Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

Today too, the Apostle Peter, like last Sunday, appears in the foreground of the Gospel. However, whereas last Sunday we admired him for his forthright faith in Jesus, whom he proclaimed the Messiah and Son of God, this time, in the episode that immediately follows, he shows a faith that is still immature and too closely bound to the mentality of "this world" (cf. Rm 12: 2). Indeed, when Jesus begins to speak openly of the fate that awaits him in Jerusalem, in other words that he will have to suffer many things and be killed in order subsequently to be raised, Peter protests saying: "God forbid, Lord! This shall never happen to you" (Mt 16: 22). It is obvious that the Teacher and the disciple follow two opposite ways of thinking. Peter, in accordance with a human logic, is convinced that God would never permit his Son to end his mission by dying on the Cross. Jesus, on the contrary, knows that in his immense love for mankind the Father sent him to give his life for them and that if this should involve the Passion and the Cross, it is right that it should happen in this manner. Moreover he knows that the last word will be the Resurrection. Although Peter's protest was spoken in good faith and for sincere love of the Master, to Jesus it sounds like a temptation, an invitation to save himself, whereas it is only by losing his life that he will receive new and eternal life for us all. 

If, to save us, the Son of God had to suffer and die on the Cross, it was certainly not by a cruel design of the heavenly Father. The reason is the gravity of the illness from which he came to heal us: it was such a serious, mortal disease that it required all his Blood. Indeed, it was with his death and Resurrection that Jesus defeated sin and death and re-established God's lordship. Yet the battle is not over. Evil exists and resists in every generation, as we know, in our day too. What are the horrors of war, violence to the innocent, the wretchedness and injustice unleashed against the weak other than the opposition of evil to the Kingdom of God? And how is it possible to respond to so much wickedness except with the unarmed and disarming power of love that conquers hatred and of life that has no fear of death? It is the same mysterious power that Jesus used, at the cost of being misunderstood and abandoned by many of his own. 

Dear brothers and sisters, in order to bring the work of salvation fully to completion, the Redeemer continues to associate to himself and his mission men and women who are prepared to take up their cross and follow him. Consequently, just as for Christ carrying the cross was not an option but a mission to be embraced for love, so it is for Christians too. In our world today, where the forces that divide and destroy seem to dominate, Christ does not cease to offer to all his clear invitation: anyone who wants to be my disciple must renounce his own selfishness and carry the cross with me. Let us invoke the help of the Blessed Virgin who followed Jesus first and to the very end on the way of the Cross. May she help us to walk in the Lord's footsteps with determination, to experience from this moment, even in trial, the glory of the Resurrection.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus, 31 August 2008]

1. In Jesus’ messianic mission there is a culminating and central point, towards which we have gradually been drawing in the previous catechesis: Christ was sent by God into the world to bring about the redemption of humankind through the sacrifice of his own life. This sacrifice was to take the form of ‘emptying’ himself in obedience even unto death on the cross: a death which, in the eyes of his contemporaries, bore a particular mark of ignominy.

Throughout his preaching and in all his conduct, Jesus is guided by a profound awareness of God’s plans for his life and death within the economy of the messianic mission, with the certainty that these plans spring from the Father’s eternal love for the world and, in particular, for humankind.

2. If we consider the years of his adolescence, the words of the twelve-year-old Jesus, addressed to Mary and Joseph at the time of his ‘rediscovery’ in the Temple in Jerusalem, give much food for thought: ‘Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?’ (Luke 2:49). What was on his mind and in his heart? We can deduce this from many other expressions of his thoughts throughout his public life. From the very beginning of his messianic ministry, Jesus insisted on instilling in his disciples the concept that ‘the Son of Man . . . must suffer greatly’ (Luke 9:22), that is, that he must be ‘rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, and then put to death (and, after three days, rise again)’ (Mark 8:31). But all this does not stem solely from human beings, from their hostility towards his person and his teaching; rather, it constitutes the fulfilment of God’s eternal plans, as foretold in the Scriptures containing divine revelation: “How is it written concerning the Son of Man? That he must suffer greatly and be despised” (Mk 9:12).

3. When Peter tries to deny this possibility (‘… this will never happen to you’) (Mt 16:22), Jesus rebukes him with particularly harsh words: ‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of men’ (Mk 8:33). The eloquence of these words is striking; through them, Jesus seeks to make Peter understand that to oppose the way of the cross is to reject the very plans of God himself. ‘Satan’ is precisely the one who, ‘from the very beginning’, has been in opposition to ‘what is of God’.

4. Jesus is therefore aware both of humanity’s responsibility for his death on the cross—which he will face as a result of a sentence handed down by earthly courts—and of the fact that through this human sentence the eternal divine plan will be fulfilled: that ‘which is of God’, that is, the sacrifice offered on the cross for the redemption of the world. And even though Jesus (like God himself) does not will the evil of the ‘deicide’ committed by men, he nevertheless accepts this evil in order to bring about the good of the world’s salvation.

5. After the Resurrection, whilst walking unrecognised with two of his disciples towards Emmaus, he explains the ‘Scriptures’ of the Old Testament to them in these terms: ‘Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?’ (Lk 24:26). And on the occasion of his final meeting with the apostles, he declared: ‘These are the words I spoke to you whilst I was still with you: everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled’ (Luke 24:44).

6. In the light of the events of Easter, the apostles came to understand what Jesus had told them beforehand. Peter, who—out of love for the Master, but also through a lack of understanding—seemed to oppose his cruel fate in particular, would say to his listeners in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost, speaking of Christ: “This man . . . who, according to God’s predetermined plan and foreknowledge, was handed over to you; you, by the hands of lawless men, nailed him to the cross and put him to death . . .” (Acts 2:22–23). And he will add once more: “God has thus fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, namely that his Christ would die” (Acts 3:18).

7. The passion and death of Christ were foretold in the Old Testament not as the end of his mission, but as the indispensable ‘passage’ required for him to be exalted by God. This is made clear to us in particular by the song of Isaiah, which speaks of the Servant of the Lord as the ‘Man of Sorrows’: ‘Behold, my servant shall prosper; he shall be exalted and lifted up, and greatly exalted’ (Isaiah 52:13). And Jesus himself, when he foretells that ‘the Son of Man . . . will be killed’, also adds that ‘after three days he will rise again’ (cf. Mk 8:31).

8. We are therefore faced with a divine plan which, even though it appears so evident when considered in the light of the events described in the Gospels, remains nonetheless a mystery that cannot be fully explained by human reason. In this spirit, the Apostle Paul expresses himself with that magnificent paradox: ‘For what is foolishness to God is wiser than human wisdom, and what is weakness to God is stronger than human strength’ (1 Cor 1:25). These words of Paul concerning the cross of Christ are irreplaceable. But it is also true that whilst it is difficult for human beings to find a rationally satisfactory answer to the question ‘why the cross of Christ?’, the answer to this question comes to us once again from the Word of God.

9. Jesus himself formulates this answer: ‘For 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’ (John 3:16). When Jesus spoke these words during his night-time conversation with Nicodemus, his interlocutor probably could not yet have imagined that the phrase ‘gave his Son’ meant ‘gave him up to death on the cross’. But John, who recounts this in his Gospel, understood its meaning perfectly well. The unfolding of events had shown that this was precisely the meaning of the answer to Nicodemus: God ‘gave’ his only Son for the salvation of the world, giving him up to death on the cross for the sins of the world, giving him out of love: ‘God . . . so loved the world’, creation, mankind! Love remains the definitive explanation of redemption through the cross. It is the only answer to the question ‘why?’ concerning Christ’s death as part of God’s eternal plan.

The author of the Fourth Gospel, in which we find the text of Christ’s reply to Nicodemus, will return to the same concept again in one of his letters: ‘This is what love consists in: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice of atonement for our sins’ (1 John 4:10).

10. This is a love that transcends justice itself. Justice may concern and apply to the one who has committed a wrong. If it is an innocent person who suffers, then there is no question of justice. If an innocent person who is holy, like Christ, freely offers himself up to suffering and death on the cross, in order to fulfil the Father’s eternal plan, this means that God, in the sacrifice of his Son, goes, in a certain sense, beyond the order of justice to reveal himself in this Son and through him in all the richness of his mercy — Rich in Mercy (Eph 2:4) — almost as if to introduce, together with this crucified and risen Son, his mercy, his merciful love, into the history of the relationship between humankind and God.

It is precisely through this merciful love that humankind is called to overcome evil and sin within themselves and in relation to others: ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’ (Mt 5:7). ‘God demonstrates his love for us in that, whilst we were still sinners, Christ died for us’, as Saint Paul would write (Rom 5:8) .

11. The Apostle returns to this theme at various points in his letters, in which the triad of ‘redemption – justice – love’ frequently recurs.

‘All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, but they are justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus . . . through his blood . . .’ (Rom 3:23–25). In this way, God shows that he is not content merely with the rigour of justice—which punishes evil when it sees it—but that he has chosen to triumph over sin in another way, namely by offering the possibility of deliverance from it. God has chosen to reveal his righteousness in a positive way by giving sinners the opportunity to become righteous through their faith in Christ the Redeemer. Thus God ‘is just and justifies’ (Rom 3:26). This takes place in a profoundly astonishing way, for ‘God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God’ (2 Cor 5:21).

12. He who ‘knew no sin’ – the Son consubstantial with the Father – took upon himself the terrible yoke of the sin of all humanity, in order to secure our justification and sanctification. Here is God’s love revealed in the Son. Through the Son, the love of the Father was revealed: “who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all” (Rom 8:32). To grasp the full significance of these words—“did not spare”—it may be helpful to recall the sacrifice of Abraham, who had shown himself ready to “not spare his beloved son” (Gen 22:16) ; God, however, had spared him (Gen 22:12). His own only-begotten Son, on the other hand, God “did not spare, but handed him over” to death for our salvation.

13. From this springs the Apostle’s certainty that no one and nothing—“neither death, nor life, nor angels . . . nor any other creature—will ever be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:38–39). Together with Paul, the whole Church is certain of this love of God “which surpasses all things”, the final word of God’s self-revelation in the history of humankind and the world, the supreme self-communication which takes place through the cross, at the heart of the Paschal Mystery of Jesus Christ.

[John Paul II, General Audience, 7 September 1988]

Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Mt 16:21-27) is linked to that of last Sunday (cf. Mt 16:13-20). After Peter, on behalf of the other disciples as well, has professed his faith in Jesus as Messiah and Son of God, Jesus himself begins to speak to them about his Passion. Along the path to Jerusalem, he openly explains to his friends what awaits him at the end in the Holy City: he foretells the mystery of his death and Resurrection, of his humiliation and glory. He says that he will have to “suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Mt 16:21). But his words are not understood, because the disciples have a faith that is still immature and too closely tied to the mentality of this world (cf. Rom 12:2). They think of too earthly a victory, and therefore they do not understand the language of the cross.

At the prospect that Jesus may fail and die on the cross, Peter himself rebels and says to Him: “God forbid, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (v. 22). He believes in Jesus — Peter is like this — he has faith, he believes in Jesus; he believes; he wants to follow him, but does not accept that his glory will pass through the Passion. For Peter and the other disciples — but for us too! — the cross is an uncomfortable thing, the cross is a “hindrance”, whereas Jesus considers the “hindrance” escaping the cross, which would mean avoiding the Father’s will, the mission that the Father has entrusted to him for our salvation. For this reason Jesus responds to Peter: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me; for you are not on the side of God, but of men” (v. 23). Ten minutes earlier, Jesus had praised Peter. He had promised him he would be the base of his Church, its foundation; ten minutes later he says to him, “Satan”. How can this be understood? It happens to us all! In moments of devotion, of fervour, of good will, of closeness to our neighbour, we look to Jesus and we go forward; but in moments in which we approach the cross, we flee. The devil, Satan — as Jesus says to Peter — tempts us. It is typical of the evil spirit, it is typical of the devil to make us stray from the cross, from the cross of Jesus.

Addressing everyone then, Jesus adds: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (v. 24). In this way he indicates the way of the true disciple, showing two attitudes. The first is “to renounce oneself”, which does not mean a superficial change, but a conversion, a reversal of mentality and of values. The other attitude is that of taking up one’s own cross. It is not just a matter of patiently enduring daily tribulations, but of bearing with faith and responsibility that part of toil, and that part of suffering that the struggle against evil entails. The life of Christians is always a struggle. The Bible says that the life of Christians is a military undertaking: fighting against the evil spirit, fighting against Evil.

Thus the task of “taking up the cross” becomes participating with Christ in the salvation of the world. Considering this, let us make sure that the cross hanging on the wall at home, or that little one that we wear around our neck, is a sign of our wish to be united with Christ in lovingly serving our brothers and sisters, especially the littlest and most fragile. The cross is the holy sign of God’s Love, it is a sign of Jesus’ Sacrifice, and is not to be reduced to a superstitious object or an ornamental necklace. Each time we fix our gaze on the image of Christ crucified, let us contemplate that he, as the true Servant of the Lord, has accomplished his mission, giving life, spilling his blood for the pardoning of sins. And let us not allow ourselves to be drawn to the other side by the temptation of the Evil One. Therefore, if we want to be his disciples, we are called to imitate him, expending our life unreservedly out of love of God and neighbour.

May the Virgin Mary, united to her Son unto Calvary, help us not to retreat in the face of the trials and suffering that witnessing to the Gospel entails.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 30 August 2020]

(Mk 6:17-29)

The question «Jesus, Who is he?» grows throughout the Gospel according to Mk, up to the answer of the centurion under the Cross (15:39).

The assessment of the opinions of the people (vv.14-16) suggests that even around the first assemblies of believers someone tried to understand Christ starting from what was already known.

Not a few wished to understand his Person on the basis of criteria drawn from the Scriptures or from the Oral Tradition of the Chosen People; from ancient beliefs and suggestions - even superstitious (as in the case of Herod).

But the Herald of God was not a purifier of the Temple, nor was He a simple healer of dated religiosity, of domesticated cultural ideas. Not even one of the many "reformers"... all in all conformists.

He overturns the hopes of the people, thus disturbing any school of thought; in particular, those who hold the exclusivity.

When feel a danger, those who are shrouded in luster and power become brazen and willing to do any violence, even for a false point of honor.

Tyrants always scoff at the isolated, uncomfortable and defenseless.

But leaders and powerful are also cowards: they do not intend to lose face in front of the allies of their immoderate and uncontrolled environment, cloaked in exemptions.

Josephus [Flavius] reports that John was in prison for fear of a popular uprising - evaluating that it was good for him to act early.

The assassination plot was occasional.

The brave one who denounces abuses is cut off, but the Voice of his martyrdom is no longer silent.

For this reason the episode does not lead Jesus to greater prudence.  Once an Envoy is killed, another greater and more incisive takes over: the last of the Prophets, the Son of God.

It seemed absurd that someone in that society dared to break the conspiratorial wall that guaranteed the troublemakers to consider themselves untouchable.

Faced with the unceremonious blackmail of the privileged who had control of every social and cultural class, it seemed impossible to start a new path, or to say and do anything that was not aligned.

John and Jesus challenge the status quo and attract upon themselves the vengeance of those who try to perpetuate the prerogatives of the ancient hierarchical cosmos, and the anger of those who are exposed in their hypocrisy.

This is the real difficulty encountered in the proclamation of the new Kingdom in the world. His contemptuous refusal and every attempted murder will be a litmus test of our noble critical frankness, the ‘revelation’ of which will run parallel the Two.

The Master stood up in defense of conscience and of the divine law itself, against the opportunist authorities, which he challenged openly.

Even today he asks for courage not to surrender in the face of corruption, evil, the current mentality; to be different in the way of thinking, speaking, choosing and acting.

Not listened to, derided, opposed by many courtiers, the children of God bear witness to the Truth, paying in person: perfect Joy.

Authentic Fullness.

To internalize and live the message:

Who is Jesus according to you and the others?

[Martyrdom of St. John the Baptist, August 29]

(Mk 6:17-29)

The question "Jesus, Who is He?" grows throughout the Gospel of Mark, up to the centurion's answer under the Cross (Mk 15:39).

The balance of people's opinions (Mt 14:1-2; Mk 6:14-16; Lk 9:7-9) suggests that even around the first assemblies of believers there was an attempt to understand Christ from what was already known [from the criteria of Scripture and tradition, from ancient - even superstitious - beliefs and suggestions].

But the man of God is not simply a purifier of the Temple, nor a patchworker of conformist religiosity. He overturns popular, emotional or standard hopes.

In this way, each Prophet disquiets all those who hold the exclusive.

When he senses danger, those cloaked in lustre and power become brazen and willing to any violence, even for a false point of honour.

Tyrants always make a mockery of the isolated, inconvenient and defenceless, but leaders and potentates are also cowards: they do not intend to lose face in front of the allies of their inordinate and unchecked environment, cloaked in exemptions.

During more than 40 years of his reign, Herod Antipas had created a class of officials and a system of privileged people who had the government, the treasury, the economy, justice, every aspect of civil and police life in their hands, and his command covered the territory capillarly.

In every village, the ruler could count on the support of all the cliques and various local leaders, interested in controlling the consciences - along with compromised scribes and Pharisees, linked to his politics.

Apart from being a puppet of Rome - to which he guaranteed control of the territory and the flow of taxes - Herod was depraved and superstitious: he thought that even a light oath to a dancer should be kept.

Josephus Flavius, on the other hand, reports that John was in prison due to the ruler's fear of a popular uprising - and was considering that it was good for him to act in advance. The assassination plot was probably casual.

The courageous person who denounces abuse is crushed, but the voice of his martyrdom will never be silenced again.

This is why the episode does not induce Jesus to greater caution. Once a prophet is killed, another greater and more incisive one takes his place: the last of the Prophets, the Son of God.

Delinquents should not delude themselves that Providence does not know how to equip even the higher (and more wimpy) echelons with the counterpart of consistent and good people.

Both John and the Lord never visited the new Herodian capital, Tiberias, the city of courtly palaces, built - after Sefforis, where Jesus also worked - in diplomatic homage to the Roman emperor.

Generic and confusing religiosity can adapt to any season and be adopted even by those who think that other people's lives are worth nothing, but a Prophet does not stop at the whim of the corrupt system.

In the Palestinian villages, people's lives were harassed with taxes and abuses by landowners [who did not even reside there]; controlled by the perfect marriage of interests between civil and religious powers - who cunningly attempted to impose their way of life and impart established (useless) knowledge to the crowds.

The leaders of the popular, orthodox and compliant faith - as is often the case - were on the leash of the authorities on the ground, who considered themselves definitive and found strength in the coalition.

It seemed absurd that anyone in that society would dare to break the wall of silence that ensured that troublemakers, 'spiritual' authorities and even low-level bullies could consider themselves untouchable.

Faced with the [unceremonious] blackmail of the privileged who were in control of every social and cultural stratum, it seemed impossible to start a new path, or to say and do anything unaligned.

John and Jesus challenge the status quo and attract the vengeance of those who seek to perpetuate the prerogatives of the ancient hierarchical cosmos, and the anger of those who are exposed in their hypocrisies.

This is the real difficulty that the proclamation of the new kingdom encounters in the world. Its scornful rejection and every assassination attempt will be a litmus test of the critical prophecy, whose revelation will run parallel to the Two.

The Baptiser was an intrepid denouncer of vice, superficiality, malpractice, and the perversions of the powerful.

Pope Francis would have spoken of good manners (in the pursuit of ropey alliances) and bad habits - in the irresponsible and insulting private life, and in the violence with which dominion over the little ones is perpetuated.

Jesus, too, put his foot down, instead of making an internal career. In spite of John's foreboding, he rejected the path of weighed-up guile, pretense, diplomacy and pirouettes of circumstance.The Master stood in defence of conscience and divine law itself, against opportunistic religious and political authorities, whom he challenged head-on.

The Lord asks for the courage not to bend in the face of corruption, evil, the current mentality; to be different in the way of thinking, speaking (mellifluous), choosing and acting.

Unheard, laughed at, opposed by lords, luminaries and courtiers, the children of God bear witness to the Truth, paying their own way: perfect Gladness.

Authentic Fullness.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you know victims of authoritarianism, corruption, domination of the powerful, excess and extravagance of power? Even in the Church?

How is it that this still happens (and everything is silenced sooner or later)?

Who is Jesus according to you and others? And what would you say?

Dear brothers and sisters,

[...] the liturgical Memorial of the martyrdom of St John the Baptist, the Precursor of Jesus. In the Roman Calendar, he is the only saint whose birth and death, through martyrdom, are celebrated on the same day (in his case, 24 June). Today’s Memorial commemoration dates back to the dedication of a crypt in Sebaste, Samaria, where his head had already been venerated since the middle of the fourth century. The devotion later extended to Jerusalem, both in the Churches of the East and in Rome, with the title of the Beheading of St John the Baptist. In the Roman Martyrology reference is made to a second discovery of the precious relic, translated for the occasion to the Church of San Silvestro in Campo Marzio, Rome.

These small historical references help us to understand how ancient and deeply-rooted is the veneration of John the Baptist. His role in relation to Jesus stands out clearly in the Gospels. St Luke in particular recounts his birth, his life in the wilderness and his preaching, while in today’s Gospel St Mark tells us of his dramatic death. John the Baptist began his preaching under the Emperor Tiberius in about 27-28 A.D., and the unambiguous invitation he addressed to the people, who flocked to listen to him, was to prepare the way to welcome the Lord, to straighten the crooked paths of their lives through a radical conversion of heart (cf. Lk 3:4).

However, John the Baptist did not limit himself to teaching repentance or conversion. Instead, in recognizing Jesus as the “Lamb of God” who came to take away the sin of the world (Jn 1:29), he had the profound humility to hold up Jesus as the One sent by God, drawing back so that he might take the lead, and be heard and followed. As his last act the Baptist witnessed with his blood to faithfulness to God’s commandments, without giving in or withdrawing, carrying out his mission to the very end. In the 9th century the Venerable Bede says in one of his Homilies: “St John gave his life for [Christ]. He was not ordered to deny Jesus Christ, but was ordered to keep silent about the truth” (cf. Homily 23: CCL 122, 354). And he did not keep silent about the truth and thus died for Christ who is the Truth. Precisely for love of the truth he did not stoop to compromises and did not fear to address strong words to anyone who had strayed from God’s path.

We see this great figure, this force in the Passion, in resistance to the powerful. We wonder: what gave birth to this life, to this interiority so strong, so upright, so consistent, spent so totally for God in preparing the way for Jesus? The answer is simple: it was born from the relationship with God, from prayer, which was the thread that guided him throughout his existence. John was the divine gift for which his parents Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for so many years (cf. Lk 1:13); a great gift, humanly impossible to hope for, because they were both advanced in years and Elizabeth was barren (cf. Lk 1:7); yet nothing is impossible to God (cf. Lk 1:36). The announcement of this birth happened precisely in the place of prayer, in the temple of Jerusalem, indeed it happened when Zechariah had the great privilege of entering the holiest place in the temple to offer incense to the Lord (cf. Lk 1:8-20). John the Baptist’s birth was also marked by prayer: the Benedictus, the hymn of joy, praise and thanksgiving which Zechariah raises to the Lord and which we recite every morning in Lauds, exalts God’s action in history and prophetically indicates the mission of their son John: to go before the Son of God made flesh to prepare his ways (cf. Lk 1:67-79).

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus was nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period he spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80). The desert regions are places of temptation but also where man acquires a sense of his own poverty because once deprived of material support and security, he understands that the only steadfast reference point is God himself. John the Baptist, however, is not only a man of prayer, in permanent contact with God, but also a guide in this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, recalling the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples, the Our Father, notes that the request was formulated by the disciples in these words: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his own disciples” (cf. Lk 11:1).

Dear brothers and sisters, celebrating the martyrdom of St John the Baptist reminds us too, Christians of this time, that with love for Christ, for his words and for the Truth, we cannot stoop to compromises. The Truth is Truth; there are no compromises. Christian life demands, so to speak, the “martyrdom” of daily fidelity to the Gospel, the courage, that is, to let Christ grow within us and let him be the One who guides our thought and our actions. However, this can happen in our life only if we have a solid relationship with God. Prayer is not time wasted, it does not take away time from our activities, even apostolic activities, but exactly the opposite is true: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant and trusting life of prayer will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to surmount difficulties and to witness courageously to him. St John the Baptist, intercede for us, that we may be ever able to preserve the primacy of God in our life. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012]

1. Today, 29 August, Christian tradition commemorates the martyrdom of St John the Baptist; the Messiah himself says in praise of him: "none born of woman is greater" (cf. Lk 7: 28). He gave to God the supreme witness of his blood, sacrificing his life for truth and justice; indeed, his head was cut off at the orders of Herod, whom he had dared to tell that it was not lawful to take his brother's wife (cf. Mc 6: 17-29).

2. In the Encyclical Veritatis Splendor, recalling the sacrifice of John the Baptist (cf. n. 91), I observed that martyrdom is "an outstanding sign of the holiness of the Church" (n. 93). Indeed, it "represents the high point of the witness to moral truth" (ibid.).

Although relatively few are called to make this supreme sacrifice, it is nonetheless "a consistent witness which all Christians must daily be ready to make, even at the cost of suffering and grave sacrifice" (ibid.). At times, a truly heroic effort is also needed in daily life, in order not to give in to the difficulties that are an incentive to compromise and to live the Gospel "sine glossa".

3. The heroic example of John the Baptist reminds us of the martyrs for the faith who down the centuries followed courageously in his footsteps. I recall in particular the multitude of Christians in the last century who were also victims of religious hatred in various European nations. Today too, in some parts of the world, believers are still subjected to harsh trials for adhering to Christ and his Church.

May these brothers and sisters of ours feel the full solidarity of the entire Ecclesial Community! Let us entrust them to the Blessed Virgin, Queen of Martyrs, whom we call on together at this moment.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 29 August 2004]

A man, John, and a road, which is that of Jesus, indicated by the Baptist, but is also ours, in which we are all called at the moment of trial.

It starts from the figure of John, "the great John: in the words of Jesus "the greatest man born of a woman"" the reflection of Pope Francis in the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Friday 6 February. The Gospel of Mark (6:14-29) recounts the imprisonment and martyrdom of this "man faithful to his mission; the man who suffered many temptations" and who "never, never betrayed his vocation". A man 'faithful' and 'of great authority, respected by all: the great of that time'.

Pope Francis paused to analyse his figure: 'What came out of his mouth was right. His heart was just'. He was so great that "Jesus will also say of him that 'it is Elijah who has returned, to clean the house, to prepare the way'". And John "was conscious that his duty was only to proclaim: to announce the proximity of the Messiah. He was conscious, as St Augustine makes us reflect, that he was the voice only, the Word was another'. Even when "he was tempted to "rob" this truth, he remained just: "I am not, behind me comes, but I am not: I am the servant; I am the servant; I am the one who opens the doors, so that he may come".

At this point the Pontiff introduced the concept of the way, because, he recalled, 'John is the forerunner: forerunner not only of the Lord's entry into public life, but of the Lord's entire life'. The Baptist 'goes forward in the Lord's way; he bears witness to the Lord not only by showing him - "This is it!" - but also by bringing life to the end as the Lord has brought it'. And by ending his life "with martyrdom" he was "a forerunner of the life and death of Jesus Christ".

The Pope went on to reflect on these parallel paths along which "the great" suffers "many trials and becomes small, small, small to the point of contempt". John, like Jesus, "annihilates himself, he knows the road of annihilation. John, with all that authority, thinking about his life, comparing it with that of Jesus, tells people who he is, what his life will be like: 'It is better for him to grow, I instead must diminish'". This, the Pope stressed, is "the life of John: to diminish before Christ, so that Christ may grow". It is "the life of the servant who makes room, makes way for the Lord to come".

John's life "was not easy": in fact, "when Jesus began his public life", he was "close to the Essenes, that is, to the observants of the law, but also of prayers, of penances". Thus, at a certain point, during the time he was in prison, 'he suffered the ordeal of darkness, of the night in his soul'. And that scene, Francis commented, "moved: the great, the greatest sent two disciples to Jesus to ask him: 'But John asks you: is it you or have I made a mistake and must we wait for someone else?'" Along John's path therefore came 'the darkness of error, the darkness of a life burnt in error. And this was a cross for him".

To John's question "Jesus answers with the words of Isaiah": the Baptist "understands, but his heart remains in darkness". Nevertheless he lends himself to the demands of the king, 'who liked to hear him, who liked to lead an adulterous life', and 'almost became a court preacher, of this perplexed king'. But "he humbled himself" because "he thought he was converting this man".

Finally, the Pope said, 'after this purification, after this continuous descent into annihilation, making way for the annihilation of Jesus, his life ends'. That king from being perplexed 'becomes capable of a decision, but not because his heart has been converted'; rather 'because the wine gives him courage'.

And so John ends his life 'under the authority of a mediocre, drunken and corrupt king, at the whim of a dancer and the vengeful hatred of an adulteress'. Thus 'ends the great, the greatest man born of woman', commented Francis, who confessed: 'When I read this passage, I am moved'. And he added a useful consideration for the spiritual life of every Christian: "I think of two things: first, I think of our martyrs, the martyrs of our day, those men, women, children who are persecuted, hated, driven from their homes, tortured, massacred". And this, he stressed, 'is not a thing of the past: this happens today. Our martyrs, who end their lives under the corrupt authority of people who hate Jesus Christ'. Therefore, "it is good for us to think about our martyrs. Today we think of Paul Miki, but that was in the 1600s. Let us think of those of today, of 2015".

The Pontiff went on to add that this passage also prompts him to reflect on himself: 'I too will end. All of us will end. No one's life is 'bought'. We too, willingly or unwillingly, go down the road of the existential annihilation of life'. And this, he said, prompts him "to pray that this annihilation resembles Jesus Christ, his annihilation, as much as possible".

This closes the circle of Francis' meditation: 'John, the great, who continually diminishes to nothingness; the martyrs, who diminish today, in our Church of today, to nothingness; and we, who are on this road and going towards the earth, where we will all end'. In this sense the Pope's final prayer: "May the Lord enlighten us, make us understand this road of John, the forerunner of the road of Jesus; and the road of Jesus, who teaches us how ours should be."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 07.02.2015]

Wise souls, or mad ones

(Mt 25:1-13)

The theme is not that of moral vigilance, but punctual: sooner or later all the baptized in Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment does not seem the best: the groom is late, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go to build houses on the sand: at the first trickle is landslide, and everything collapses.

The enthusiasm was there, the harmony with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... maybe not.

It lacks a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivations and lubricates energy, in the impulse to the mission.

It is the outcome of those who seem to have welcomed the Beatitudes at all points, but do not make them their own...

Not for the fact that they do not fulfill well the role - a task - but because they do not relate the listening to the practice (not distracted, exquisitely evangelical).

Powering the torch is promoting life!

And the Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly; it does not set itself up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlations, personal tracks, attention to events and wisdom to correspond.

Here the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to intervene, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralyzed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at the "no" moments and do not know how to turn them into occasions of awakening, or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline and lack awareness.

Someone has to slow down and recollect himself, rediscover himself and the instinctive vocational lightness, his own infinite part - but avoiding childish strategies.

Others who have already accepted the divine, would need to wake up from numbness, to set in motion the wise and innate light they possess in deep inclinations.

Some need to throw ballasts, become more subtle in hearing and in offering themselves, or less dirigist; others need to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are people who must complicate their stories and then simplify [without dispersing] eventually becoming sharper; others and perhaps more, learning to donate. And so on.

So... better some with light than all in the dark. The actions and risk for wisdom, love and completeness of being build the Person and his dialogue.

One often imagines having provided for own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without elaborating his commitment.

But the person who neither edifies nor communicates life has nothing to do with God himself (v.12).

In this way, even the crisis can have an evolutionary sense; in not feeling absolute, in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus, to Freedom and the Feast.

The paradigm of this high and strong Call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of Mystery that arouses it.

To internalize and live the message:

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding Invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of waiting nothing any longer?

[Friday 21st wk. in O.T.  August 28, 2026]

Distraction in the waiting room, or a crisis with an evolutionary sense

(Mt 25:1-13)

The theme is not one of moral vigilance, but timely: sooner or later all those baptised into Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment doesn't look the best: the groom is delayed, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and the others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go out to build houses on the sand: at the first flood everything collapses.

Enthusiasm is there, attunement with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... perhaps not.

What is missing is a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivation and lubricates energy, in the impulse to mission.

This is the outcome of those who seem to have accepted the Beatitudes in full, but do not make them their own....

Not because they do not fulfil the role well - a task - but because they do not relate listening to the non-distracted, exquisitely evangelical practice.

To feed the torch is to promote life!

But how can we focus on it and not obfuscate it, or rather unblock it, and not allow ourselves to be influenced by the trappings, pull it out of the drawer; orient it well - in local and universal favour, one's own, and that of all?

The Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly. It is not set up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlation, without personal tracks, without attention to events and the ability to correspond.

In short: the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

As in a Love relationship, each one needs moment by moment a new personal balance - enhanced in fusion.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to act, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralysed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at "no" moments and do not know how to transform them into opportunities for awakening; or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline, and lack awareness.

Some must slow down and collect themselves, rediscover themselves and their instinctive vocational lightness, their infinite part - but avoiding puerile strategies.

Others, who have already embraced the divine, would need to wake up from their torpor, to set in motion the wise, innate light they possess in their deepest inclinations.

Some need to shed ballast, to become more subtle in their hearing and presentation, or less dirigiste; others, to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are some who cannot help but complicate their lives, and then simplify [without dispersing], eventually becoming sharper; others, and perhaps more, learn to give. And so on.

So. to harmonise and invigorate the natural, passionate and vocational organism, better some with light than all in the dark - stuck in the waiting room, lost forever.

Jesus does not favour those slumbering in an empty spirituality without uniqueness - that is, those gripped by the instinct of self-protection. He does not seek first his own resources, what he already finds within himself; but what he obtains outside, or is given on demand, begged by others.

The unusual - perhaps undue - and personal listening, as well as the enterprising actions, the risk for wisdom, love, the stimulus to the completeness of being, build the Persona and its true dialogue.

Conformities do not produce breakthroughs; they persist in the torpid outline. 

The indistinct crowd without conviviality of differences - if mediocre, lacking in exploratory peaks, exceptions - pushes every unrepeatable Call to the bench.

Often one imagines one has made one's own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without fully processing the commitment. Perhaps for fear of risk or unforeseen hardship.

Then some zealous mannerists also assume prone attitudes of [formerly called] 'papist' appearance and [fake] orthodoxy - or vice versa, sophisticated, à la page.

Disembodied abstractions, which the Bridegroom is not interested in.

He who does not even work on himself, obviously according to the character of his own vocational inclinations, neither edifies nor communicates life.

He neither enriches nor cheers up even a cursory existence, of the weary times of waiting. Finally, it has nothing to do with God (v.12).

The paradigm of this high and strong call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of the Mystery that arouses it.

It is an appeal out of time for the Church itself, so that it does not settle for schemes, models, standard recipes, or to put things in place in a habitual way.

Nor does it get stuck in sick relationships, in nomenclatures of qualunquist support; resounding or museum-like. And thus find themselves outside the Feast, disoriented, overwhelmed; without even having activated themselves, humanising.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti recalls in no.33 [quoting a homily by Pope Francis in Skopje]:

"We fed ourselves with dreams of splendour and greatness and ended up eating distraction [losing] the taste and flavour of reality".

But even the crisis can have an evolutionary meaning: in accepting to be wrong, in becoming aware of imperfections.

In not feeling absolute; in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus towards Freedom and Celebration.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of not waiting any longer?

In order not to relapse

"The biblical readings of today's liturgy [...] invite us to prolong our reflection on eternal life [...]. On this point there is a clear difference between those who believe and those who do not believe, or, one might equally say, between those who hope and those who do not hope. In fact, St Paul writes to the Thessalonians: "We do not want to leave you in ignorance about those who have died, so that you may not be sad like the others who have no hope" ( 1 Thess 4:13). Faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ also marks a decisive watershed in this area. St Paul again reminds the Christians of Ephesus that, before accepting the Good News, they were "without hope and without God in the world" ( Eph 2:12). In fact, the religion of the Greeks, the pagan cults and myths, were unable to shed light on the mystery of death, so much so that an ancient inscription read: 'In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus', which means: 'Into nothingness from nothingness how soon we fall'. If we remove God, if we remove Christ, the world falls back into emptiness and darkness. And this is also reflected in the expressions of contemporary nihilism, an often unconscious nihilism that unfortunately infects so many young people.

Today's Gospel is a famous parable about ten girls invited to a wedding feast, a symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven, of eternal life (Mt 25:1-13). It is a happy image, with which, however, Jesus teaches a truth that challenges us; in fact, of those ten girls: five enter the feast, because, when the bridegroom arrives, they have the oil to light their lamps; while the other five remain outside, because, foolish, they did not bring the oil. What does this 'oil', indispensable to be admitted to the wedding feast, represent? St Augustine (cf. Sermons 93:4) and other ancient authors read in it a symbol of love, which cannot be bought, but is received as a gift, kept in one's heart and practised in one's works. True wisdom is to take advantage of mortal life to perform works of mercy, because after death, this will no longer be possible. When we are awakened for the last judgement, this will be on the basis of the love practised in earthly life (cf. Mt 25:31-46). And this love is Christ's gift, poured into us by the Holy Spirit. Whoever believes in God-Love carries within him an invincible hope, like a lamp with which to cross the night beyond death, and reach the great feast of life".

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 6 November 2011]