the king’s, and the king was but a servant of God. And throughout the monarchy in Israel, the prophets took it upon themselves to remind the kings of this fundamental truth. To the extent that the Books of Kings, when recounting the successive reigns, have but one criterion of judgement: the faithfulness of each king to God’s will. One phrase recurs constantly: ‘Such-and-such a king did what was right in the eyes of the Lord’, or conversely, ‘Such-and-such a king did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord’. It is therefore in honour of God himself that our psalm deploys here the entire vocabulary otherwise reserved for the kings of the earth. The very word ‘awesome’ is a compliment; it is a common term in courtly language and is reassuring: the enemies are warned, our king will be invincible. In every line of this psalm, it is clear that we are speaking of the God of Sinai, the Lord, who is acclaimed as God and King of the entire universe. This universal dimension is very much present in the psalm, to the point of stating that “God reigns over the pagan nations”. Now, the discovery of monotheism dates only to the Babylonian Exile: until then, the people of Israel were not yet monotheists. To be monotheists means to affirm that there is only one God, the same for the entire cosmos and humanity. Before the Exile, this was not the case: it is said that Israel was ‘monolatristic’; that is, it recognised for itself a single God, the God of the Sinai Covenant. But it believed that other peoples had their own gods. This psalm was therefore probably composed after the return from the Exile, and it was not in the throne room that these acclamations resounded, but in the rebuilt Temple of Jerusalem. Even now, the Jews already imagine the Day when God will finally be recognised for what He is, the Father of all goodness. We Christians, in turn, take up this psalm. And the phrase “God ascends amidst the acclamations” is most fitting for the celebration of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Even though Christ’s kingship has not yet been fully realised and the evangelists do not recount any coronation ceremony for Christ. All the more reason to pay Jesus this magnificent tribute now, which merely anticipates the last day when all the children of God, finally gathered together, will sing: “All you peoples, clap your hands! Acclaim God with shouts of joy” 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Ephesians (1:17–23)

The Letter to the Ephesians is divided into two parts: in chapters 1–3 there is a lengthy contemplation of God’s plan, and in chapters 4–6 an exhortation to the baptised to conform their lives to this mystery. For the feast of the the Ascension, the liturgy offers a passage from the first part in Year A and from the second part in Year B. The first part begins with a lengthy blessing formula in the Jewish style, which in our Christian liturgy we might call a ‘preface’, and it concerns God’s ‘merciful plan’ (Eph 1:3–6). The baptised already share in this mysterious plan of God which, one day, will be extended to all humanity. And Paul speaks of the privilege of us Christians who, having heard the word of truth, that is, the Gospel, have received the seal of the Holy Spirit, a pledge of our inheritance, whilst we await full redemption.  We find all these terms in today’s reading, but in the form of a prayer, generally known as the ‘prayer for enlightenment’, since it takes the light of God to penetrate even a little into this mystery: “May he enlighten the eyes of your heart so that you may understand to what hope he has called you, what treasure of glory his inheritance among the saints holds…” And we know full well that the understanding of which he speaks is not a matter of reason but of the heart, a profound openness to being taught and enlightened. And Paul, as a Jew, knows full well that God’s wisdom is inaccessible to man unless God himself reveals himself to him: “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation for a deeper knowledge of him.” And what lies at the end of this knowledge towards which we are journeying? An inheritance of inestimable value, says Paul. The word “inheritance” in verse 18, and indeed in verse 14, recurs frequently in the Bible: in the Old Testament it refers to the land promised by God to the faithful. The same term is taken up in the New Testament, particularly in Paul’s letters, to denote the Kingdom and eternal life. For example: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God. And if we are children, we are also heirs: heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ’ (Rom 8:16–17). ‘Giving thanks with joy to the Father who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light’ (Col 1:12). ‘ All nations are called, in Christ Jesus, to share in the same inheritance, to form the same body and to be partakers of the same promise through the Gospel” (Eph 3:8). James also develops this theme: “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world, who are rich in faith and heirs of the Kingdom, promised to those who love him?” (Jas 2:5) .  And the Letter to the Hebrews, for its part, often takes up the theme: “God, who in times past spoke to our ancestors many times and in various ways through the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things and through whom he also made the world” (Heb 1:1–2); and a little further on: “That those who have been called may receive the eternal inheritance that was promised” (Heb 9:15) For, and this is the profound reason for Paul’s wonder, the Lord’s disciples are already associated with the triumph of their risen Master. Nothing in this world need frighten them any longer, for death has been conquered and the gates to eternal life are open. The work that God accomplishes in the hearts of believers is a true inner resurrection. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew 28:16–20

Here is Jesus’ farewell discourse, after the Resurrection, in Galilee, commonly called the ‘crossroads of the Gentiles’, the ‘Galilee of the nations’, for the Apostles’ mission now concerns ‘all nations’ . The Gospel of Matthew seems to end abruptly: but in reality, the adventure is just beginning. It is like a film in which the word “THE END” appears on a road stretching out towards infinity. For it is precisely towards infinity that Jesus sends them: the immensity of the world and the infinity of the ages. “Go… Make disciples of all nations… Until the end of the world.” But were the disciples ready for such a mission? If Jesus were a business leader, he could not risk entrusting the future of his enterprise to collaborators like these, who seem not to have fully absorbed all the training he had provided over months. They are mistaken about the objective, the timing, and the nature of the enterprise. They even go so far as to doubt the reality they are experiencing, for Matthew clearly states, “some, however, doubted” (Mt 28:17). The mission entrusted to them, fraught with risks, is to promote a message that still surprises them. Folly, the wise would say; the wisdom of God, Saint Paul would reply. This is certainly no trivial undertaking: it surpasses everything the human spirit can imagine or conceive. It is a matter of communication between God and humankind. He who kindled the spark entrusts to his disciples the task of spreading the fire: “Go! Make disciples of all nations: baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”: we do not often have the opportunity to dwell on this extraordinary formula of our faith. It is, in fact, the first formulation of the mystery of the Trinity: the expression “in the name of”, common in the Bible, signifies that there is indeed one God; at the same time, the three Persons are named and clearly distinguished: “ In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. If we recall that, in the Bible, the Name is the person, and that to baptise etymologically means “to immerse”, this means that Baptism literally immerses us in the Trinity. We understand Jesus’s peremptory command to his disciples: “Go”; there is urgency. How can we not be eager to see all humanity take advantage of this offer? At the same time, it must be said that this formula, so familiar to us, was a true revolution for the generation of Christ! Proof of this is that when the apostles Peter and John healed the lame man at the Beautiful Gate, the authorities immediately asked: “By what power or in whose name have you done this?” (Acts 4:7), because it was not permitted to invoke any name other than that of God. Jesus speaks precisely of God, but his statement mentions three persons, whereas God was one; the prophets had made this clear enough. The Jews’ misunderstanding of Christ’s followers is recorded here; persecution was inevitable. Jesus knows this, and he had warned them on the last evening: “ They will expel you from the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think they are offering worship to God, that is, they will think they are defending God’s honour (Jn 16:2)… And Jesus added: ‘They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me’ (Jn 16:3). The mission entrusted to the apostles truly seems like madness; but they are not alone, and this must never be forgotten. Insofar as our commitment is not our own but His, we have no reason to worry about the results: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go!” (Mt 28:18–19). In other words, it is we who go, but it is he who has all power. It is said that a few days after his election, John XXIII received a visit from a friend: “Most Holy Father,” he said, “how heavy the task must be!” John XXIII replied: “It’s true, in the evening, when I lie down, I think: ‘Angelo, you are the Pope,’ and I struggle to fall asleep; but after a few minutes I say to myself: ‘Angelo, how stupid you are, you are not the one in charge of the Church, it is the Holy Spirit.’ Then I turn over and fall asleep!” For us too, evangelisation must be our passion, not our anguish. Jesus made it quite clear: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” This sentence alone sums up the life of Christ: this takes place on a mountain, we do not know which one, but it evokes both the Mount of Temptation and the Mount of Transfiguration. On the Mount of Temptation, Jesus refused to receive power over creation from anyone other than the Father: “The devil took him up to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour, and said to him: “All these things I will give you if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus answered him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written: “You shall worship the Lord your God, and him alone shall you serve”’ (cf. Mt 4:8–10). This power, which Jesus did not claim nor purchase, is given to him by the Father. And now this power is in our hands! “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go! And Jesus adds, ‘I am with you always, even to the end of the age.’ The God of Presence revealed to Moses in the burning bush, the Emmanuel – which means ‘God with us’ – promised by Isaiah, are one in the Spirit of love that unites them. Ours is the mission to reveal to the world this loving presence of the Triune God.

Seventh Sunday in Easter  (year A)  [17 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:12–14)

The first sentence of the text sums up in a few words a crucial stage in the lives of the early Christians. For us it is the Ascension and we have made it a feast day, but, originally, was it not rather a day of mourning, a day of great departure? After the horror of Jesus’ Passion and death, after the splendour of the Resurrection, here they were, orphaned forever. But precisely for this reason they are closer to us, and their attitude can guide our own. Let us therefore look closely at their actions. Jesus had given them instructions: not to leave Jerusalem and to wait there for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Here is the account from the Acts: ‘While he was at table with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise. “‘What,’ he said, ‘you have heard from me: John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’” . And on the very day of his departure, on the Mount of Olives, he repeated: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” I dwell on this expression “the power of the Spirit”, which should reassure us in every circumstance. And Luke recounts: “Having said this, whilst they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.” Obviously, they obeyed the Master’s command. It is therefore no surprise to find them in Jerusalem shortly afterwards; Luke notes that the Mount of Olives is very close to the city: the distance does not exceed what is known as the ‘Sabbath journey’, that is, the maximum distance one may travel without violating the Sabbath rest; it was just under a kilometre, two thousand cubits, and a cubit, as the name suggests, is the length of the forearm, about fifty centimetres. But why does Luke give this precise measurement? Are we to infer that it was the Sabbath? Or, by emphasising the proximity of the Mount of Olives, does Luke wish to suggest that everything is fulfilled in Jerusalem? It is there that God’s plan is fulfilled: there the Son was glorified, there the Covenant between God and humanity was renewed, there the Spirit will be given. It is in the holy city, therefore, that the life of the nascent Church begins; and Luke lists those who make up the group: the Eleven, some women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, and some brothers, that is, probably disciples. Here too, the details are not merely anecdotal; we already knew the names of the apostles from Luke’s Gospel; if he gives us the list again, it is not to instruct us! Luke wishes to highlight the continuity within the community of the apostles: they are the very same who accompanied Jesus throughout his earthly life, and now they are committed to the mission. And they will be able to bear witness to the Resurrection only because they have been witnesses to the life, Passion and death of Jesus. We thus find again the group of people so different from one another whom Jesus had chosen: Peter, James, John and Andrew, fishermen on the Sea of Tiberias; Simon the Zealot—at the time of Jesus’ earthly life, this was not yet a political commitment, but it was already a sign of religious fanaticism. One wonders how he could stand alongside Matthew the tax collector, a tax collector in the pay of the occupying power and, for this reason, barred from worship! Not only did Jesus manage to bring them together around him, but they will now share the responsibility of continuing their Master’s mission. Christian tradition has identified Bartholomew with Nathanael, mentioned by Saint John, who was a specialist in the Law; if this were the case, it would have been a further point of diversity within the group of the Twelve. It is upon this community of men, so different from one another, that the proclamation of the Gospel now rests. A few brief observations: first of all, their group is not closed in on itself, but is already open to others, men and women; secondly, they begin this life of the Church in prayer, ‘devoted and of one accord’, as Luke emphasises. Perhaps the first miracle of the apostles is this praying together as one heart at the moment when the Master leaves them, and they find themselves seemingly left to their own devices and to their differences, which could have turned into divisions. In truth, they are only apparently left to their own devices: Jesus, though now invisible, is not absent. Matthew, in his Gospel, has preserved one of Jesus’ final words: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’ The apostles, therefore, do not pray for Jesus to draw near: his presence is assured; they pray to immerse themselves once more in his presence. This account from the Acts of the Apostles becomes for us a powerful lesson in hope: Jesus is with us always, his presence is assured, and the power of the Holy Spirit accompanies us! 

Responsorial Psalm (26/27)

This psalm is for those going through difficult times. Believers are not exempt from life’s trials, and faith is no magic wand. Sometimes they suffer precisely because of their faith, as in religious wars or persecutions, or due to the hostility of atheists and the struggle to defend Christian values in a world that does not share them. We shall find an example of this in the Letter of Saint Peter, this Sunday’s second reading. But in their trials, believers know they are not alone, abandoned to their sad fate, for they have someone to turn to: “It is to God that my eyes weep,” said Job (Job 16:20). And they go to seek strength where it is found, that is, in God. “The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?” We do not know to which specific trials this psalm alludes; incidentally, it is much longer than the few verses read here, but the missing verses provide no historical details. Here and there one senses an allusion to external attacks: “The Lord is the bulwark of my life: before whom should I tremble?”. Ever since the great adventure of the Exodus, Israel has been threatened in its very existence on numerous occasions. The first verse, “The Lord is my light and my salvation”, is probably also an allusion to the Exodus under Moses’s leadership: in the Sinai desert, the pillar of cloud lit the way and signified God’s presence. Salvation, then, meant escaping from Pharaoh; in every age, salvation takes different forms, and Israel has experienced all manner of them, evoked through allusions in the psalm. To say “The Lord is the bulwark of my life” brings to mind the long period of wars, and the best bulwark is the strength that God gives us. “If you do not believe, you will not stand firm,” Isaiah said to King Ahaz (Is 7:9). Faith is the only strength that enables us to face everything: “Whom shall I fear?”. This means that God protects us from all fear and that we do not even fear Him. In all trials and sufferings, the believer knows that they can cry out to God: indeed, it is even recommended in the Bible, for groaning, weeping and praying is not cowardly, but simply human, and it is to God that we must groan, weep and pray. “Hear, O Lord, I call upon you,” says the psalm, and of one thing the chosen people are certain: that God hears our cry. Let us think of the great revelation of the Burning Bush: “The cry of the children of Israel has come to me,” God said to Moses (Ex. 3:7–9). And from that day Israel has known that God hears the cry of those who suffer. We read in the psalm: “One thing I have asked of the Lord, this alone I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life”: like the Levite, admitted into the inner sanctum of the temple in Jerusalem, Israel asks for the grace to dwell in the presence of God. “Have mercy, answer me,” is a beggar’s cry and also a plea for forgiveness, for the expression that follows, “Seek my face,” is a call to conversion; for ever since settling in the Promised Land, the people have faced a new danger: that of unfaithfulness, that is, idolatry. However, when we read “Seek my face”, it is not God who thirsts for our homage and asks something of us for his own sake. God loves us, and all the commandments are for our happiness. St Augustine states: “Everything that man does for God benefits man and not God”. For God, the centre of the world is humanity, and He has no other purpose than our happiness—a happiness we find only when God is at the centre of our lives, for as St Augustine said: “You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” It is interesting to compare Psalm 26/27 with the Canticle of Zechariah, which we sing every morning in the Liturgy of the Hours.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (4:13–16)

In the early days of the Church, as we know from the Acts of the Apostles, the first disciples of Christ did not yet bear this name; they were called ‘Nazarenes’, because of Nazareth, and this name, used by the Jews who refused to recognise Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah awaited by Israel, was a derogatory term. Later, when Barnabas and Paul were carrying out their mission in Antioch of Syria, it was probably pagans who had not yet converted to the Christian Church who gave Jesus’ disciples the name ‘Christians’, which means ‘of Christ, belonging to Christ’. This new title of ‘Christian’ was not an honour either. The unconverted pagans viewed with suspicion the radical change of life taking place within the community of the baptised. Shortly before, in his letter, Peter writes: ‘They find it strange that you no longer rush with them towards the same torrent of perdition, and they revile you’; ‘They slander you, treating you as evildoers’. Here, Saint Peter speaks of the sufferings—that is, the misunderstanding, the isolation, the slander—of which Jesus was a victim because he continued to proclaim his message without letting anyone stop him, with that fidelity that cost him his life. In turn, the early Christians face the same hostility, and Peter seeks to give them the courage to hold firm whilst awaiting the day when the glory of Christ will be revealed—that is, the day when Jesus will come to inaugurate his kingdom among men. Peter goes even further: not only must one not be ashamed, but on the contrary, the title of ‘Christian’ is, in his eyes, the highest dignity: “Rejoice,” he tells them, because of the name ‘Christian’, which means ‘belonging to Christ’. Furthermore, when he says: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…” he is speaking of the Beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus: “Blessed are you when they revile you, persecute you and, lying, say all sorts of evil against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great!” . And Jesus, in saying this, was describing himself. Now Peter applies this description to those who, in turn, bear the name of Christ. He even says that “you share in the sufferings of Christ”, which means: “rejoice because you are intimately united with Christ in these sufferings you endure to remain faithful to his name and his mission. And since you are united to his sufferings, you will likewise be united to his glory on the day when the truth will burst forth.” It is clear, however, that suffering is not an end in itself, but the goal is to be united to Christ and to God in the Spirit of love, whatever the circumstances—happy or unhappy—may be in our lives. And Peter points to a way of facing persecution for the sake of Christ’s name: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…”. Here is a proclamation and an encouragement, for the day will come when Christ will be recognised by all, and you along with him; and on that day it will be recognised that you were not mistaken because Christ had deceived you. We therefore need the courage to persevere, for you have chosen the right path. The Book of Acts recounts that after being flogged, Peter and John “left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus”. Peter was only able to do this after Pentecost: one must be filled with the Spirit of Jesus to have the courage to face persecution in his name and to know that mysterious joy of being in communion with him, even in suffering, that joy which no one can take from us! The Church offers us this text from Peter as we await Pentecost, a special time for rediscovering the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of our communities. 

From the Gospel according to John (17:1b-11a)

These final words of Jesus: “I am coming to you” mysteriously draw us into Jesus’ prayer at the very moment he is about to reach the Father: “I am coming to you”. It is the Hour of the great passage: “Father, the hour has come”, that Hour of which he spoke many times during his earthly life, that Hour which he seemed both to desire and to fear. It is the decisive Hour, central to all human history, the Hour which all creation awaits as a birth: for it is the Hour of the fulfilment of God’s plan. From now on, nothing will ever be the same again. In this decisive Hour, the mystery of the Father will finally be revealed to the world: this is why Jesus repeatedly uses the words “glory” and “glorify”. A person’s glory, in the biblical sense, is not their fame or the recognition of others; it is their true worth. The glory of God is therefore God Himself, who reveals Himself to mankind in all the splendour of His holiness. The verb ‘to glorify’ can be replaced with ‘to reveal’. In this decisive Hour, God will be glorified, revealed in the Son, and believers will finally ‘know’ the Father; they will enter into that intimacy which unites the Son to the Father, and which the Son communicates to mankind. Those who accept this revelation and believe in Jesus will enter into this intimacy with the Father: they will enter into true life: “Eternal life is that they may know you, the one true God, and the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ”. Here, from the very mouth of Jesus, is a definition of eternal life: Jesus speaks in the present tense and describes eternal life as the state of those who know God and Christ. We already live this life from the moment of our Baptism. Speaking of his disciples, Jesus says: “They have truly known that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me.”  At that moment, only a portion of humanity received this revelation and entered into the communion of love offered by the Father, accepting to take the path opened by the Son; and it is for these few alone that Jesus prays: “I pray for them; I do not pray for the world, but for those whom you have given me…” It is the mystery of God’s choices that is repeated: just as the Father had chosen Abraham to reveal his great plan to him, he chose certain members of Abraham’s lineage to bring the revelation of his mystery to fulfilment: “I have made your name known to the people you have given me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you…” . For this small chosen people, the hour has come to continue the work of revelation: “I am no longer in the world; they, however, are in the world, and I am coming to you.” Jesus passes the baton to us in a way: he has given us everything; now it is up to us to give it to others. We must let Jesus’ insistence on the word “give” resound within us: the Father has given authority to the Son… the Son will give eternal life to mankind… the Father has given mankind to the Son… the Father has given his words to the Son… and the Son has given these words to his brothers. Jesus’ emphasis on the verb ‘to give’ permeates the entire biblical meditation: our relationship with God is not a matter of calculation. It is enough for us to allow ourselves to be loved and continually filled with his grace. The word ‘grace’ means a free gift. The logic of the gift, of gratuitousness, is that of the Son who lives eternally in a dialogue of love with the Father. In the prologue to his Gospel, John says that the Son is eternally ‘turned towards the Father’ (Jn 1:18) (“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the Father’s bosom, he has made him known.” The expression “in the Father’s bosom” (from the Greek eis ton kolpon tou Patros) is interpreted as: “turned towards the Father”, “in intimate communion with the Father”, “in the Father’s intimacy”. Thus the idea that the Son is eternally “turned towards the Father” arises from this verse, even though the expression “turned towards the Father” is a theological paraphrase, not a literal quotation. And since there is no shadow between them, he reflects the Father’s glory: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”. Between them, everything is love, dialogue, sharing: “All that is mine is yours, and all that is yours is mine”. The Prologue of John’s Gospel is illuminated by the reading of this prayer of Jesus; it is, as it were, its transposition (Jn 1:1–18).

+Giovanni D’Ercole