They brought the Light through

Embodying the spirit of the Beatitudes, we ask ourselves what is the difference between common 'religious feeling', and 'living by Faith'.

In ancient devotions, the saint is the composite man sui, perfect and detached [but predictable]; and the opposite of saint is 'sinner'.

In the proposal of full life in the Lord, the 'saint' is a person of communicative understanding and who lives for conviviality, creating it where there is none.

In the path of the sons, the saint is indeed the excellent man, but in its full sense - full and dynamic, multifaceted; even eccentric. Not in a one-sided, moralistic or sentimental sense.

In the Latin language perfìcere means to complete, to go to the end.

In such a complete and integral meaning, 'perfect' becomes an authentic embodied value: a possible attribute - of every person who is aware of his or her own condition of vulnerability, and does not despise it.

The woman and man of Faith value every occasion or emotion that exposes the condition of nakedness [not guilt] in order to open new paths and renew themselves.

From the point of view of life in the Spirit, the saint [in Hebrew Qadosh, a divine attribute] is indeed the 'detached' man, but not in a partial or physical sense, but ideal.

He is not the person who at a certain point in life distances himself from the human family to embark on a path of purification that would elevate him. Deluding himself that he is getting better.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti emphasises: 'A human being [...] does not realise himself, does not develop, cannot find his own fullness [... and] does not come to fully recognise his own truth except in the encounter with others' (No.87).

The authentic witness is not animated by contempt for existential chaos - nor eager to outsource the difficulties of managing one's own freedom by handing it over to an alienating agency with a secluded mentality (which solves the drama of personal choices).

In Christ, man is "disjointed" from the common mentality, insofar as he is faithful to himself, to his own Fire that is not extinguished - to the passions, to his own unrepeatable uniqueness and Vocation.

And at the same time, "separated" from external competitive criteria: of having, of power, of appearance. Self-destructive powers.

To the latter, he concretely substitutes the fraternity of giving, of serving and of diminishing [from "character"]. Fruitful energies.

All for the global Communion, and in Truth also with one's own intimate character seed - avoiding proselytising and being noticed in the catwalks.

The true believer knows his redeemed limit, sees the possibilities of imperfection.... Thus he replaces the presuppositions of keeping for oneself, of climbing over others and dominating them, with a fundamental humanising triptych: giving, freedom to 'come down', collaboration.

This is the authentic Detachment, which does not flee one's own and others' inclinations, nor does it despise the complex trait of the human condition.

In this way, the "saint" lives the essential Bliss of the persecuted (Mt 5:11-12; Lk 6:22-23) because he has the freedom to "lower himself" in order to be in tune with his own essence; co-existing in his originality.

In terms of Faith, the saint is thus no longer a physically "separate", but rather "united" to Christ - and banished like Him, into the weak brothers and sisters.

In short, the divine Design is to compose Families of the small and shaky, not to carve out a group of "strong" friends, and "better" than the others.

Only this horizon of the Hearth drives us on.

Consequently, the opposite of Saint is not "sinful", but rather unrealised or unfinished.

Let us see again why (vocational and personal paths).

Jesus was a friend of publicans and public sinners not because they were better than the good, but because in religion the 'righteous' are often not very spontaneous; making themselves impermeable, closed, refractory to the action of the Spirit.

Surprisingly, the Lord Himself repeatedly experienced that it was precisely the devoutly deficient people who were prone to questioning, realising, reworking, deviating from habit - for the building up of new paths, even groping.

Not being able to enjoy the respectable cloak of social screens, after an awareness of one's own situation (and over time) - compared to those who considered themselves 'arrived' and friends of God - from 'distant' they became people more than the 'impecunious' willing to love.

Questioning is fundamental in a biblical perspective.

At every turn, Scripture proposes a spirituality of the Exodus, that is, a road of liberation from fetters and walked as if on foot, step by step. Hence one that values paths of seeking, exploring, self-discovery and the Newness of a God who does not repeat, but creates.

The call that the Word makes is to embark on an itinerary; that is the point. And we have always been "those of the Way" and who do not pass by, do not look the other way [cf. Lk 10:31-33; FT, 56ff].For the classical pagan mentality, woman and man are essentially 'nature', therefore their being in the world is conditioned [I remember my professor of theological anthropology Ignazio Sanna even used to say 'de-centred'], even determined by birth (fortunate or not).

According to the Bible, woman and man are creatures, splendid and adequate in themselves for their mission, but pilgrim and lacking.

God is the One who 'calls' them to complete themselves, making up for their deficient aspects.

To come to be the image and likeness of the Lord, we must develop the capacity to respond to a Vocation that makes us not phenomena, nor exceptional 'perfect' ones, but particular Witnesses.

Chosen by Name, just as we are; who embrace their deep being - even unexpressed - to the point of recognising it in the You, and unfolding it in the We.

A person's holiness is thus combined with many states of dissatisfaction, boundary, and even partial failure - but always thinking and feeling reality.

For a New Covenant.

In the Old Testament, the believer came into contact with divine purity by frequenting sacred places, fulfilling prescriptions, reciting prayers, respecting times and spaces, avoiding embarrassing situations; and so on.

Our experience and conscience infallibly attest that strict observance is too rare, or mannered: within, it often does not correspond to us - nor does it humanise us.

It sooner or later becomes a house of cards, shaky the more it points 'upwards'. All it takes is to lay one of them out clumsily, and the artificial construction collapses.

We realise our natural inability to meet such high sterilisations, (other people's) maps and standards.

With Jesus, Perfection is not about 'thinking', nor is it about adherence to an abstract code of observances. Perfection is about a quality of Exodus and Relationship.

In ancient contexts, the path of the sons has been cloaked with a mystical or renunciatory proposal of abstinence, fasting, retreats, secluded living, obsessive cultic observances... which in many situations formed the backbone of pre-Conciliar spirituality.

But in Scripture, saints do not have a halo or wings.

They are not such because they performed incomparable and astounding miracles of healing: they are women and men embedded in the ordinary world and in the most ordinary aspects. 

They know the problems, weaknesses, joys and sorrows of everyday life; the search for their own identity-character, or deep inclination.

And the apostolate; the family, raising children, work. The seductive power of evil, even.

In the First Testament, 'Qadosh' exclusively designated an attribute of the Eternal [the only non-intermittent Person] - and its separateness from the entanglement of often confused earthly ambitions.

Despite the flaws, however, in Christ we become capable of listening, of perception; thus enabled to seize every opportunity to bear witness to the innate, vital Gratuity of divine and real initiative.

Unceasingly, providential life proposes itself and comes to open unthinkable, breaching gaps.

Its unprecedented journeys of growth renew the existence all linked and conforming.

This also makes us marvel at intimate resources, previously unconscious or unconfessed and concealed, or unforeseeably hidden behind dark sides.

That which is insignificant is no longer moved behind clouds and placed in fortified enclosures.

Therefore, God's adversary will not be transgression: instead, it becomes the lack of a spirit of communion, in differences.

The enemy of the Salvation story is not religious incompleteness, but the gap from the Beatitudes - and from the unfolding spirit of the 'wayfarer' for whom 'wandering' is also synonymous [not paradoxical] with 'wandering'.

God's counterpart is thus not 'sins', but 'the' Sin [in the singular, a theological term, not a moralistic one].

"Sin" is the inability to correspond to an indicative Calling, which acts as a spring to complete us, to regenerate us not to be partial. This by harmonising opposite sides - in being ourselves and being-With.

Here it is the Faith that 'saves', where we are - because it annihilates 'the sin of the world' (Jn 1:29), that is, the disbelief and guilt; the humiliation of unbridgeable distances.

In fact, Jesus does not recommend doctrines, nor does he recommend parcelling out one's life with punctual ethylisms. Nor does he envisage any religious ascent [in terms of progressiveness] peppered with effort.

To no one in the Gospels does Christ say 'become holy', but with Him, like Him and in Him - united, to encounter one's deepest states unceasingly.

Recognising them better, also through the You and the We.

The Saint is the little one, not the all-in-one, uniform, predictable hero.The saint is he who, walking his own path in the wake of the Risen One, has learnt to "identify himself with the other, regardless of where [or] from where [...] ultimately experiencing that others are his own flesh" (cf. FT 84).

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

Our Eucharistic celebration began with the exhortation: "Let us all rejoice in the Lord". The liturgy invites us to share in the heavenly jubilation of the Saints, to taste their joy. The Saints are not a small caste of chosen souls but an innumerable crowd to which the liturgy urges us to raise our eyes. This multitude not only includes the officially recognized Saints, but the baptized of every epoch and nation who sought to carry out the divine will faithfully and lovingly. We are unacquainted with the faces and even the names of many of them, but with the eyes of faith we see them shine in God's firmament like glorious stars. 

Today, the Church is celebrating her dignity as "Mother of the Saints, an image of the Eternal City" (A. Manzoni), and displays her beauty as the immaculate Bride of Christ, source and model of all holiness. She certainly does not lack contentious or even rebellious children, but it is in the Saints that she recognizes her characteristic features and precisely in them savours her deepest joy. 

In the first reading, the author of the Book of Revelation describes them as "a great multitude which no man could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues" (Rv 7: 9). 

This people includes the Saints of the Old Testament, starting with the righteous Abel and the faithful Patriarch, Abraham, those of the New Testament, the numerous early Christian Martyrs and the Blesseds and Saints of later centuries, to the witnesses of Christ in this epoch of ours. 

They are all brought together by the common desire to incarnate the Gospel in their lives under the impulse of the Holy Spirit, the life-giving spirit of the People of God. 

But "why should our praise and glorification, or even the celebration of this Solemnity, mean anything to the Saints?". A famous homily of St Bernard for All Saints' Day begins with this question. It could equally well be asked today. And the response the Saint offers us is also timely: "The Saints", he says, "have no need of honour from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs.... But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning" (Disc. 2, Opera Omnia Cisterc. 5, 364ff.). 

This, then, is the meaning of today's Solemnity: looking at the shining example of the Saints to reawaken within us the great longing to be like them; happy to live near God, in his light, in the great family of God's friends. Being a Saint means living close to God, to live in his family. And this is the vocation of us all, vigorously reaffirmed by the Second Vatican Council and solemnly proposed today for our attention. 

But how can we become holy, friends of God? We can first give a negative answer to this question: to be a Saint requires neither extraordinary actions or works nor the possession of exceptional charisms. Then comes the positive reply: it is necessary first of all to listen to Jesus and then to follow him without losing heart when faced by difficulties. "If anyone serves me", he warns us, "he must follow me; and where I am, there shall my servant be also; if any one serves me, the Father will honour him" (Jn 12: 26). 

Like the grain of wheat buried in the earth, those who trust him and love him sincerely accept dying to themselves. Indeed, he knows that whoever seeks to keep his life for himself loses it, and whoever gives himself, loses himself, and in this very way finds life (cf. Jn 12: 24-25). 

The Church's experience shows that every form of holiness, even if it follows different paths, always passes through the Way of the Cross, the way of self-denial. The Saints' biographies describe men and women who, docile to the divine plan, sometimes faced unspeakable trials and suffering, persecution and martyrdom. They persevered in their commitment: "they... have come out of the great tribulation", one reads in Revelation, "they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (Rv 7: 14). Their names are written in the book of life (cf. Rv 20: 12) and Heaven is their eternal dwelling-place. 

The example of the Saints encourages us to follow in their same footsteps and to experience the joy of those who trust in God, for the one true cause of sorrow and unhappiness for men and women is to live far from him. 

Holiness demands a constant effort, but it is possible for everyone because, rather than a human effort, it is first and foremost a gift of God, thrice Holy (cf. Is 6: 3). In the second reading, the Apostle John remarks: "See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are" (I Jn 3: 1). 

It is God, therefore, who loved us first and made us his adoptive sons in Jesus. Everything in our lives is a gift of his love: how can we be indifferent before such a great mystery? How can we not respond to the Heavenly Father's love by living as grateful children? In Christ, he gave us the gift of his entire self and calls us to a personal and profound relationship with him. 

Consequently, the more we imitate Jesus and remain united to him the more we enter into the mystery of his divine holiness. We discover that he loves us infinitely, and this prompts us in turn to love our brethren. Loving always entails an act of self-denial, "losing ourselves", and it is precisely this that makes us happy. 

Thus, we have come to the Gospel of this feast, the proclamation of the Beatitudes which we have just heard resound in this Basilica. 

Jesus says: Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed those who mourn, the meek; blessed those who hunger and thirst for justice, the merciful; blessed the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted for the sake of justice (cf. Mt 5: 3-10). 

In truth, the blessed par excellence is only Jesus. He is, in fact, the true poor in spirit, the one afflicted, the meek one, the one hungering and thirsting for justice, the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemaker. He is the one persecuted for the sake of justice. 

The Beatitudes show us the spiritual features of Jesus and thus express his mystery, the mystery of his death and Resurrection, of his passion and of the joy of his Resurrection. This mystery, which is the mystery of true blessedness, invites us to follow Jesus and thus to walk toward it. 

To the extent that we accept his proposal and set out to follow him - each one in his own circumstances - we too can participate in his blessedness. With him, the impossible becomes possible and even a camel can pass through the eye of a needle (cf. Mk 10: 25); with his help, only with his help, can we become perfect as the Heavenly Father is perfect (cf. Mt 5: 48). 

Dear brothers and sisters, we are now entering the heart of the Eucharistic celebration that encourages and nourishes holiness. In a little while, Christ will make himself present in the most exalted way, Christ the true Vine to whom the faithful on earth and the Saints in Heaven are united like branches. 

Thus, the communion of the pilgrim Church in the world with the Church triumphant in glory will increase. 

In the Preface we will proclaim that the Saints are friends and models of life for us. Let us invoke them so that they may help us to imitate them and strive to respond generously, as they did, to the divine call. 

In particular, let us invoke Mary, Mother of the Lord and mirror of all holiness. May she, the All Holy, make us faithful disciples of her Son Jesus Christ! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily 1 November 2006]

1. At the end of this solemn celebration in honour of All Saints, our gaze turns upwards. Today's feast reminds us that we were made for heaven, where Our Lady has already gone and now awaits us.

The Christian life means journeying here below with our hearts turned upwards, towards our heavenly Father's House. This was how the saints journeyed, as the Virgin Mother of the Lord did first of all. The Jubilee reminds us of this essential dimension of holiness: our state as pilgrims who each day seek the kingdom of God while trusting in divine Providence. This is genuine Christian hope, which has nothing to do with fatalism or an escape from history. On the contrary, it spurs us to concrete commitment, as we look to Christ, God made man, who opens for us the way to heaven.

2. In this perspective we are preparing to celebrate All Souls Day tomorrow. We go in spirit to the graves of our loved ones, who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith and now await the support of our prayer. I promise to remember those who lost their lives this year; I am thinking especially of the victims of human violence: in God's heart may they all find the peace for which they long.

3. In this light, Mary appears even more as the Queen of saints and the Mother of our hope. It is to her that we turn, so that she will guide us on the way of holiness and assist us at every moment of our life, now and at the hour of our death.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 1 November 2000]

The Solemnity of All Saints is “our” celebration: not because we are good, but because the sanctity of God has touched our life. The Saints are not perfect models, but people through whom God has passed. We can compare them to the Church windows which allow light to enter in different shades of colour. The saints are our brothers and sisters who have welcomed the light of God in their heart and have passed it on to the world, each according to his or her own “hue”. But they were all transparent; they fought to remove the stains and the darkness of sin, so as to enable the gentle light of God to pass through. This is life’s purpose: to enable God’s light to pass through; it is the purpose of our life too.

Indeed, today in the Gospel, Jesus addresses his followers, all of us, telling us we are “Blessed” (Mt 5:3). It is the word with which he begins his sermon, which is the “Gospel”, Good News, because it is the path of happiness. Those who are with Jesus are blessed; they are happy. Happiness is not in having something or in becoming someone, no. True happiness is being with the Lord and living for love. Do you believe this? True happiness is not in having something or in becoming someone; true happiness is being with the Lord and living for love. Do you believe this? We must go forth, believing in this. So, the ingredients for a happy life are called Beatitudes: blessed are the simple, the humble who make room for God, who are able to weep for others and for their own mistakes, who remain meek, fight for justice, are merciful to all, safeguard purity of heart, always work for peace and abide in joy, do not hate and, even when suffering, respond to evil with good.

These are the Beatitudes. They do not require conspicuous gestures; they are not for supermen, but for those who live the trials and toils of every day, for us. This is how the saints are: like everyone, they breathe air polluted by the evil there is in the world, but on the journey they never lose sight of Jesus’ roadmap, that indicated in the Beatitudes, which is like the map of Christian life.

Today is the celebration of those who have reached the destination indicated by this map: not only the saints on the calendar, but many brothers and sisters “next door”, whom we may have met and known. Today is a family celebration, of many simple, hidden people who in reality help God to move the world forward. And there are so many of them today! There are so many of them! Thanks to these unknown brothers and sisters who help God to move the world forward, who live among us; let us salute them all with a nice round of applause!

First of all — the first Beatitude says — they are “poor in spirit” (Mt 5:3). What does this mean? That they do not live for success, power and money; they know that those who set aside treasure for themselves are not rich toward God (cf. Lk 12:21). Rather, they believe that the Lord is life’s treasure, and love for neighbour the only true source of gain. At times we are dissatisfied due to something we lack, or worried if we are not considered as we would like; let us remember that our Beatitude is not here but in the Lord and in love: only with him, only by loving do we live as blessed.

Lastly I would like to quote another beatitude, which is not found in the Gospel but at the end of the Bible, and it speaks of the end of life: “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord” (Rev 14:13). Tomorrow we will be called to accompany with prayer our deceased, so they may be forever joyful in the Lord. Let us remember our loved ones with gratitude and let us pray for them. May the Mother of God, Queen of the Saints and Gate of Heaven, intercede for our journey of holiness and for our loved ones who have gone before us and who have already departed for the heavenly Homeland.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 1 November 2017]

End of a "sacred" order

(Lk 13:31-35)

The context in which Jesus lives is threatening: the power [even of the periphery courts of the Empire] was absolute and he did not account to anyone for the small-scale management.

But the building up of the Kingdom of God does not depend on any authorization of rapacious rulers on the territory of the provinces.

Those who want to fulfil their mission cannot satisfy the «foxes» who usurp power.

They are small and harmful situation’s parasites, but quick - even if they are not big roaring fairs as in the roman and senatorial court.

With his cunning attitude, king Herod (astute collaborationist) had managed to secure dominance for several decades, and a life without big jolts.

Each village in Palestine was manned by officials and delators of the sovereign, as well as practitioners and subordinates of the official popular religion [including the Pharisees, which Jesus sends back to the sender: v.32].

Antipas always plotted to float on situations and be at peace. 

But after having deluded himself of having settled the Baptist and his school with him, here the king is again alarmed by the rise of a greater danger.

The young Rabbi spread deep confidence not in the strong, but in the weak. In this way, he was working deeply in consciences, and seemed to be able to outclass even the Prophets.

If the inspectors had rushed from the centre of power over the territory (v.31), Jesus must have made it really big. Thus demonstrating total freedom from conditioning.

Therefore, the success of his thought could have provoked disorder in the structure of the system.

But God’s messengers do not flee from risk. They do this not out of duty, but out of fidelity to themselves, and because they are attracted by a Vision that belongs to everyone: they manage to grasp and sense that the pains of childbirth will generate new Births.

In short, Jesus and his close friends live an existence marked by a kind of attraction of the Cross - out of Love that goes to the end, all the way, and does not disdain comparisons.

Jerusalem was the center of the people of God’ sons, "chosen" [only] to unfold the face of the Father.

Vocation of the holy city was not to surrender to a fox (v.32) but to become a brooding hen [v.34: properly, «hen»] that does not close but spreads wings for its little ones, gathering all the innocent.

Of course, their feeling for the fate of a homeland that lets itself go to vanities, to the ideology of power and its "advantage", embarking on the path of self-destruction, makes us weep with pain.

However - although defenestrated from his House in the holy city, as well as from the heart of those who demand only quietism - in Christ the authentic People of friends will propose themselves again (v.35) also on the path of failure.

Not colonizing the features, but in a simple way (not unilateral): inclusive; expanding the horizon and detaching from the tinsel and trappings.

Deviating from the cunning of Herod and all «foxes» (v.32).

[Thursday 30th wk. in O.T.  October 31, 2024]

End of a "sacred" order

(Lk 13:31-35)

The context in which Jesus lives is ominous: the power [even of the peripheral courts of the Empire] was absolute and accountable to no one for its petty management.

But the building of the Kingdom of God does not depend on any authorisation, on any permission, on any good-natured concession by the usual known and rapacious rulers, on the territory of the provinces.

Those who want to fulfil their mission cannot please the 'foxes' who usurp power.

They are small and harmful situational pests, but they are quick-witted - though not as big boisterous beasts as in the Roman and senatorial courts.

With his shrewd attitude, King Herod (a cunning collaborator) had managed to secure his rule for several decades, and a smooth life.

Every village in Palestine was manned by the ruler's officials and denouncers, as well as practitioners and subordinates of the official popular religion [also Pharisees, whom Jesus sends back: v.32].

Antipas always managed to float over the situation and be at peace. 

But after he had deluded himself that he had settled the Baptist and with him his school, here he was again alarmed by the emergence of a greater danger.

The young Rabbi exuded confidence not in the strong, but in the weak. In this way, he worked deep in the consciences, and it seemed that he could surpass even the Prophets.

In fact, he had begun to arouse more emotions than the usual proposal of purifying the Temple and rekindling the spirit of the identity-religious, ancient origins.

Then, if from the centre of power in the land the inspectors had hastily arrived (v.31), Jesus must have really done it. Thus demonstrating total freedom from conditioning.

Therefore the success of his thought could have caused turmoil in the system.

But God's messengers do not leave risk territory, even knowing what awaits them: rejection, and worse.

True envoys do not give up, they do not allow themselves to be overwhelmed by seductions, nor beguiled by intimidators.

They do not do it out of duty, but out of loyalty to themselves, and because they are attracted by a Vision that belongs to everyone.

They are able to grasp the paradoxical fruitfulness of the Mystery, and precisely foresee that the pains of childbirth will generate new Births.

Then without more ado they go up to the city that martyrs the non-middle-aged (v.33).

All this, face to face with the opposition of the sullen and well-organised official authorities, who know how to debase the effervescence of people's lives.

Jesus and his intimates, if true followers, lead an existence marked by a kind of attraction of the cross - for Love that goes all the way and does not disdain confrontations [not because they are animated by sorrowful masochisms].

Certainly, their feeling for the fate of a homeland that indulges in vanities, the ideology of power and its 'advantage', embarking on the track of self-destruction, brings tears of sorrow.

Jerusalem was the centre of the people of God's children, "chosen" [only] to unfold the face of the Father.

The vocation of the holy city was not to surrender itself to a fox (v.32) but to become a hen [v.34: properly, "hen"] that does not close but spreads its wings for its young, gathering all the innocent.

The 'animals' that Christ in his callings proposes to us as a model are not the regal and predominant ones such as the eagle, the bull or the lion, but rather the domestic, subordinate and insignificant ones: lamb, hen, donkey, foal [e.g., "the hen", "the colt", "the lamb", "the donkey", "the colt"]. Messianic Entrance (Lk 19:28-40) followed by the Wailing over Jerusalem (vv.41-44)].

For fear of not recognising him with sufficient dignity, his traditional 'bestiary' (as triumphant and High as it was meant to be inculcated in the unwitting masses) often had nothing to do, unfortunately, with the Gospel datum.

However - although defenestrated from its House in the holy city, as well as from the hearts of those who demand only quietism - in Christ the authentic People of friends will re-propose themselves (v.35) even on the road to failure.

Not out of affected goodness: in the meantime he will have broadened the horizon of his paternity to other peoples, in favour of concrete involvement.

This without - ever again - the swampy confines of local, specific, sometimes usurping culture, which everywhere produces alienation and disintegration.

By and large, things have gone as the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (paraphrasing) subtly denounces. In short, the best way forward has been deemed in history [by the prevailing dirigiste conviction] not to integrate, but to subjugate - arousing despair and constant distrust in the development of the common good. Despair and mistrust, masked "with the defence of certain values" [n.15].The ecclesiology of triumph once served as a foil to the kind of world that tended to dissolve particular consciousnesses.

In such top-down procedures, tensions were transferred by exacerbating even 'horizontal' conflicts - then colonising them; finally silencing them [FT nn.14-15].

Living word and current history, which sooner or later must be remedied. In a simple but not one-sided way: inclusive.

Thanks to a better biblical awareness and with the contribution of a new Magisterium, the living and cosmic Jesus becomes flesh.

He gradually detaches us from the trappings of a kingdom that seemed to satisfy consciences with the scheme of order... diverting us to the cunning of Herod and the "foxes" (v.32).

To internalise and live the message:

How do you live the critical moments of Redemption? Do you go along with the normalising inspectors who try to instil fear, or do you follow your prophetic mission?

What do you think of the cultural revolution taking place in the Church? Does it solicit - disturb - confirm you as son and brother? Let us hope so.

But what direction is this? How do we find it? Our Gospel passage offers two clues in this regard. In the first place it says that it is an ascent. This has first of all a very concrete meaning. Jericho, where the last part of Jesus' pilgrimage began, is 250 metres below sea-level, whereas Jerusalem the destination is located at 740 to 780 metres above sea level: a climb of almost 1,000 metres. But this external route is above all an image of the internal movement of existence that occurs in the following of Christ: it is an ascent to the true heights of being human. Man can choose an easy path and avoid every effort. He can also sink to the low and the vulgar. He can flounder in the swamps of falsehood and dishonesty. Jesus walks before us and towards the heights. He leads us to what is great, pure. He leads us to that healthy air of the heights: to life in accordance with the truth; to courage that does not let itself be intimidated by the gossip of prevalent opinions; to patience that bears with and sustains the other. He guides people to be open towards the suffering, to those who are neglected. He leads us to stand loyally by the other, even when the situation becomes difficult. He leads us to the readiness to give help; to the goodness that does not let itself be disarmed, even by ingratitude. He leads us to love he leads us to God. 

Jesus "went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem". If we interpret these words of the Gospel in the context of the way Jesus took in all its aspects a journey which, precisely, continues to the end of time in the destination, "Jerusalem", we can discover various levels indicated. Of course, first of all, it must be understood that this simply means the place, "Jerusalem": it is the city in which God's Temple stood, whose uniqueness must allude to the oneness of God himself. This place, therefore, proclaims two things: on the one hand it says that there is only one God in all the world, who exceeds by far all our places and times; he is that God to which the entire creation belongs. He is the God whom all men and women seek in their own depths, and of whom, in a certain way, they all have some knowledge. But this God gave himself a Name. He made himself known to us, he initiated a history with human beings; he chose a man Abraham as the starting point of this history. The infinite God is at the same time the close God. He, who cannot be confined to any building, nevertheless wants to dwell among us, to be totally with us. 

If Jesus, with the pilgrim Israel, goes up to Jerusalem, he goes there to celebrate with Israel the Passover: the memorial of Israel's liberation a memorial which, at the same time, is always a hope of definitive freedom, which God will give. And Jesus approaches this feast in the awareness that he himself is the Lamb in which will be accomplished what the Book of Exodus says in this regard: a lamb without blemish, a male, who at sunset, before the eyes of the children of Israel, is sacrificed "as an ordinance for ever" (cf. Ex 12: 5-6, 14). And lastly, Jesus knows that his way goes further: the Cross will not be his end. He knows that his journey will rend the veil between this world and God's world; that he will ascend to the throne of God and reconcile God and man in his Body He knows that his Risen Body will be the new sacrifice and the new Temple; that around him, from the hosts of Angels and Saints the new Jerusalem will be formed, that is in Heaven and yet also on the earth, because by his Passion he was to open the frontier between Heaven and earth. His way leads beyond the summit of the Mountain of the Temple to the heights of God himself: this is the great ascent to which he calls us all. He always remains with us on earth and he has always already arrived with God. He guides us on earth and beyond the earth. 

Thus, the dimensions of our sequela become visible in the ascent of Jesus the goal to which he wants to lead us: to the heights of God, to communion with God, to being-with-God. This is the true destination and communion with him is the way to it. Communion with Christ is being on the way, a permanent ascent toward the true heights of our call. Journeying on together with Jesus is at the same time also a journeying on in the "we" of those who want to follow him. It introduces us into this community. Since the way to true life, to being people in conformity with the model of the Son of God Jesus Christ, surpasses our own strength, this journey always means being carried. We find ourselves, so to speak, roped to Jesus Christ together with him on the ascent towards God's heights. He pulls and supports us. It is part of following Christ that we allow ourselves to be roped together; that we acknowledge we cannot do it alone. This act of humility, entering into the "we" of the Church is part of it; holding tight to the rope, the responsibility of communion not breaking the rope through stubbornness or self-importance. Humbly believing, with the Church, like being a roped-party on the ascent towards God, is an essential condition for the following of Christ. This being roped together also entails not behaving as masters of the Word of God, not running after a mistaken idea of emancipation. The humility of "being with" is essential for the ascent. The fact that in the Sacraments we always let the Lord once again take us by the hand is also part of it; that we let ourselves be purified and strengthened by him; that we accept the discipline of the ascent, even when we are weary.

[Pope Benedict, Palm Sunday homily 28 March 2010]

5. One of the parables narrated by Jesus on the growth of the kingdom of God on earth makes us discover very realistically the character of struggle that the kingdom entails, due to the presence and action of an "enemy", who "sows tares (or weeds) in the midst of the wheat". Jesus says that when "the harvest flourished and bore fruit, behold, the weeds also appeared". The servants of the master of the field would like to pluck it out, but the master does not allow them to do so, "lest it happen that . uproot the wheat also. Let the one and the other grow together until the harvest, and at the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, 'Catch the darnel first and bind it in bundles to burn it; but the wheat you shall put in my barn' (Mt 13:29-30). This parable explains the coexistence and often the intertwining of good and evil in the world, in our lives, in the very history of the Church. Jesus teaches us to see things with Christian realism and to treat every problem with clarity of principles, but also with prudence and patience. This presupposes a transcendent vision of history, in which we know that everything belongs to God and every final outcome is the work of his Providence. However, the final fate - with an eschatological dimension - of the good and the bad is not hidden: it is symbolised by the harvesting of the wheat in the storehouse and the burning of the tares.

[Pope John Paul II, The Growth of the Kingdom,

http://www.clerus.org/clerus/dati/2000-06/14-2/GP9127.html]

Today God continues to weep - with fatherly and motherly tears - before calamities, wars unleashed to worship the god of money, so many innocents killed by bombs, a humanity that does not seem to want peace. It is a strong invitation to conversion that Francis re-launched in the Mass celebrated on Thursday morning, 27 October, in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta. An invitation that the Pontiff motivated by recalling that God became man precisely to weep with and for his children.

In the passage from Luke's Gospel (13:31-35) proposed by the liturgy, the Pope explained, "it seems that Jesus had lost his patience and also uses strong words: it is not an insult but it is not a compliment to say 'fox' to a person". To be precise he says to the Pharisees who told him about Herod: "Go and tell that fox". But already "on other occasions Jesus spoke harshly": for example, he said "perverse and adulterous generation". And he called the disciples 'hard-hearted' and 'foolish'. Luke reports the words in which Jesus makes a real 'summary of what is to come: "it is necessary for me to go on my way because it is not possible for a prophet to die outside Jerusalem"'. Basically, the Lord "says what will happen, he prepares to die".

But "then immediately Jesus changes tones," Francis pointed out. "After this loud outburst," in fact, "he changes his tone and looks at his people, he looks at the city of Jerusalem: 'Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those who were sent to you!'" He looks at "the closed Jerusalem, which has not always received the messengers of the Father". And "Jesus' heart begins to speak with tenderness: 'Jerusalem, how often have I wanted to gather your children like a hen her chicks!'". Here is "the tenderness of God, the tenderness of Jesus". That day he "wept over Jerusalem". But "that weeping of Jesus," the Pope explained, "is not the weeping of a friend before the tomb of Lazarus. That is the weeping of a friend before the death of another"; instead "this is the weeping of a father who weeps, it is God the Father who weeps here in the person of Jesus".

"Someone said that God became man so that he could weep for what his children had done," said the Pontiff. And so "the weeping before the tomb of Lazarus is the weeping of a friend". But what Luke recounts 'is the weeping of the Father'. In this regard, Francis also recalled the attitude of the 'father of the prodigal son, when his youngest son asked him for the inheritance money and went away'. And "that father is sure, he did not go to his neighbours and say: 'look what happened to me, but this poor wretch what he did to me, I curse this son! No, he did not do this'. Instead, said the Pope, "I am sure" that that father "went off crying alone".

True, the Gospel does not reveal this detail,' Francis continued, 'but it tells us that when the son returned he saw the father from afar: this means that the father continually went up to the terrace to watch the path to see if the son was coming back'. And 'a father who does this is a father who lives in weeping, waiting for his son to return'. Precisely this is "the weeping of God the Father; and with this weeping the Father recreates in his Son all creation".

"When Jesus went with the cross to Calvary," the Pontiff recalled, "the pious women wept and he said to them: 'No, do not weep over me, weep for your children'". It is the "weeping of a father and mother that God continues to do even today: even today in the face of calamities, of the wars that are waged to worship the god money, of so many innocents killed by the bombs that the worshippers of the idol money throw down". And so 'even today the Father weeps, even today he says: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, my children, what are you doing?"'. And "he says this to the poor victims and also to the arms dealers and to all those who sell people's lives".

In conclusion Francis suggested that we "think that God became man in order to weep. And it will be good for us to think that our Father God weeps today: he weeps for this humanity that does not understand the peace he offers us, the peace of love".

[Pope Francis, homily at St Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano 28/10/2016]

Narrow door: not because oppressive

(Lk 13:22-30)

The meaning of the first question is: «Is Salvation exclusive?» (v.23). Of course not - and not even despotic. But it’s not enough to declare oneself "Friends".

Half a century after the crucifixion of Jesus, the first signs of relaxation began to appear in the communities.

The privileged were already away from “home” [vv.25ss].

Their story warns against the illusion of feeling "elected". And it questions believers. How can we get on ourselves on the right path?

Occasion to understand if we are on the steps that really belong to us is the constant revision of the relationship with the "inadequate" Person of Christ [the «narrow Door»: v.24].

According to the Master, one doesn’t become "better" by following ostentatious habitual clichés, poorly convinced and fulfilled in routine.

In short, who works many things for God (v.26) and not for the brothers - nor even realizes that they exist - in reality does not honor the Father.

Those who do not "deflate", not only lack humility to become servants, but also do not cross the interstices of the walls in which the Spirit wedges.

However, we still wonder surprised how the Father can neglect his own intimates who have so much believed in Him, and even prefer those distant, coming from it’s not well known where.

Maybe they loved like Him. They didn’t have a "correct" relationship with God, but a right relationship with others, yes.

It’s in their hearts that they have come to know the Lord. Personally. And by transmigrating, they have accomplished their Exodus.

Moving directly to the goal, they were interested in the fruit: listening, compassion, generous sharing of goods - instead of the many leaves.

With the eyes of the soul, in these people completely devoid of spiritual presumption, the perception of the inner orientations has overcome the thoughts and the idols of the custom at hand.

They are those who have never considered themselves too great.

It applies for us: not feeling excellent and not having pretensions is by Christ evaluated much more than the papers in order.

He defines these as «makeers of vain things, doers of dead things» [Lk 13,27; the Greek text has a Semitic background of the kind: Ps 6,9 Hebrew text].

He refers to the ‘lukewarm’ people that go on by inertia and still participate in external manifestations with extreme superficiality.

They make number, but personally they do not set anything in motion. They didn’t pass through the «tight Door» which is Jesus himself.

Forcing him to say: «I do not know ‘from’ where you are» (vv.25-27).

True disciples participate in the Banquet without pretense: they have not fled the world, they have struggled (v. 24) to make themselves able to love. They have compromised themselves.

In this way were able to meet the deep states of themselves and accompany the eccentricities of others, recovering the opposites (v.30).

«Narrow Door»: not because oppressive.

[Wednesday 30th wk. in O.T.  October 30, 2024]