By telling his disciples that he must suffer and be put to death, and then rise again, Jesus wants to make them understand his true identity. He is a Messiah who suffers, a Messiah who serves, and not some triumphant political saviour. He is the Servant who obeys his Father’s will, even to giving up his life. This had already been foretold by the prophet Isaiah in today’s first reading. Jesus thus contradicts the expectations of many. What he says is shocking and disturbing. We can understand the reaction of Peter who rebukes him, refusing to accept that his Master should suffer and die! Jesus is stern with Peter; he makes him realize that anyone who would be his disciple must become a servant, just as he became Servant.

Following Jesus means taking up one’s cross and walking in his footsteps, along a difficult path which leads not to earthly power or glory but, if necessary, to self-abandonment, to losing one’s life for Christ and the Gospel in order to save it. We are assured that this is the way to the resurrection, to true and definitive life with God. Choosing to walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, who made himself the Servant of all, requires drawing ever closer to him, attentively listening to his word and drawing from it the inspiration for all that we do.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Beirut 16 September 2012]

This is yet another direction of the road on which Advent sets us on. Man not only walks towards God through what is in him: through his incompleteness, his threat, and at the same time the transcendental character of his personality, directed towards truth, the good, the beautiful; through culture and science; through the desire and nostalgia for a more human world, more worthy of man.

Man not only walks towards God (moreover, often without knowing it or even denying it) through his own advent: through the cry of his humanity. Man walks towards God, walking, in the history of salvation, before God: before the Lord, as we hear in the Gospel with regard to John the Baptist, who had to walk before the Lord in spirit and strength.

This new direction of man's path of advent is connected in a special way with the Advent of Christ. However, man walks "before the Lord" from the beginning and will walk before Him to the end, because he is simply the image of God. Therefore, walking through the streets of the world, he tells the world and bears witness to himself of Whom he is the image.

He walks before the Lord, subduing the earth, for in fact the earth itself, as well as all creation, are subject to the Lord and the Lord has given them into the dominion of man.

He walks before the Lord, filling his humanity and earthly history with the content of his work, with the content of culture and science, with the content of the unceasing quest for truth, goodness, beauty, justice, love, peace. And he walks before the Lord, often enveloping himself in everything that is a negation of truth, goodness and beauty, a negation of justice, love, peace. Sometimes he feels that he is very much enveloped in these negations. Almost by contrast he then feels the full weight of the disfigured image of God in his soul and in his history.

The advent of man meets the advent of Christ.

"O Radix Iesse, qui stas in signum populorum,.... quem gentes deprecabuntur, veni ad liberandum nos, iam noli tardare!"

The Advent of Christ is indispensable, so that man may find in it the certainty that, walking through the world, living from day to day and from year to year, loving and suffering..., he walks before the Lord, whose image he is in the world; that he bears witness to Him before the whole of creation.

[Pope John Paul II, homily to university students 19 December 1980, no. 4]

Before entrusting us with a mission, the Lord prepares us, testing us with a process of purification and discernment. It is the story of the prophet Elijah that prompted the Pope, during the Mass celebrated on Friday morning 13 June in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta, to reflect on this fundamental rule of Christian life.

"In the first reading," said the Pontiff, referring to the passage from the first book of Kings (19:9, 11-16), "we heard the story of Elijah: how the Lord prepares a prophet, how he works in his heart so that this man may be faithful to his word and do what he wants".

The prophet Elijah 'was a strong person of great faith. He rebuked the people for worshipping God and worshiping idols: but if he worshipped idols, he worshipped God badly! And if they worshipped God, they worshipped idols badly!". This is why Elijah said that the people limped "with both feet", had no stability and was not firm in the faith. In his mission "he was courageous" and, in the end, he issued a challenge to the priests of Baal on Mount Carmel and defeated them. "And to finish the story he killed them all", thus putting an end to idolatry "in that part of the people of Israel". So Elijah "was happy because the strength of the Lord was with him".

However, the Pope continued, "the next day, Queen Jezebel - she was the king's wife but she was the one who ruled - threatened him and told him that she would kill him". Faced with this threat Elijah 'was so afraid that he became depressed: he left and wanted to die'. Precisely that prophet who on the previous day "had been so brave and had won" against the priests of Baal, "today is down, does not want to eat and wants to die, such was the depression he had". And all this, the Pontiff explained, "because of the threat of a woman". Therefore 'the four hundred priests of the idol Baal had not frightened him, but this woman did'.

It is a story that 'shows us how the Lord prepares' for the mission. In fact Elijah "with that depression went into the desert to die and lay down awaiting death. But the Lord calls him" and invites him to eat some bread and drink because, he tells him, "you still have a long way to go". And so Elijah "eats, drinks, but then lies down again to die. And the Lord one more time calls to him: go on, go on!".

The point is that Elijah "did not know what to do, but he felt he had to go up the mountain to find God. He was courageous and went up there, with the humility of obedience. For he was obedient". Although in a state of despondency and "with much fear", Elijah "went up the mountain to await God's message, God's revelation: he prayed, because he was good, but he did not know what would happen. He did not know, he was there and waited for the Lord'.

We read in the Old Testament: "And behold, the Lord passed by. There was a mighty, rushing wind to break the mountains and break the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind'. Elijah, the Pope commented, "realised that the Lord was not there". Scripture continues: 'After the wind, an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake'. Therefore, the Pontiff continued, Elijah "discerned that the Lord was not in the earthquake and was not in the wind". And again, the first Book of Kings recounts: 'After the earthquake, a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire, the whisper of a gentle breeze'. And "as he heard it, Elijah realised" that "it was the Lord passing by, he covered his face with his cloak and worshipped the Lord".

In fact, said the bishop of Rome, 'the Lord was not in the wind, the earthquake or the fire, but was in that whisper of a gentle breeze: in peace'. Or 'as the original says, a beautiful expression: the Lord was in a thread of sonorous silence'.

Elijah, therefore, 'knows how to discern where the Lord is, and the Lord prepares him with the gift of discernment'. Then he entrusts him with his mission: "You have been put to the test, you have been put to the test of depression", of being downcast, "of hunger; you have been put to the test of discernment", but now - we read in the Scripture - "return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus, until you come there, you shall anoint Cazael as king over Aram. Then thou shalt anoint Ieu the son of Nimsi as king over Israel, and thou shalt anoint Ezekiel".

This is precisely the mission that awaits Elijah, the Pope explained. And the Lord sent him on that long journey to prepare him for the mission. Perhaps, one could object, it would have been "much easier to say: you were brave enough to kill those four hundred, now go and anoint this one!". Instead, 'the Lord prepares the soul, prepares the heart and prepares it in trial, prepares it in obedience, prepares it in perseverance'.

And "this is how the Christian life is," the Pontiff pointed out. In fact "when the Lord wants to give us a mission, wants to give us a job, he prepares us to do it well", just "as he prepared Elijah". What is important "is not that he met the Lord" but "all the way to the mission that the Lord entrusts". And precisely "this is the difference between the apostolic mission that the Lord gives us and a human, honest, good task". So 'when the Lord gives a mission, he always makes us enter into a process of purification, a process of discernment, a process of obedience, a process of prayer'. Thus, he reiterated, 'it is the Christian life', that is, 'fidelity to this process, to letting ourselves be led by the Lord'.

A great lesson flows from the Elijah story. The prophet 'was afraid, and this is so human', because Jezebel 'was an evil queen who killed her enemies'. Elijah "is afraid, but the Lord is more powerful" and makes him realise that he "needs the Lord's help in preparing for the mission". So Elijah "walks, obeys, suffers, discerns, prays and finds the Lord". Pope Francis concluded with a prayer: "May the Lord give us the grace to allow ourselves to be prepared every day in the journey of our lives, so that we may bear witness to the salvation of Jesus."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 14/06/2014]

single "character", or the Son of man

(Mt 11:16-19)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realise 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.

While in Christ the providence of new structures makes its way, those who are bound to banal forms stubbornly try to re-relate to them.

Whimsical children always complain, when they don’t get a prominent place in the games, or when others do not do what they say.

The Baptist was a prestigious herald, called to the realization of God’s plan [known by reason of his particular figure, perhaps more inclined to renounce].

But the prejudice of mortification was not appreciated: therefore, John was a nuisance to be rejected.

The ‘Son of man’ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; He made no problem of purity [so He too was an exaggeration]: therefore to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged like a demon possessed; the young Rabbi who invited to joy, a lax.

John seemed too demanding, Jesus exaggeratedly wide of ideas and behaviors.

Spoiled kids do not even agree on the game, and they obstinately stand firm on their positions.

Unsatisfied infants reject every proposal: they always have to argue.

But the Revelation goes beyond every Expectation.

Of course, the austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

The Lord instead lived among people, accepting invitations and not trying to look different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible for an Envoy by God.

«Yet Wisdom has been recognized as right by her works» (v.19) ie the little ones read the sign of the times.

The sons recognize the divine Wisdom, they see its design.

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

They don’t have too much ‘control’ over things; they are friends with them.

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

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

Both of which install themselves and dominate - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

These are like childish and insatiable figures, but who neither rise nor move: «seated» (v.16).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the "elected" remain indifferent or misplaced, because they are one-sided, catch and understand only "one thing".

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

They have a starched soul.

Instead, those who do not feel a closed heart are anticipating the Coming of a new Kingdom, by seizing their ‘eternal face’.

[Friday 2nd wk. in Advent, December 12, 2025]

One 'character', or the Son of Man

(Mt 11:16-19)

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 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 was recognised as righteous by her works" (v.19 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.16).

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 - not glossy 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. 19) already designates from the OT the character of a sanctity that surpasses the ancient fiction of 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 one that is 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 "Son of Man", in the language of the 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 on which we will have to reflect more fully later. For now, we would like to complete our analysis of the messianic titles already present to some extent 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?" (John 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" (John 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].

All through the Gospels, it was those who had taken wrong turnings who were particularly loved by Jesus, because once they recognized their mistake, they were all the more open to his healing message. Indeed, Jesus was often criticized by self-righteous members of society for spending so much time with such people. “Why does your master eat with tax collectors and sinners?”, they asked. He responded: “It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick … I did not come to call the virtuous but sinners” (cf. Mt 9:11-13). It was those who were willing to rebuild their lives who were most ready to listen to Jesus and become his disciples. You can follow in their footsteps, you too can grow particularly close to Jesus because you have chosen to turn back towards him. You can be sure that, just like the Father in the story of the prodigal son, Jesus welcomes you with open arms. He offers you unconditional love – and it is in loving friendship with him that the fullness of life is to be found.

[Pope Benedict, meeting with the recovery community, Sydney 18 July 2008]

The particular circumstances of John's birth have been handed down to us by the evangelist Luke. According to an ancient tradition, it took place in Ain-Karim, before the gates of Jerusalem. The circumstances surrounding this birth were so unusual that even at that time people were asking: "What is this child to be?" (Lk 1:66). It was evident to his believing parents, neighbours and relatives that his birth was a sign from God. They clearly saw that the "hand of the Lord" was upon him. This was already demonstrated by the announcement of his birth to his father Zechariah, while he was providing priestly service in the temple in Jerusalem. His mother, Elisabeth, was already advanced in years and was thought to be barren. Even the name 'John' he was given was unusual for his environment. His father himself had to give orders that he be called "John" and not, as everyone else wanted, "Zechariah" (cf. Lk 1:59-63).

The name John means in the Hebrew language "God is merciful". Thus already in the name is expressed the fact that the newborn child would one day announce God's plan of salvation.

The future would fully confirm the predictions and events surrounding his birth: John, son of Zechariah and Elisabeth, became the "voice of one crying out in the wilderness" (Matt 3:3), who on the banks of the Jordan called people to penance and prepared the way for Christ.

Christ himself said of John the Baptist that "among those born of women no greater one has arisen" (cf. Mt 11:11). That is why the Church has also reserved a special veneration for this great messenger of God from the very beginning. An expression of this veneration is today's feast.

4. Dear brothers and sisters! This celebration, with its liturgical texts, invites us to reflect on the question of man's becoming, his origins and his destination. True, we already seem to know a great deal about this subject, both from mankind's long experience and from ever more in-depth biomedical research. But it is the word of God that always re-establishes the essential dimension of the truth about man: man is created by God and willed by God in his image and likeness. No purely human science can demonstrate this truth. At most it can come close to this truth or intuitively surmise the truth about this 'unknown being' that is man from the moment of his conception in the womb.

At the same time, however, we find ourselves witnessing how, in the name of a supposed science, man is 'reduced' in a dramatic trial and represented in a sad simplification; and so it happens that even those rights that are based on the dignity of his person, which distinguishes him from all the other creatures of the visible world, are overshadowed. Those words from the book of Genesis, which speak of man as the creature created in the image and likeness of God, highlight, in a concise yet profound way, the full truth about him.

5. We can also learn this truth about man from today's liturgy, in which the Church prays to God, the creator, in the words of the psalmist:

"Lord, you scrutinise me and know me . . . Thou hast created my bowels and woven me in my mother's womb . . . you know me to the depths. When I was formed in secret . . . my bones were not hidden from thee . . . I praise thee, for thou hast made me like a wonder" (Ps 139 [138], 1. 13-15).

Man is therefore aware of what he is - of what he is from the beginning, from the womb. He knows that he is a creature that God wants to meet and with whom he wants to dialogue. More: in man, he wants to meet the whole of creation.

For God, man is a 'someone': unique and unrepeatable. He, as the Second Vatican Council says, "on earth is the only creature that God willed for itself" (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 24).

"The Lord from my mother's womb has called me; from my mother's womb he has pronounced my name" (Is 49:1); like the name of the child who was born in Ain-Karim: "John". Man is that being whom God calls by name. For God he is the created 'you', of all creatures he is that personal 'I', who can address God and call him by name. God wants that partner in man who addresses him as his own creator and Father: 'You, my Lord and my God'. To the divine "you".

7. God called John the Baptist already "in the womb" so that he might become "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness" and thus prepare the way for his Son. In a very similar way, God has also "laid his hand" on each one of us. For each of us he has a particular call, each of us is entrusted with a task designed by him for us.

In each call, which may come to us in the most diverse way, we hear that divine voice, which then spoke through John: 'Prepare the way of the Lord! "(Mt 3:3).

Every man should ask himself how he can contribute within the scope of his work and position, to open the way for God in this world. Every time we open ourselves to God's call, we prepare, like John, the way of the Lord among men.

[Pope John Paul II, homily Eisenstaedt 24 June 1988]

There are Christians who have "a certain allergy to preachers of the word": they accept "the truth of revelation" but not "the preacher", preferring "a caged life". This happened in Jesus' time and unfortunately continues to happen today in those who live closed in on themselves, because they are afraid of the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit.

For Pope Francis, this is the teaching that comes from the readings of the liturgy celebrated on Friday morning, 13 December, in the chapel of Santa Marta. The Pontiff dwelt above all on the passage from the Gospel of Matthew (11, 16-19) in which Jesus compares the generation of his contemporaries "to those children sitting in the squares who turn to their companions and say: we played the flute and you did not dance, we sang a lament and you did not weep".

In this regard, the Bishop of Rome recalled that Christ in the Gospels "always speaks well of children", offering them as a "model of Christian life" and inviting them to "be like them to enter the kingdom of heaven". Instead, he noted, in the passage in question "it is the only time he does not speak so well of them". For the Pope, it is an image of children who are "a bit special: rude, discontented, even scornful"; children who do not know how to be happy while playing and who "always refuse the invitation of others: nothing goes well for them". In particular, Jesus uses this image to describe "the leaders of his people", defined by the Pontiff as "people who were not open to the word of God".

For the Holy Father there is an interesting aspect in this attitude: their rejection, precisely, "is not for the message, it is for the messenger". It is enough to read the Gospel passage to confirm this. "John came, who neither eats nor drinks," the Pope noted, "and they said: he has a devil. The Son of Man came, who eats and drinks, and they said: here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners'. In practice, people have always found reasons to delegitimise the preacher. Just think of the people of that time, who preferred 'to take refuge in a somewhat elaborate religion: in moral precepts, like the Pharisees; in political compromise, like the Sadducees; in social revolution, like the Zealots; in Gnostic spirituality, like the Essenes'. All of them, he added, "with their own neat, well-made system", but which does not accept "the preacher". That is why Jesus refreshes their memory by reminding them of the prophets, who were persecuted and killed.

Accepting "the truth of revelation" and not "the preacher" reveals for the Pontiff a mentality that is the result of "a life caged in precepts, in compromises, in revolutionary plans, in spirituality without flesh". Pope Francis referred in particular to those Christians "who allow themselves not to dance when the preacher gives you good news of joy, and allow themselves not to cry when the preacher gives you sad news". To those Christians, that is, 'who are closed, caged, who are not free'. And the reason is the "fear of the Holy Spirit's freedom, which comes through preaching".

Moreover, "this is the scandal of preaching of which St Paul spoke; the scandal of preaching that ends in the scandal of the cross". In fact, 'it scandalises us that God speaks to us through men with limitations, sinful men; and it scandalises us even more that God speaks to us and saves us through a man who says he is the son of God, but ends up as a criminal'. So for Pope Francis we end up covering up 'the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit', because ultimately 'these sad Christians do not believe in the Holy Spirit; they do not believe in that freedom that comes from preaching, which admonishes you, teaches you, even slaps you, but it is precisely freedom that makes the Church grow'.

So the image of the Gospel, with "children who are afraid to dance, to cry", who are "afraid of everything, who ask for security in everything", makes one think of "these sad Christians, who always criticise the preachers of truth, because they are afraid to open the door to the Holy Spirit". Hence the Pontiff's exhortation to pray for them and also to pray for ourselves, so that "we do not become sad Christians", those who take away "the Holy Spirit's freedom to come to us through the scandal of preaching."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 14/12/2013]

Second Sunday of Advent (year A) [7 December 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! From this Sunday onwards, in addition to the summary of the most important elements of each reading, I will add a brief commentary on the Gospel by a Father of the Church.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (11:1-10)

Isaiah speaks of the root of Jesse and refers to the descendants of King David. Jesse had eight sons, but God chose Samuel not to choose the strongest or the eldest, but the youngest: David, the shepherd, who became the greatest king of Israel. From that moment on, Jesse became the progenitor of a dynasty often represented as a tree destined for a great future, which would never die. The prophet Nathan promised David that his descendants would reign forever and bring unity and peace to the people. But in history, the kings of his lineage did not fully keep these promises. However, it is precisely from disappointments that a stronger hope arises: if God has promised, then it will come to pass. How did the idea of the Messiah come about? The term 'messiah' (in Hebrew mashiach = 'anointed') originally referred to any king, because he was 'anointed' with oil on the day of his coronation. Over time, however, the word 'messiah' took on the meaning of 'ideal king', the one who brings justice, peace and happiness. When Isaiah says, 'A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse', it means that even if David's dynasty seems like a dead tree, God can bring forth a new shoot, an ideal king: the Messiah, who will be guided by the Spirit of the Lord. The seven gifts of the Spirit, symbols of fullness, will rest upon him: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, and the fear of the Lord, which is not fear but trust and respect as a son. The Messiah will rule as God wills: with justice and faithfulness, and his task will be to wage war on injustice: He will judge the poor with justice... not according to appearances... he will put an end to wickedness with the breath of his lips. 'The wicked' does not refer to a person, but to wickedness itself, like saying 'waging war on war'. Isaiah describes a world where the wolf lives with the lamb, the child plays without fear, there is no more violence or conflict. It is not a return to paradise on earth, but the final fulfilment of God's plan, when the knowledge of the Lord will fill the earth. The root of Jesse will be a sign for all peoples, and the Messiah concerns not only Israel but all nations. Jesus himself will take up this idea: "When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself" (Jn 12:32). Isaiah preaches in the eighth century BC, at a time of political pressure and threats from neighbouring empires. The tree of David seems to be dead, but Isaiah urges us not to lose hope. The "animal fable" uses symbols to speak of human beings, as La Fontaine would do many centuries later, and constitutes a promise of peace, brotherhood and universal reconciliation. Martin Luther King, in his "I have a dream" speech, drew direct inspiration from these images used by Isaiah (cf. 11:2): a world where justice and brotherhood overcome violence.

The central theme can be summed up in one sentence: From the seemingly dead trunk of David's dynasty, God is so faithful that, when all seems lost, he revives his promise from a fragment, from a stump: hope is born precisely where man can no longer see anything. God will raise up a Messiah guided by the Spirit, who will fight injustice and bring universal peace to all peoples. God is faithful, and even from a dead trunk he can bring forth new life. It is messianic peace, the final reconciliation of creation. There are times when we too feel like a cut tree: failures, disappointments, repeated sins, broken relationships, projects that do not come to fruition, communities that seem to be losing strength. Isaiah announces: God is not finished with you either, and even where you see no future, He sees a sprout. Continue to hope, because God sees sprouts where we see only dry wood.

*Responsorial Psalm (71/72, 1-2, 7-8, 12-13, 17)

Psalm 71/72 is a prayer that arose after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer a king in Israel. This means that the psalm no longer speaks of an earthly ruler, but of the king promised by God: the Messiah. Since it is God who promises him, his fulfilment is certain. The entire Bible is permeated with an indestructible hope: history has meaning and direction, and God has a plan of happiness for humanity. This plan takes on different names (the Day of the Lord, the Kingdom of Heaven, the benevolent plan), but it is always the same: like a lover who repeats words of love, God tirelessly proposes his plan of salvation.

This plan is announced from the beginning, in the vocation of Abraham (Gen 12:3): 'All the families of the earth shall be blessed in you'. The revelation is therefore universal from the outset. Israel is chosen not to manage a privilege, but to be a service and a sign for all peoples. The psalm takes up this promise: in the Messiah, all nations will be blessed and will call him blessed. It also takes up the other promise made to Abraham (Gen 15:18), namely the gift of the land "from the river of Egypt to the great river". Echoing this, the psalm says: "He shall rule from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth." The book of Sirach (Sir 44:21) confirms this reading, linking together universal blessing, multiplication of descendants and extended inheritance. Although today the idea of a universal ruler may seem far removed from democratic sensibilities, and indeed there is fear of the imposition of a hidden world authority that would dominate the whole of humanity, the Bible reminds us that every ruler is only an instrument in the hands of God, and what matters is the people, considering the whole of humanity as one vast people, and the psalm announces a pacified humanity: In those days, justice will flourish, great peace until the end of time, poverty and oppression defeated. The dream of justice and peace runs through the entire Scripture: Jerusalem means 'city of peace'; Deuteronomy 15 states that there will be no more poor people. The psalm fits into this line: the Messiah will help the poor who cry out, the weak without help, the miserable who have no defence. The prayer of the psalm does not serve to remind God of his promises, because God does not forget. Instead, it serves to help man learn to look at the world through God's eyes, remember his plan and find the strength to work towards its realisation. Justice, peace and the liberation of the poor will not come about magically: God invites believers to cooperate, allowing themselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit with light, strength and grace.

Important points to remember: +Psalm 72 is messianic: written when there were no more kings, it announces the Messiah promised by God.+History has meaning: God has a plan of happiness for all humanity.+The promises to Abraham are the foundation: universal blessing and inheritance without borders.+The Messiah will be God's instrument, serving the people and not power.+The world to come will be marked by justice, peace and an end to poverty. +Prayer is not meant to convince God, but to educate us: it opens our eyes to God's plan. Peace and justice will also come through human commitment guided by the Spirit.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Romans (15:4-9)

Saint Paul writes to the Romans: 'Everything that was written before us was written for our instruction... so that we may keep hope alive'. This sentence is the key to reading the entire Bible: Scripture exists to enlighten, liberate and give hope. If a text seems obscure or difficult, it simply means that we have not yet fully understood it: the Good News is always present and we must dig to find it, as if it were a hidden treasure. Scripture nourishes hope because it proclaims on every page a single plan of God: that "merciful design" which is the great love story of God with humanity. The entire Bible, from the Old to the New Testament, has only one subject: the plan of salvation and communion that God wants to realise in the Messiah. Paul then moves on to a concrete theme: the Christians in Rome were divided. There were two groups: Christians who came from Judaism and were still attached to Jewish religious and dietary practices, and Christians who came from paganism and considered such observances outdated. This diversity gave rise to discord, mutual judgement and suspicion. Liturgical and cultural differences became real conflicts. This situation is very similar to the tensions that exist even today in the Church between different sensibilities. Paul does not propose dividing the community into two separate groups. Instead, he proposes the path of cohabitation, the building of peace, patience and mutual tolerance, inviting everyone to seek what promotes peace and what builds up the community. Let each one seek the good of the other, and may 'the God of perseverance and consolation' grant you to live in harmony according to Christ. The fundamental principle is: 'Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you'. Paul recalls that Christ took upon himself the mission of the Servant of God announced by Isaiah: chosen and elected by God, formed every morning by the Word, giver of his own life, bringer of salvation to all nations. Christ, by dying and rising again, united the Jews, saved in continuity with their Covenant, and the pagans, saved by God's gratuitous mercy. For this reason, no one can claim superiority; rather, everything is grace, everything is a gift from Christ, and true worship is this: to overcome the past, to recognise the gift received, to welcome one another without distinction, to sing together of God's faithfulness and mercy.

Important elements to remember: +Scripture exists to give hope. Every page of the Bible is Good News. If we do not find liberation, we have not yet understood the text. + The Bible proclaims a single plan. God's "providential plan" is to bring humanity to communion and salvation through the Messiah. +Paul corrects a divided community: In Rome, there were tensions between Christians of Jewish and pagan origin. Practical and cultural differences created judgements and conflicts. The Christian solution is not to separate. Paul proposes cohabitation, patience, and mutual edification. The community is a 'building' that must be constructed with peace and tolerance. +The model is Christ the Servant who united everyone: Jews and pagans. No one can boast: everything is grace. +The watchword: welcome: Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you. The Church is alive when it overcomes divisions and lives mercy.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (3:1-12)

When John the Baptist begins his preaching, Judea has been under Roman rule for 90 years, Herod is in power but deeply hated; religious currents are divided and confused; there are collaborators, resisters, false prophets, messianic agitators. The people are tired and disoriented, and it is in this climate that the preaching of John, who lives in the desert of Judea (between Jerusalem and the Jordan), begins. Matthew insists on the spiritual meaning of the desert: he recalls the Exodus, the Covenant, purification, the loving relationship between God and Israel (Hosea) and sees the desert as the place of return to truth and decision. In John, everything recalls the great prophets: he wears camel's hair, eats locusts and honey, and lives an ascetic lifestyle. Many consider him the possible return of Elijah, awaited to prepare for the coming of God (Malachi 3:23). His preaching has a double prophetic tone: sweet and comforting for the humble; harsh and provocative for the proud. The expression "brood of vipers" is not a personal insult, but a way of saying, "you are following the logic of the tempting serpent," and is therefore an invitation to change one's attitude. John invites everyone to make a righteous discernment in their lives: what is healthy remains, what is corrupt is eliminated. And to be incisive, he uses strong images: fire burning straw (a reference to the prophet Malachi), a sieve separating wheat from chaff, a threshing floor where the choice is made - and this is the meaning: everything in us that is death will be purified; everything that is authentic will be saved and preserved. It is a liberating judgement, not a destructive one. John announces Jesus: 'I baptise you with water, but the one who comes after me... will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire'. Only God can give the Spirit, and so John implicitly affirms the divinity of Jesus. The images used: 'Stronger than me' is a typical attribute of God. "I am not worthy to carry his sandals or untie his sandals": with this he recognises Jesus' divine dignity. Although he is a teacher followed by disciples, John puts himself in the second row; he recognises Jesus' superiority and paves the way for the Messiah. His greatness consists precisely in making room. Matthew shows him as a "voice in the desert" with reference to Isaiah 40:3, also linked to Elijah (2 Kings 1:8; Malachi 3:23), in the line of prophets to introduce Jesus as God present and judge. Chapters 3-4 of Matthew are a hinge: here begins the preaching of the Kingdom.

Important elements to remember: +John appears in a context of oppression and moral confusion: his word brings light and discernment. +The desert is a place of new covenant, truth and conversion. +John presents himself with prophetic signs (clothing, food, style) reminiscent of Elijah. +His preaching is twofold: consolation for the little ones, provocation for those who are sure of themselves. +Judgement is internal, not against categories of people: it purifies the evil in each person. Fire does not destroy man, but what is dead in him: it is a fire of love and truth. +Jesus accomplishes purification by baptising in the Holy Spirit, something that only God can do, and John recognises the divinity of Jesus with gestures of great humility. +The greatness of the Precursor lies in stepping aside to make room for the Messiah, and Matthew places him as a bridge between the Old and New Covenants, inaugurating the preaching of the Kingdom.

St John Chrysostom – Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12

'John appears in the desert not by chance, but to recall the ancient path of Israel.

Israel was educated in the desert, and now conversion begins again in the desert. His rough clothing and simple food show that he is free from all vanity, like Elijah. For this reason, the people, tired of the leaders of the time, flock to him: they see in John a truthful man who does not seek glory but leads to the truth." Chrysostom then explains the prophetic and moral content of John's preaching: By calling them a 'brood of vipers', he is not insulting them, but shaking them up so that they realise the poison that corrupts them. He does not attack people, but the evil that possesses them.

The judgement he announces is not against men, but against their evil deeds: fire burns guilt, not human nature." And regarding the announcement of the Messiah: "By saying, 'One more powerful than I is coming after me,' John does not compare himself to another man, but to God. For only God is said to be the Strong One. And when he adds, 'He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit', he openly confesses that the One who is coming has divine power. For this reason, he declares that he is not even worthy to untie his sandals: not because he despises himself, but because he recognises the greatness of Christ." Finally, Chrysostom interprets the mission of the Precursor:

"His greatness consists in diminishing so that Christ may grow. He is the voice that prepares the Word; he is the bridge that connects the Old Covenant to the New. He shows that all that the prophets awaited is now fulfilled: the King is near, and the Kingdom begins."

+Giovanni D'Ercole