25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [20 September 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (55:6–9)

‘Seek the Lord, for he is to be found.’ Isaiah’s message does not mean: ‘Hurry, for God might withdraw.’ On the contrary: God is always near and always allows himself to be found. It is we, in our freedom, who turn away from him, and sometimes we even lose the desire to seek him.

Isaiah speaks to a discouraged people, exiled to Babylon and convinced that God has abandoned them. The prophet urges them to reject this idea: God’s silence does not mean His absence, and God is not far away, inaccessible or incapable of forgiving. On the contrary, He is ‘abundant in forgiveness’. The fundamental theme is therefore that of return: when we think of God as a harsh, vengeful or indifferent judge, we turn away from Him. When, on the other hand, we turn back to Him, we discover His true face: a tender, merciful God, ready to forgive. This revelation runs throughout the Bible. Hosea presents God as the One who sets aside His anger because His heart is full of compassion. Jeremiah speaks of thoughts of peace, capable of bestowing a future and hope. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that God causes the sun to rise on the good and the bad and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Even Jonah rebukes God because his compassion towards Israel’s enemies is ‘tender and merciful’. God is the ‘Wholly Other’ and the ‘Wholly Near’. Isaiah declares: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are my ways your ways.’ God is infinitely different from us, but it is precisely this difference that reveals something extraordinary: God loves and forgives without keeping score. We are often accustomed to the logic of give and take: we think that the good should be rewarded and the wicked punished; we tally up our merits and ask ourselves whether we are worthy of forgiveness. God, on the other hand, does not ask us to ‘earn’ his love. His forgiveness is grace; it is freely given. The real question, therefore, is not whether God is willing to forgive us, but whether we are willing to accept his forgiveness. As the text from Chronicles says: ‘If my people […] turn from their wicked ways, I will hear them, I will forgive their sin and heal them.’ It is not God who attaches a condition to his love: it is we who must open ourselves up in order to receive it. Finally, ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts’ also calls us to humility and tolerance. Since God infinitely transcends our understanding, no one can claim to possess the full truth about him. Speaking of God therefore requires humility and a willingness to listen. In short, God does not turn away from us: it is we who turn away from Him. And when we return, we do not find a stern God who holds us to account for our mistakes, but a Father who is ever near, tender, merciful and rich in forgiveness. His love cannot be bought or earned: it is received freely. 

Responsorial Psalm (144/145) 

‘The Lord is good to all.’ Psalm 144/145 harmonises perfectly with the message of the prophet Isaiah: God is full of mercy, rich in forgiveness, and continually invites humanity to return to Him. The psalm is the response of one who has rediscovered faith: ‘I will bless you every day; I will praise your name for ever.’ It is an ‘alphabetical’ psalm: from beginning to end, from A to Z, the whole of life is steeped in God’s covenant, His tenderness and His greatness. The psalm proclaims: ‘Great is the Lord and worthy of all praise; His greatness is without end.’ Isaiah expresses the same idea by saying that God’s thoughts and ways are infinitely superior to our own. But God’s greatness is not that of human power, wealth or success. God’s true greatness lies in his love and, above all, in his capacity to forgive. The same principle applies to human beings: true greatness does not lie in dominating others, but in knowing how to love. This is natural, for we are created in God’s image. A justice different from our own The psalm states: ‘The Lord is good to all; his compassion extends to all his creatures.’ God’s forgiveness is not reserved for a select few: it is offered to everyone, even to the sinner who returns to him. Our idea of justice leads us to think that those who have sinned greatly should receive a greater punishment. God, however, invites us to change our perspective: God’s justice is not that of the scales, but that of love. This is also shown in the parable of the labourers of the last hour: everyone receives the same wage, regardless of the number of hours worked. Jesus thus teaches us that God’s love does not operate according to our calculations of merit, seniority or reward. His generosity takes nothing away from anyone. God is close to everyone. The psalm concludes: ‘ The Lord is close to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in sincerity’. God’s goodness is for everyone. His greatness is his love; his justice is mercy; and his forgiveness is not measured by our merits. And when we discover this logic, we are called not only to accept his forgiveness, but also to rejoice in the good he bestows upon others, without envy or judgement. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians 

‘For me, to live is Christ.’ The Letter to the Philippians is particularly moving because it combines Paul’s great passion for Christ and for his mission with his human and fraternal affection for the people he encountered. Paul writes whilst in prison and facing the threat of death. Yet he affirms with great serenity: ‘Christ will be glorified in my body, whether I live or die’, that is, in his person and in his life. If he is set free, he will be able to continue proclaiming the Gospel; if, on the other hand, he dies, even his martyrdom will become a testimony to faith in the Resurrection. For Paul, therefore, whatever happens can become an opportunity to make Christ known. Even his imprisonment has helped to encourage other Christians to proclaim the Word. ‘For me, to live is Christ’ When Paul says: ‘For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain’, he expresses the very heart of his existence: Christ is his reason for living. To live means to belong to Christ and to serve him; to die means to enter fully into communion with him. Paul does indeed long to depart so that he may be with Christ, yet he does not wish to shirk the mission entrusted to him. He is torn between two desires: on the one hand, he longs to be with Christ once and for all; on the other, he knows that his presence can be of service to others. Ultimately, what matters to him is not his own interest, but the good of the communities and the spread of the Gospel. The only thing that matters is the Gospel. Paul thus leaves us with a very important question: what do we live for? For him, the answer is clear: to live means to belong to Christ and to place one’s life at the service of the Gospel. He regards his own life as a gift to be spent on others. This is why he concludes by exhorting the Philippians: ‘Conduct yourselves, then, in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ’. It is not simply a matter of being morally upright people. It means taking the Gospel seriously and making it visible through one’s life, one’s words and one’s service. To live for Christ means transforming one’s whole life into a testimony to God’s love.  

From the Gospel according to Matthew (20:1–16a) 

Let us set aside our bookkeeper’s logic. This is the logic presented to us in the parable of the labourers in the vineyard. By our standards, it seems unfair: those who have worked all day receive the same pay as those who arrived at the last hour, but Jesus makes it clear straight away that he is not speaking of a normal business, but of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’. And in the Kingdom of God, different criteria apply from our own: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts,’ says the Lord. The central point of the parable is what it reveals about God: ‘I am good’. God’s goodness does not keep score, does not measure merits, and does not determine how much love each person has ‘earned’. In the Kingdom of God, there is no tally of merits. We, on the other hand, are often tempted to keep track of everything: sacrifices, sufferings, prayers, good works. We think that all this gives us ‘rights’ before God. Jesus invites us to completely change this mindset.

‘Are you envious because I am good?’ The workers hired at the first hour protest: ‘You treat them just like us!’, whilst thinking: ‘We deserve more.’ But love does not operate according to the logic of merit. Love cannot be bought or earned: it is received as a gift. God’s justice does not consist in distributing according to our calculations, but in loving each of his children fully and without measure. The same logic runs through the whole of the Bible: God forgives the people of Nineveh even though they are pagans; Jesus welcomes tax collectors and sinners; the father in the parable joyfully welcomes the prodigal son. And on the cross, the good thief, at the very last moment, turns to Jesus and receives the promise of Paradise. Who can call themselves a ‘worker of the first hour’? In reality, the parable should console us. Who amongst us can truly consider themselves a worker of the first hour? We are all, in some way, workers of the last hour. We all live by God’s mercy and free grace. The problem arises when we look at others with envy and think that God is too good to them. That is when our eyes become evil. The lesson, therefore, is an invitation to abandon the mindset of comparison, merit and calculation, and to enter into the logic of grace. In short, God does not love us according to our merits: he loves us freely, fully and without measure. True conversion consists in abandoning our ‘accountant’s logic’ and learning to see through God’s eyes. We must not ask ourselves who deserves more, but rejoice because God is good to everyone. ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are not your ways’ (Isaiah). God’s justice is, ultimately, the justice of love and mercy.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

And the Feet of Jesus, kissed by the unexpected and censored guest

(Lk 7:36-50)

It is Love that path of perfection desired by God to make us grow, and to our benefit - not a formalism sterilised by strict censors.

What unites us seriously in beliefs comes from within, from our Core; it does not depend on the outside.

Love is not planned at a desk or on the basis of models. It expresses the heart with sincerity.

It is not a reality that is subject to distances that deem others to be nosy.

So empathy and loving-kindness do not appear or disappear on command, according to code or season.

They belong to the deep side of being women and men of all times.

It is passion that can lead one's existence in the Spirit in a valuable way, not a ritual landscape.

Love with all our heart is triggered when we need to make the decisive Encounter: that opportunity we feel will open the door to resources, skills, talents, energies, otherwise unexpressed or stifled.

Dissolving her hair in public, the 'sinner woman' almost seems to be a figure of the 'lesser boat' that offers no resistance but only support to the protagonist one (Lk 5.2.7.11).

It is a spurious and second community, compared to the official church of the apostles who are always “close” - and of mixed cultural extraction, unlike the first community which was still Judaizing.

She comes to the You-for-you with a gesture of independence: she needs a more spontaneous and personal relationship with the Lord, the only one who looks at her in a non-superficial way.

Relationship impeded precisely by those who crowd around Him, but do not appreciate the favour received, although they have been partaking of the [Eucharistic] banquet for a long time.

The ‘safety’ of mechanisms and ideas laced with prejudice prevents one from experiencing the Gratis. Here is the link between tears and Forgiveness.

He who pushes away the unpredictable does not unleash any new inner strength. He fears any jolt that might shatter his habitual, plastered world.

Habituals block any emancipation or discovery. They dislike people who need to free themselves from the straits of life.

They are not worshippers of the great Master's Way [cf. the constant reference to his «Feet»].

Total intimate adherence comes before anything we can fulfil or think.

The all-human transport without curtains is that which would not make us overburdened with arrogance and unable to recognise his Gifts.

He who is convinced that he gives something to God, certainly does not love him.

And the choice that concerns us is between negligible details or getting to the heart of the authentic Relationship.

On this floor, the Home master is immediately dizzy.

Simon is frightened by the very idea of the Master attempting to bring him into a new logic: «I suppose...» (v.43).

The Gospel passage is meant to make us reflect on who is most willing to grow and love.

Let us ask ourselves: are they the ones who [like Simon] can set up respectable screens, or the small souls who spontaneously approach their 'source' - devoid of social masks?

In short, Redemption is the fruit of moved personal immediacy, even already achieved without works of law.

[Thursday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 17, 2026]

(Lk 7:36-8:3)

Intruder Love, in the respectable House of Simon

And the Feet of Jesus, kissed by the unexpected and censured guest

(Lk 7,36-50)

"Simon, a Pharisee and rich "notable" of the city, held a banquet in his house in honour of Jesus. Unexpectedly from the back of the room enters a guest neither invited nor expected: a notorious prostitute. The unease of those present is understandable, but the woman does not seem to mind. She advances and, rather furtively, stops at the feet of Jesus. His words of forgiveness and hope for all, including prostitutes, have reached her ear; she is moved and stands there silently. She bathes Jesus' feet with her tears, dries them with her hair, kisses them and anoints them with a sweet perfume. In doing so, the sinner wants to express her affection and gratitude towards the Lord with gestures familiar to her, even if socially censured.

Faced with general embarrassment, it is Jesus himself who addresses the situation: 'Simon, I have something to tell you'. "Go ahead, Master," the landlord replies to him. We are all familiar with Jesus' response in a parable that could be summed up in the following words that the Lord basically says to Simon: 'See? This woman knows she is a sinner and, moved by love, she asks for understanding and forgiveness. You, on the other hand, presume to be righteous and are perhaps convinced that you have nothing serious to be forgiven'.

The message from the Gospel passage is eloquent: to those who love much, God forgives all things. He who trusts in himself and his own merits is as if blinded by his ego and his heart hardens in sin. On the other hand, he who recognises himself as weak and a sinner entrusts himself to God and from Him obtains grace and forgiveness".

[Pope Benedict, Audience to the participants in the course of the Apostolic Penitentiary, 7 March 2008].

It is Love that path of perfection desired by God to make us grow, and to our benefit - not the sterilised formalism and coercive power set up in Simon's House (in the Church, by Peter and other strict censors).

What unites seriously in conviction comes from within, from our Core; it does not depend on the outside.

Love does not programme itself at a desk or on the basis of sacred models, nor does it endure cerebral and moralistic binaries. It expresses the heart with sincerity.

It is not a reality that is subject to social distances, class - or circle more or less disciplined by the profession (dependent on the 'behind the scenes') that resists the obligation to unite with the different, deemed inadequate impure meddlers.

So empathy and loving-kindness do not appear or disappear on command, by design and according to code, discipline, season.

They belong to the deep side of being women and men of all times.

It is not façade respectability, nor ritual landscape, that can lead one's existence in the Spirit in a worthy manner, but passion.

Here is the link between tears and forgiveness.

Hetero-directed formalisms - with their unfestive formulas that do not belong to us - annihilate our essence and our most powerful emotions.

The social pact demanded by the gerontocracy is a reference always outside of us: and it will be the usual good of tradition, of opinion, of surroundings, of calculation in situation, of manners and of 'spin'; in any case, of others.

Are we really empty losers, or destined only to have to support the veterans, with no room for critical witness and active language? 

And underneath imitating 'fathers', models, codes already designed (even down to the tiniest detail) for the use of the traditional sentiments of increasingly aged assemblies?

Love with all our hearts is triggered when we need to make the decisive encounter: that opportunity we feel will open the door to resources, capacities, talents, energies, otherwise unexpressed or stifled.

By letting her hair down in public, the 'sinner' almost seems to be a figure of the lesser 'boat', which offers itself and offers no resistance but only support to the protagonist (Lk 5.2.7.11).

It is a spurious and second community, compared to the official church of the apostles who are always 'close' - and of mixed cultural extraction, unlike the first community that was still Judaizing.

It proposes itself to the You-for-you with a gesture of independence: it needs a more spontaneous and personal relationship with the Lord, the only one who looks at it in a non-superficial way.

A relationship impeded precisely by those who crowd around Him, but to gag Him, and to lie down.

The regulars - all predictable - do not appreciate the favour they receive, although they have been partaking of the (Eucharistic) banquet for a long time, but now only as practitioners of the most reiterated litanies.

The 'security' of mechanisms and ideas laced with prejudice prevents them from experiencing the Gratis.

Instead of welcoming, the old guides pushed away; they lived only with their followers - servants and courtiers - in the world of archaic incantations.

They did not bring forth any new inner strength. They feared any jolt that might crack their pedestal.

They blocked any emancipation or discovery. They were not worshippers of people who needed to free themselves from the straits of life.

They were not worshippers of the Master's great Path (cf. the constant reference to his 'feet') but slavish merchants of abstract signs - already established or smuggled in - and of a Jesus reduced to a motionless sphinx (or devout, ritual and 'cultural' icon).

Total intimate adherence comes before anything we can fulfil or think. It does not combine with positional opportunism for Christ.

All-human transport without curtains is what would not make us overburdened with arrogance and unable to recognise his Gifts.

He who is convinced that he gives God something, certainly does not love him. He cares only for himself: the predatory, deceitful appearance.

Even today, the choice that concerns us is between negligible details or entering into the heart of authentic Relationship.

On this level, the Master of the House suffered dizziness right from the start.

Simon is frightened by the mere idea of the Master attempting to make him enter into a new logic: "I suppose..." (v.43).

He fears the looming of any alternative jolt that might crack his habitual, congealed world.

While the real world follows its cycles, the entrenched ones demand stability - but in doing so they stunt growth.

Instead, by accepting the unforeseen, we discover unexplored sides, juxtaposing inherent potentials that we had not allowed space for.

Continuous change is simply the spice of life. And the very end of a religious-cultural paradigm is inevitable.

Therefore, it becomes essential to take a genuine attitude, and get involved.

Salvation is the fruit of moved personal immediacy, and even already obtained without works of law: not labour relations and hypocrisy [overtime against compensation] in aseptic environments, with aged, addicted and mouldy hearts.

In short, the Gospel passage is meant to make us reflect on who is more willing to love: those who can set up screens behind which they can allow themselves even that which they blatantly deny... or the little souls who spontaneously approach their 'source' - devoid of social masks?

To internalise and live the message:

Looking at our behaviour, would the outcasts from the respectable circle be certain to be spontaneously and freely welcomed by us today?

Women

(Lk 8:1-3)

The rabbis did not accept women in their schools because they were considered not up to the task.

But Jesus does not come to teach laws or philosophies, but to gather around himself the despised and the non-people of all times.

In Christ, everyone is opened to hope. Those considered worthless proclaim and witness God's love for the little ones and the least.

All with delicacy, and here are the female figures: the narcissism of the masquerade is replaced by fidelity.

In women, piety arises spontaneously (it is not conceived as it is for us males: immediately at the goal and a source of gain).

With them also vanishes the performance anxiety that accompanies men, who also on the good must immediately appear by setting up platforms and défilés; be noticed, cultivate public and private relations that count, and make a career out of it. A syndrome still well established.

Jesus conquers women's hearts because he understands their generosity, their depth of feeling, their capacity for dedication and personal relationships, for extreme self-giving; sensitivity, faith-love, patience, meekness, generosity, the capacity for effort and suffering.

Each of us can testify to the importance of these notes that are often unknown to the scrounging world of the entitled, who go straight to cutting and separating, organising instead of welcoming, judging instead of dialoguing, believing themselves to be someone at all costs - often setting up childish lies.

Or for those who prefer to wallow in tavern life, to waste time frittering it away or just for themselves, rather than use it well and treasure it: instead of 'killing it', women fill it to the brim.

Jesus does not want a humanity inclined to be appreciated more than to concealment, inclined to talk more than to perceive; inclined to organise-planning more than to meditate - and to sense the depth of our Roots.

The prevalence or balance of the feminine aspect is an opportune counterbalance to a Christian world... in the West unbalanced on the masculine: prone to dirigisme and the exercise of the will rather than the cultivation of childlike feeling.Happy is that vocation that is accompanied by intensity, depth, delicacy, the ability to wait and at the same time coherence to principles (never sold out to the highest bidder) and participation in destiny - typical aspects of feminine sensitivity and the world of consecrated women.

Having received personal grace from an aunt and cousins who were nuns (as well as the gift of spectacular female memories similar to Mary of Nazareth in the family), I suspect that the brushstroke of Lk is testimony to the fundamental weight of women even as managers, coordinators, supporters and sensitive animators of the first fraternal realities and assemblies of followers.

Perhaps that of Mary, Joan, Susanna, Peter's mother-in-law and many others in the early days was a role comparable to that of Martha in the family of Bethany.

Unfortunately, later ecclesiastical convention did not give weight to the unquestionable fact of women's discipleship, flattening out to male discipleship - a disvalue that we are beginning to pay for in an obvious way (but it is a grace: nothing would move, otherwise).

In Lk, the women's story expresses the action of the Risen One. He accepts them as followers and disciples. In the female figures we read in watermark the story of humanity that in Christ rises up and assumes dignity - instead of being further harassed.

It becomes fraternal in pain (instead of only in victory), it prepares nourishment (instead of taking it away), it persists without mannerism.

It is a church of authentic struggle, from within, and in such acting with frankness it even becomes an icon of prayer (instead of keeping to the minimum and doing a lot of diplomacy, then manipulating the naive, and only showing off).

She is a model of dedication and self-giving, instead of calculation and cunning (ways of subterfuge; contrived, deliberate).

Women ready for life - type of the Annunciation: Treasure unleashing the Spirit, which conversely males cunningly want to keep for themselves (to master it, making it one-sided).

The Jesus on the road with the Twelve (v.1) still has a long way to go, precisely in our realities consolidated by traditions that are considered unquestionable, but narrow, stubborn, stifling, puerile and deaf.

They remain on the surface, thus blocking the expressions of life. The magic of the feminine, on the other hand, knows how to welcome the individual and listen to events, always being in the field to realise what characterises us.

Women learn from their essence, so they know how to attract, they know what is needed, they understand where and how to proceed, they are present in the present - and without superintending they solve problems.

To internalise and live the message:

Would you rather be spiritually accompanied by a woman or a man? Why?

Doesn't pastoral work that is languishing have to do with unilateral chains of command, in which you fear losing 'position'?

Do you also feel called to a spiritual synthesis of personalities, with all the virtue and completeness that comes from a varied nature?

Simon, a Pharisee and rich 'notable' of the city, holds a banquet in his house in honour of Jesus. Unexpectedly from the back of the room enters a guest who was neither invited nor expected: a notorious prostitute. The unease of those present is understandable, but the woman does not seem to mind. She advances and, rather furtively, stops at the feet of Jesus. His words of forgiveness and hope for all, even the prostitutes, have reached her ear; she is moved and stands there silently. She bathes Jesus' feet with her tears, dries them with her hair, kisses them and anoints them with a sweet perfume. In doing so, the sinner wants to express her affection and gratitude towards the Lord with gestures that are familiar to her, even if socially censured.

Faced with general embarrassment, it is Jesus himself who addresses the situation: 'Simon, I have something to tell you'. "Go ahead, Master," the landlord replies to him. We are all familiar with Jesus' response in a parable that could be summed up in the following words that the Lord basically says to Simon: 'See? This woman knows she is a sinner and, moved by love, she asks for understanding and forgiveness. You, on the other hand, presume to be righteous and are perhaps convinced that you have nothing serious to be forgiven'.

The message from the Gospel passage is eloquent: to those who love much, God forgives all things. He who trusts in himself and his own merits is as if blinded by his ego and his heart hardens in sin. Instead, he who recognises himself as weak and a sinner entrusts himself to God and from Him obtains grace and forgiveness.

[Pope Benedict, Audience to the participants in the course of the Apostolic Penitentiary, 7 March 2008]

2. In the light of Revelation, however, we know with consoling certainty that God understands human weakness and is ready to forgive. He is a Father rich in love and mercy. This is eloquently demonstrated to us in the account of the "sinful woman" who, repentant and confiding, honours Jesus in the house of Simon the Pharisee.

To Simon Jesus says, referring to the sinful woman: "Her many sins are forgiven, because she has loved much!"; and to the woman: "Your faith has saved you; go in peace!". Jesus affirms with divine authority the forgiveness of sins. He simultaneously demands repentance and a change of life.

3. Dear Brothers and Sisters! Let us always keep alive in us a sense of trust in God's goodness and mercy. There is no sin that God does not want to forgive, when one is repentant and resolved never to sin again. The repentance of the Magdalene and the parable told by Jesus to Simon are in this respect very rich in meaning. Decisive, of course, must be the condemnation of evil, but understanding and patience is needed towards the one who sins. The liturgy thus invites us to be messengers of truth and mercy, of forgiveness and joy.

We find ourselves at the Grotto of the Virgin, which recalls that of Lourdes. We recall the definition that St Bernadette gave of sin: "Sinner is he who loves sin!". Invited to go to the Grotto of Massabielle, to ask and possibly obtain from Our Lady a cure for her illness, Bernadette replied: "Lourdes is not for me! Lourdes is for poor sinners!".

Let us invoke Mary Most Holy for the salvation of sinners; let us pray that faith in the Lord, who awaits his children with infinite love and mercy, may never fail in believers.

"Blessed is the man whose guilt is forgiven and whose sin is forgiven!" (Ps 32)

[Pope John Paul II, homily 18 June 1995]

Today we would like to stop and wonder at an aspect of mercy which is well presented in the passage we heard from the Gospel of Luke. It deals with something that happened to Jesus while he was the guest of a Pharisee called Simon. He wanted to invite Jesus to his home because he had heard others speak well of him as a great prophet. And while they were seated at a meal, there entered a woman, known throughout the city to be a sinner. This woman, without saying a word, threw herself at Jesus’ feet and burst into tears; her tears bathed the feet of Jesus and she dried them with her hair, then kissed them and anointed them with the perfumed oil she had brought with her.

Two figures stand out: Simon, the zealous servant of the law, and the anonymous sinful woman. While the former judges others based on appearances, the latter, through her actions, expresses the sincerity of her heart. Simon, though having invited Jesus, does not want to compromise himself or entangle his life with the Master; the woman, on the contrary, entrusts herself completely to him with love and veneration.

The Pharisee cannot fathom why Jesus would let himself be “contaminated” by sinners. He thinks that were Jesus a real prophet he would recognize them and keep his distance in order to keep from being sullied, as if they were lepers. This attitude is typical of a certain way of understanding religion, and it is based on the fact that God and sin are radically opposed. The Word of God, however, teaches us to distinguish sin from the sinner: one should not have to compromise with sin, but sinners — that is, all of us! — are like the sick, who need to be treated. And in order to heal them the doctor needs to get close, examine them, touch them. Naturally, the sick person, in order to be healed, must recognize that he needs the doctor!

Between the Pharisee and the sinful woman, Jesus sides with the latter. Jesus, free of the prejudices that hinder the expression of mercy, lets her do it. He, the Holy One of God, lets her touch him without fear of contamination. Jesus is free, because he is close to God who is the merciful Father. And this closeness to God, the merciful Father, gives Jesus freedom. Furthermore, by entering into a relationship with the sinner, Jesus puts an end to that state of isolation to which the ruthless judgment of the Pharisee and of her fellow citizens — the same who exploited her — had condemned her: “Your sins are forgiven” (Lk 7:48). The woman can now go “in peace”. The Lord sees the sincerity of her faith and conversion; thus before everyone he proclaims: “Your faith has saved you” (v. 50). On one side there is the lawyer’s hypocrisy, on the other, the sincerity, humility and faith of the woman. We are all sinners, but too often we fall into the temptation of hypocrisy, of believing ourselves to be better than others and we say: “Just look at your sin...”. We all need, however, to look to our own sins, our own shortcomings, our own mistakes, and to look to the Lord. This is the lifeline of salvation: the relation between the “I” of the sinner and the Lord. If I feel I am righteous, there is no saving relationship.

At this point, an even greater wonder assails all those at the table: “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” (v. 49). Jesus does not answer explicitly, but the conversion of the sinner is before the eyes of all and it shows that from him there emanates the power of the mercy of God, which is able to transform hearts.

The sinful woman teaches us the connection between faith, love, and recognition. “Many sins” have been forgiven her and therefore she has loved much; “but he who is forgiven little, loves little” (v. 47). Even Simon himself has to admit that the one who is guiltiest loves more. God has wrapped each and every one of us in the same mystery of mercy; and from his love, which always comes to us first, we learn how to love. As St Paul recalls: “in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to his grace which he lavished on us” (Eph 1:7-8). In this passage, “grace” is virtually synonymous with mercy, and we are told that God has “lavished” it upon us, meaning that it far exceeds our expectations, since it brings to fulfillment God’s saving plan for each one of us.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us recognize the gift of faith, let us give thanks to the Lord for his love which is so great and unmerited! Let us allow the love of Christ be poured into us: the disciple draws from this love and founds himself on it; from this love each one of us can be nourished and fed. Thus, in the grateful love that we in turn pour out upon our brothers and sisters, in our homes, in our families and in our societies, the mercy of the Lord may be communicated to everyone.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 20 April 2016]

Stubbornness

(Lk 7:31-35)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realize the enormous difference between common religious belief, and Faith.

They emancipate us by overturning positions: those who used to feel defended and secure - or on the crest of the wave [fashionable] - now seem to understand nothing of God's action in us.

As the ‘providence of the new’ makes its way in, those who are tied to stagnant or fanciful forms stubbornly try to cling to them in order to curb the authenticities - which are nonetheless rampant.

The new leaders of the people and the veterans feel lost, as they begin to measure the hollowness of their arrogance, the futility of their prestige, the childish incoherence of their pathetic pretexts.

Capricious children always complain when they do not get a prominent place in the games, or when others do not act as they themselves say.

The Baptist was an eminent herald, called to the realization of God's plan [known because of his peculiar figure, perhaps more prone to renunciation].

But the preconception of mortification did not fit: therefore, a nuisance to be rejected.

The ‘Son of man’ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; he did not make an issue of purity [so he too was an exaggerator]: to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged the equal of a demoniac; the young Rabbi who invited joy, a laxer.

For the gravediggers of the holy city, John was too demanding, Jesus too broad in ideas and behaviour.

Spoilt kids do not even agree in the game, and stubbornly stand their ground.

The incontentatible children reject every proposal: they always have to retort.

The austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

The Lord, on the other hand, lived among people, accepted invitations and did not try to appear different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible [for one sent by God].

«Yet Wisdom has been justified by all sons» (v.35 Greek text); i.e. the little ones read the sign of the times.

The 'sons' recognise divine Wisdom, they see his plan.

They grasp the plan of Salvation in the preaching of the Baptist and the Christ.

They do not have too much ‘control’ over things; they are spontaneous friends with them.

They are aware of limitations and strengths; they even learn from subordinate positions, and from dark sides; they learn from fears.

They overcome the spiritual immobility of the great experts, critical of every breeze of change, or too abstract and sophisticated.

Both of which settle themselves and rule - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

They are like puerile and uncontactable figures, who neither get up nor move: «sitting» (v.32).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the ‘chosen ones’ remain indifferent or annoyed, because they are, grasp and understand “one thing only”.

They never close their ‘character’ to open another, or to explore different sides of themselves and the world. Their souls are starched.

Instead, he who does not have a closed heart is anticipating the Coming of a new Kingdom, is grasping his own eternal face.

[Wednesday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 16, 2026]

One 'character', or the Son of Man

(Lk 7:31-35)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realise the enormous difference between any belief and Faith.

They emancipate us by overturning positions: those who used to feel defended and secure now look like little dolls who understand nothing of God's action in us.

On the other hand, the 'great' reformers with no history and no backbone elaborate extraordinary disembodied projections, and wallow in them.

While they seek the joy of life, they always put themselves at a safe distance from any crude involvement - which (with Pope Francis) we might call 'artisanal'.

As the providence of new arrangements makes its way, those who are tied to stagnant or overly imaginative forms stubbornly try to cling to them.

Both positions seem to be made to neither bear fruit nor grow together. They stem the authenticities, which here and there flourish and spread.

The leaders of the people and the veterans feel lost, as they begin to measure the hollowness of their arrogance, the futility of their prestige, the childish incoherence of their pathetic pretexts.

In the epigraph to his commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'The eternal Name wants to be like the infant that has not yet spoken, like the chick that has not yet hatched.

Whimsical children, on the other hand, always complain when they do not get a prominent place in the games, or when others do not do as they are told.

The Baptist was an eminent herald, called to the realisation of God's plan [known because of his peculiar figure, perhaps more prone to renunciation].

But the preconception of mortification did not fit: therefore, a nuisance to be rejected.

Christ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; he made no bones about purity [so he too must have been an exaggerator]: to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged the equal of a demoniac; the young Rabbi who invited joy, a laxer.

For the gravediggers of the holy city, John was too demanding; Jesus seemed overly broad in ideas and behaviour.

Spoilt children do not even agree in play, and stubbornly stand firm on their positions.

The incontentatible children reject every proposal: they always have something to say.

But Revelation itself goes beyond all expectation [cf. Tertio Millennio Adveniente, n.6].

Certainly, the austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

Instead, the Lord lived among people, accepted invitations and did not try to appear different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible for one sent by God.

"Yet Wisdom has been justified by all her children" (v.35 Greek text) i.e. the little ones read the sign of the times.

The children recognise divine Wisdom, they see her plan.

They grasp the plan of Salvation in the preaching of the Baptist and Christ.

They do not have too much "control" over things; they are friends of them.

They are aware of limitations and strengths; they learn even from subordinate positions and dark sides; they learn from fears.

They overcome the spiritual immobility of the great experts, critical of every breeze of change, or too abstract and sophisticated.

Both of which settle and rule - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

They are like puerile and uncontactable figures who neither stand up nor move: 'sitting' (v.32).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the 'chosen ones' remain indifferent or annoyed, because they are, they grasp and understand 'one thing'.

They never close their 'character' to open another, or to explore different sides of themselves and the world.

In a homily at St Martha's [on the rejection of the prophet Jonah] Pope Francis suggested to "look at how the Lord acts", as opposed to the "sick of rigidity" who have "starched souls".

The stubborn childish ones only know how to disturb frank women and men, who spontaneously express themselves in multifaceted ways because they do not have a 'small, closed heart', but 'know how to enlarge it'.

It is precisely the bold ones who are themselves completely - unpolished and glamorous - instead of reiterating hysterical platitudes and sentences, who caress their different brothers and sisters and expand life.

In doing so, they are grasping their own eternal face.

Authentic women and men of Faith anticipate the Coming of a new Kingdom.

To internalise and live the message:

Who has helped you and who has held you back in understanding your deepest desire? Simples, or well-connected scholars?

Friends who shake and care, or qualified leaders and specialists who don't even get along in their 'games' - stubborn people, who set up, lord it over, restrain, jam others?

Son of Man

"Son of man" (v.34) already designates from the OT the character of a holiness that surpasses the ancient fiction of the rulers, who piled on top of each other reciting the same script.

The masses remained dry-mouthed: whatever ruler seized power, the petty crowd remained subdued and suffocated.

The same rule was in force in religions, whose leaders lavished the people with a strong horde impulse and the contentment of the gregarious.

In contrast, in the Kingdom of Jesus there must be a lack of ranks - which is why his proposal does not match the ambitions of the religious authorities, and the Apostles' own expectations.

They too wanted to 'count'. But precisely 'Son of Man' is the person according to a criterion of humanisation, not a beast that prevails because it is stronger than the others [cf. Dan 7].

Every man with a heart of flesh - not of beast, nor of stone - is an understanding person, capable of listening, always attentive to the needs of the other, who makes himself available.

It alludes to the broad dimension of holiness; transmissible to anyone, but creative like love, therefore all to be discovered! But this is a problem, especially (it seems absurd) in devout circles.

In the Gospels, the 'Son of Man' - the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity - is not hindered by the habitués of the sacred precincts, but by the habitués of the holy precincts.

The growth and humanisation of the people is not thwarted by sinners, but by those who would have the ministry of making the Face of God known to all!

In Mk 9:36-37 (cf. Mt 18:2-5; Lk 9:47-48) Jesus embraces an 8-12 year old boy who at that time counted for nothing - in fact, a house valet, a shop assistant ["paidìon"].

It is the only identification that Jesus loves and wishes to give us: that with the one who cannot afford not to recognise the needs of others.

It is a dimension of holiness without distinctive haloes: shareable, because it is linked to empathy, to spontaneous friendship towards all - women and men of all times.

Obviously: this is not a proposal compromised with doctrinaire-and-discipline religion that drives back eccentricities: much more sympathetic and lovable.

That of the Son of Man is the kind of holiness that makes us unique, not always abhorring and exorcising the danger of the unusual.

Aristotle stated that - beyond artificial petitions of principle or apparent proclamations - one only really loves oneself. Are we then like wayward children? This is no small question.

Granted and ungranted, the growth, promotion and blossoming of our qualities lies within a wise Way, a path that knows how to allow itself to encounter new states of being.

Genuine and mature love expands the boundaries of the ego lover of primacy, visibility and gain, understanding the You in the I.

Itinerary and Vector that then expands capacities and life. Otherwise in all circumstances and unfortunately at any age we will remain in the puerile game of those who scramble on the steps, to prevail.

As Pope Francis said about the mafia phenomena: "There is a need for men and women of Love, not honour!"

We read in the Tao Tê Ching (XL): 'Weakness is what the Tao uses'. And Master Wang Pi comments: 'The high has for its foundation the low, the noble has for its foundation the vile'.

Without alienating efforts, the personal flows into the plural and global, spontaneously overcoming fragmentation and dispersion:

"This universalistic perspective emerges, among other things, from the presentation that Jesus made of himself not only as 'Son of David', but as 'son of man'. The title of "Son of Man", in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), recalls the person who comes "with the clouds of heaven" (v. 13) and is an image that heralds an entirely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to Himself to manifest the true character of His messianism, as a mission destined for the whole man and every man, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters into this new kingdom, which the Church announces and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion".

[Pope Benedict, Consistory 24 November 2012].

More on the Son of Man (Pope John Paul II):

1. Jesus Christ, Son of Man and of God: this is the culminating theme of our catechesis on the identity of the Messiah. It is the fundamental truth of Christian revelation and faith: the humanity and divinity of Christ, which we will have to reflect on more fully later. For now, we would like to complete our analysis of the messianic titles already present in some way in the Old Testament and see in what sense Jesus attributes them to himself.

As for the title "Son of Man", it is significant that Jesus used it frequently when speaking of himself, while it is the others who call him "Son of God", as we shall see in the next catechesis. Instead, he called himself "Son of Man", whereas no one else called him that, except the deacon Stephen before the stoning (Acts 7:56) and the author of the Apocalypse in two texts (Acts 1:13; 14:14).

2. The title "Son of Man" comes from the Old Testament from the Book of the Prophet Daniel. Here is the text describing a night vision of the prophet: "Looking again in the night visions, behold, there appeared in the clouds of heaven one like a son of man; he came and was presented to him, who gave him power and glory and a kingdom; all peoples, nations and languages served him; his power is an everlasting power, which never fades, and his kingdom is such that it will never be destroyed" (Dan 7:13-14).

And when the prophet asks for an explanation of this vision, he receives the following answer: "The saints of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess it for ever and ever . . . then the kingdom and the power and the greatness of all the kingdoms that are under heaven shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High" (Dan 7:18, 27). The text of Daniel is about an individual person and the people. We note immediately that what refers to the person of the Son of Man is found in the words of the angel in the annunciation to Mary: "he will reign forever . . . and his kingdom will have no end" (Lk 1:33).

3. When Jesus calls himself 'Son of Man' he uses an expression from the canonical tradition of the Old Testament and also found in the Jewish apocrypha. It should be noted, however, that the expression "Son of Man" (ben-adam) had become in the Aramaic of Jesus' time an expression simply indicating "man" ("bar-enas"). Jesus, therefore, by calling himself "son of man", almost succeeded in hiding behind the veil of common meaning the messianic significance the word had in prophetic teaching. It is no coincidence, however, that if utterances about the "Son of Man" appear especially in the context of Christ's earthly life and passion, there is also no lack of them in reference to his eschatological elevation.

4. In the context of the earthly life of Jesus of Nazareth, we find texts such as: "The foxes have their dens and the birds of the air their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Matthew 8: 20); or also: "The Son of Man has come, who eats and drinks, and they say, Behold, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners" (Matthew 11: 19). At other times the word of Jesus takes on a value more strongly indicative of his power. Thus when he says: "The Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath" (Mk 2:28). On the occasion of the healing of the paralytic lowered through an opening in the roof he states in an almost defiant tone: 'Now, so that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins, I command you,' he said to the paralytic, 'get up, take up your bed and go home' (Mk 2:10-11). Elsewhere Jesus declares: "For as Jonah was a sign to those in Nineveh, so also will the Son of Man be to this generation" (Lk 11:30). On another occasion it is a vision shrouded in mystery: "A time will come when you will long to see even one of the days of the Son of Man, but you will not see him" (Lk 17:22).

5. Some theologians note an interesting parallelism between the prophecy of Ezekiel and the utterances of Jesus. The prophet writes: "(God) said to me: 'Son of man, I am sending you to the Israelites . . . who have turned against me . . Thou shalt say to them, 'Says the Lord God'" (Ez 2:3-4). "Son of man, you dwell among a race of rebels, who have eyes to see and do not see, have ears to hear and do not hear . . ." (Ez 12:2) "You, son of man . . . keep your eyes fixed on it (Jerusalem) which will be besieged . . . and you will prophesy against it" (Ez 4:1-7). "Son of man, prophesy a riddle telling a parable to the Israelites" (Ez 17:2).

Echoing the words of the prophet, Jesus teaches: "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost" (Lk 19:10). "For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:45; cf. also Mt 20:28). The "Son of Man" . . . "when he comes in the glory of the Father", will be ashamed of those who were ashamed of him and his words before men (cf. Mk 8:38).

6. The identity of the Son of Man appears in the dual aspect of representative of God, herald of the kingdom of God, prophet calling to conversion. On the other hand, he is the "representative" of men, whose earthly condition and sufferings he shares in order to redeem and save them according to the Father's plan. As he himself says in his conversation with Nicodemus: "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up that whoever believes in him may have eternal life" (Jn 3:14-15).

It is a clear proclamation of the passion, which Jesus repeats: "And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly, and be reproved by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and then be killed, and after three days rise again" (Mk 8:31). Three times in Mark's Gospel (cf. Mk 9:31; 10:33-34) and in each of them Jesus speaks of himself as the "Son of Man".

7. By the same appellation Jesus defines himself before the tribunal of Caiaphas, when to the question: "Are you the Christ, the blessed Son of God?" he replies: "I am! And you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming with the clouds of heaven" (Mk 14:62). In these few words echoes Daniel's prophecy about the "Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven" (Dan 7:13) and Psalm 110 that sees the Lord seated at the right hand of God (cf. Ps 110:1).

8. Repeatedly Jesus speaks of the elevation of the "Son of Man", but he does not hide from his listeners that it includes the humiliation of the cross. To the objections and incredulity of the people and disciples, who well understood the magic of his allusions and yet asked him: "How then do you say that the Son of Man must be elevated? Who is this Son of Man?" (Jn 12:34), Jesus asserts: "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am and do nothing of myself, but as the Father has taught me" (Jn 8:28). Jesus states that his "elevation" by the cross will constitute his glorification. Shortly afterwards he will add: "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (John 12: 23). It is significant that at Judas' departure from the Upper Room, Jesus says "now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God also has been glorified in him" (Jn 13:31).

9. This constitutes the content of life, passion, death and glory of which the prophet Daniel had offered a pale sketch. Jesus does not hesitate to also apply to himself the character of an eternal and everlasting kingdom that Daniel had assigned to the work of the Son of Man, when he proclaims to the world: "Then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory" (Mk 13:26; cf. Mt 24:30). It is in this eschatological perspective that the Church's work of evangelisation must take place. He warns: "You will not have finished going through the city of Israel before the Son of Man comes" (Mt 10:23). And he asks: "But will the Son of Man, when he comes, find faith on earth?" (Lk 18:8).

10. If as the "Son of Man" Jesus realised by his life, passion, death and resurrection the messianic plan outlined in the Old Testament, at the same time he assumes by that same name his place among men as a true man, as the son of a woman, Mary of Nazareth. Through this woman, his Mother, he, the 'Son of God', is at the same time the 'Son of man', a true man, as the Letter to the Hebrews attests: 'He became truly one of us, in all things like us except sin' (Heb 4:5; cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 29 April 1987]

“The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost”.

God excludes no one, neither the poor nor the rich. God does not let himself be conditioned by our human prejudices, but sees in everyone a soul to save and is especially attracted to those who are judged as lost and who think themselves so. Jesus Christ, the Incarnation of God, has demonstrated this immense mercy, which takes nothing away from the gravity of sin, but aims always at saving the sinner, at offering him the possibility of redemption, of starting again from the beginning, of converting [...]

Let us pray to the Virgin Mary, perfect model of communion with Jesus, to be renewed by his love, so that we too may experience the joy of being visited by the Son of God, of being renewed by his love and of transmitting his mercy to others.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 31 October 2010]