(Lk 8:1-3)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The prevalence or balance of the feminine aspect is an opportune counterbalance to a 'Christian' world... in the West unbalanced on the masculine: prone to dirigisme and the exercise of the will rather than the cultivation of childlike feeling.

Happy that vocation that is accompanied by intensity, depth, delicacy, the ability to wait and at the same time coherence to principles (never sold out to the highest bidder) and participation in destiny - typical aspects of feminine sensitivity and the world of consecrated women.

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

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

Unfortunately, later ecclesiastical convention failed to give weight to the unquestionable fact of women's discipleship, flattening out to male discipleship - a disvalue that we are beginning to pay for in an obvious way (but it is a grace: nothing would move otherwise).

In Lk, the women's story expresses the action of the Risen One.

He accepts them as followers and disciples. In the female figures we read in watermark the story of humanity that in Christ rises up and assumes dignity - instead of being further harassed.

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

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

It is fraternity, i.e. concrete solidarity; a model of dedication and self-giving, instead of calculation and cunning (ways of subterfuge; contrived, deliberate).

Women ready for life. Type of the Announcement: Treasure unleashing the Spirit that conversely males want to cunningly keep for themselves - to master it, making it one-sided.

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

They remain on the surface, thus blocking the expressions of life.

The magic of the feminine, on the other hand, knows how to welcome the individual and listen to events, always being in the field to realise what characterises us.

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

They do not fear losing 'position'.

To internalise and live the message:

Would you rather be spiritually accompanied by a woman or a man? Why?Does pastoral work that is languishing, in your opinion, have anything to do with unilateral chains of command, in which you fear losing 'position'?

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today, we have come to the end of our journey among the witnesses of early Christianity mentioned in the New Testament writings. And we use the last step of this first journey to dedicate our attention to the many female figures who played an effective and precious role in spreading the Gospel.

In conformity with what Jesus himself said of the woman who anointed his head shortly before the Passion: "Truly, I say to you, wherever this Gospel is preached in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her" (Mt 26: 13; Mk 14: 9), their testimony cannot be forgotten.

The Lord wants these Gospel witnesses, these figures who have made a contribution so that faith in him would grow, to be known, and their memory kept alive in the Church. We can historically distinguish the role of the first women in early Christianity, during Jesus' earthly life and in the events of the first Christian generation.

Jesus, as we know, certainly chose from among his disciples 12 men as Fathers of the new Israel and appointed them "to be with him, and to be sent out to preach" (Mk 3: 14-15).

This fact is obvious; but, in addition to the Twelve, pillars of the Church and fathers of the new People of God, many women were also chosen to number among the disciples. I can only mention very briefly those who followed Jesus himself, beginning with the Prophetess Anna (cf. Lk 2: 36-38), to the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4: 1-39), the Syro-Phoenician woman (cf. Mk 7: 24-30), the woman with the haemorrhage (cf. Mt 9: 20-22) and the sinful woman whose sins were forgiven (cf. Lk 7: 36-50).

I will not even refer to the protagonists of some of his effective parables, for example, the housewife who made bread (cf. Mt 13: 33), the woman who lost the drachma (cf. Lk 15: 8-10), the widow who pestered the judge (cf. Lk 18: 1-8). More important for our topic are the women who played an active role in the context of Jesus' mission.

In the first place, we think spontaneously of the Virgin Mary, who with her faith and maternal labours collaborated in a unique way in our Redemption to the point that Elizabeth proclaimed her "Blessed... among women" (Lk 1: 42), adding: "Blessed is she who believed..." (Lk 1: 45).

Having become a disciple of her Son, Mary manifested total trust in him at Cana (cf. Jn 2: 5), and followed him to the foot of the Cross where she received from him a maternal mission for all his disciples of all times, represented by John (cf. Jn 19: 25-27).

Then there are various women with roles of responsibility who gravitated in their different capacities around the figure of Jesus. The women who followed Jesus to assist him with their own means, some of whose names Luke has passed down to us, are an eloquent example: Mary of Magdala, Joanna, Susanna and "many others" (cf. Lk 8: 2-3).

The Gospels then tell us that the women, unlike the Twelve, did not abandon Jesus in the hour of his Passion (cf. Mt 27: 56, 61; Mk 15: 40). Among them, Mary Magdalene stands out in particular. Not only was she present at the Passion, but she was also the first witness and herald of the Risen One (cf. Jn 20: 1, 11-18).

It was precisely to Mary Magdalene that St Thomas Aquinas reserved the special title, "Apostle of the Apostles" (apostolorum apostola), dedicating to her this beautiful comment: "Just as a woman had announced the words of death to the first man, so also a woman was the first to announce to the Apostles the words of life" (Super Ioannem, ed. Cai, 2519).

Nor was the female presence in the sphere of the primitive Church in any way secondary. We will not insist on the four unnamed daughters of Philip the "Deacon" who lived at Caesarea; they were all endowed with the "gift of prophecy", as St Luke tells us, that is, the faculty of intervening publicly under the action of the Holy Spirit (cf. Acts 21: 9). The brevity of information does not permit more precise deductions.

It is rather to St Paul that we are indebted for a more ample documentation on the dignity and ecclesial role of women. He begins with the fundamental principle according to which for the baptized: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3: 28), that is, all are united in the same basic dignity, although each with specific functions (cf. I Cor 12: 27: 30).

The Apostle accepts as normal the fact that a woman can "prophesy" in the Christian community (I Cor 11: 5), that is, speak openly under the influence of the Spirit, as long as it is for the edification of the community and done in a dignified manner.

Thus, the following well-known exhortation: "Women should keep silence in the Churches" (I Cor 14: 34) is instead to be considered relative. Let us leave to the exegetes the consequent, much discussed problem of the relationship between the first phrase - women can prophesy in Churches - and the other - they are not permitted to speak; that is, the relationship between these two apparently contradictory instructions. This is not for discussion here.

Last Wednesday we already came across the figure of Prisca or Priscilla, Aquila's wife, who surprisingly is mentioned before her husband in two cases (cf. Acts 18: 18; Rom 16: 3): In any case, both are explicitly described by Paul as his sun-ergoús, "collaborators" (Rom 16: 3).

There are several other important points that cannot be ignored. It should be noted, for example, that Paul's short Letter to Philemon is actually also addressed to a woman called "Apphia" (cf. Phlm 2). The Latin and Syriac translations of the Greek text add to this name "Apphia", the appellative "soror carissima" (ibid.), and it must be said that she must have held an important position in the community at Colossae. In any case, she is the only woman mentioned by Paul among those to whom he addressed a Letter.

Elsewhere, the Apostle mentions a certain "Phoebe", described as "a deaconess of the Church at Cenchreae", the port town east of Corinth (Rom 16: 1-2). Although at that time the title had not yet acquired a specific ministerial value of a hierarchical kind, it expresses a true and proper exercise of responsibility on the part of this woman for this Christian community. Paul recommends that she be received cordially and assisted "in whatever she may require". Then he adds: "for she has been a helper of many and of myself as well".

In the same epistolary context the Apostle outlines with delicate touches the names of other women: a certain Mary, then Tryphaena, Tryphosa and "the beloved" Persis, as well as Julia, of whom he writes openly that they have "worked hard among you" or "worked hard in the Lord" (Rom 16: 6, 12a, 12b, 15), thereby emphasizing their strong ecclesial commitment.

Furthermore, in the Church at Philippi two women were to distinguish themselves, Euodia and Syntyche (cf. Phil 4: 2). Paul's entreaty to mutual agreement suggests that these two women played an important role in that community.

In short, without the generous contribution of many women, the history of Christianity would have developed very differently.

This is why, as my venerable and dear Predecessor John Paul II wrote in his Apostolic Letter Mulieris Dignitatem: "The Church gives thanks for each and every woman.... The Church gives thanks for all the manifestations of the feminine "genius' which have appeared in the course of history, in the midst of all peoples and nations; she gives thanks for all the charisms which the Holy Spirit distributes to women in the history of the People of God, for all the victories which she owes to their faith, hope and charity: she gives thanks for all the fruits of feminine holiness" (n. 31).

As we can see, the praise refers to women in the course of the Church's history and was expressed on behalf of the entire Ecclesial Community. Let us also join in this appreciation, thanking the Lord because he leads his Church, generation after generation, availing himself equally of men and women who are able to make their faith and Baptism fruitful for the good of the entire Ecclesial Body and for the greater glory of God.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 14 February 2007]

13. As we scan the pages of the Gospel, many women, of different ages and conditions, pass before our eyes. We meet women with illnesses or physical sufferings, such as the one who had "a spirit of infirmity for eighteen years; she was bent over and could not fully straighten herself" (Lk 13:11); or Simon's mother-in-law, who "lay sick with a fever" (Mk 1:30); or the woman "who had a flow of blood" (cf. Mk 5:25-34), who could not touch anyone because it was believed that her touch would make a person "impure". Each of them was healed, and the last-mentioned - the one with a flow of blood, who touched Jesus' garment "in the crowd" (Mk 5:27) - was praised by him for her great faith: "Your faith has made you well" (Mk 5:34). Then there is the daughter of Jairus, whom Jesus brings back to life, saying to her tenderly: "Little girl, I say to you, arise" (Mk 5:41). There also is the widow of Nain, whose only son Jesus brings back to life, accompanying his action by an expression of affectionate mercy: "He had compassion on her and said to her, 'Do not weep!'"(Lk 7:13). And finally there is the Canaanite woman, whom Christ extols for her faith, her humility and for that greatness of spirit of which only a mother's heart is capable. "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire" (Mt 15:28). The Canaanite woman was asking for the healing of her daughter.

Sometimes the women whom Jesus met and who received so many graces from him, also accompanied him as he journeyed with the Apostles through the towns and villages, proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom of God; and they "provided for them out of their means". The Gospel names Joanna, who was the wife of Herod's steward, Susanna and "many others" (cf. Lk 8:1-3).

Sometimes women appear in the parables which Jesus of Nazareth used to illustrate for his listeners the truth about the Kingdom of God. This is the case in the parables of the lost coin (cf. Lk 15: 8-10), the leaven (cf. Mt 13:33), and the wise and foolish virgins (cf. Mt 25:1-13). Particularly eloquent is the story of the widow's mite. While "the rich were putting their gifts into the treasury... a poor widow put in two copper coins". Then Jesus said: "This poor widow has put in more than all of them... she out of her poverty put in all the living that she had" (Lk 21:1-4). In this way Jesus presents her as a model for everyone and defends her, for in the socio-juridical system of the time widows were totally defenceless people (cf. also Lk 18:1-7).

In all of Jesus' teaching, as well as in his behaviour, one can find nothing which reflects the discrimination against women prevalent in his day. On the contrary, his words and works always express the respect and honour due to women. The woman with a stoop is called a "daughter of Abraham" (Lk 13:16), while in the whole Bible the title "son of Abraham" is used only of men. Walking the Via Dolorosa to Golgotha, Jesus will say to the women: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me" (Lk 23:28). This way of speaking to and about women, as well as his manner of treating them, clearly constitutes an "innovation" with respect to the prevailing custom at that time.

This becomes even more explicit in regard to women whom popular opinion contemptuously labelled sinners, public sinners and adulteresses. There is the Samaritan woman, to whom Jesus himself says: "For you have had five husbands, and he whom you now have is not your husband". And she, realizing that he knows the secrets of her life, recognizes him as the Messiah and runs to tell her neighbours. The conversation leading up to this realization is one of the most beautiful in the Gospel (cf. Jn 4:7-27).

Then there is the public sinner who, in spite of her condemnation by common opinion, enters into the house of the Pharisee to anoint the feet of Jesus with perfumed oil. To his host, who is scandalized by this, he will say: "Her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much" (cf. Lk 7:37-47).

Finally, there is a situation which is perhaps the most eloquent: a woman caught in adulterv is brought to Jesus. To the leading question "In the law Moses commanded us to stone such. What do you say about her?", Jesus replies: "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her". The power of truth contained in this answer is so great that "they went away, one by one, beginning with the eldest". Only Jesus and the woman remain. "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?". "No one, Lord". "Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again" (cf. Jn 8:3-11).

These episodes provide a very clear picture. Christ is the one who "knows what is in man" (cf. Jn 2:25) - in man and woman. He knows the dignity of man, his worth in God's eyes. He himself, the Christ, is the definitive confirmation of this worth. Everything he says and does is definitively fulfilled in the Paschal Mystery of the Redemption. Jesus' attitude to the women whom he meets in the course of his Messianic service reflects the eternal plan of God, who, in creating each one of them, chooses her and loves her in Christ (cf. Eph 1:1-5). Each woman therefore is "the only creature on earth which God willed for its own sake". Each of them from the "beginning" inherits as a woman the dignity of personhood. Jesus of Nazareth confirms this dignity, recalls it, renews it, and makes it a part of the Gospel and of the Redemption for which he is sent into the world. Every word and gesture of Christ about women must therefore be brought into the dimension of the Paschal Mystery. In this way everything is completely explained.

[Pope John Paul II, Mulieris Dignitatem]

Today, 8 March, I would also like to say a few words about the irreplaceable contribution of women in building a world that can be a home for all. Women make the world beautiful, they protect it and keep it alive. They bring the grace of renewal, the embrace of inclusion, and the courage to give of oneself. Peace, then, is born of women, it arises and is rekindled by the tenderness of mothers. Thus the dream of peace becomes a reality when we look towards women. It is not by chance that in the account of Genesis the woman comes from the side of the man while he is sleeping (cf Gen 2:21). Women, that is, have their origins close to a heart and a dream. They therefore bring the dream of love into the world. If we take to heart the importance of the future, if we dream of a future peace, we need to give space to women.

[Pope Francis, speech of 8 March 2019]

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

(Lk 7:36-50)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On this floor, the Home master is immediately dizzy.

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

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

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

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

[Thursday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 18, 2025]

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

(Lk 7:36-50)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is the link between tears and forgiveness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Therefore, it becomes essential to take a genuine attitude, and get involved.Salvation is the fruit of moved personal immediacy, and even already obtained without works of law: not labour relations and hypocrisy [overtime against compensation] in aseptic environments, with aged, addicted and mouldy hearts.

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

To internalise and live the message:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pope John Paul II, homily 18 June 1995]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pope Francis, General Audience 20 April 2016]

Exaltation of the Holy Cross [Sunday, 14 September 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!  Contemplating the Mystery of the Cross, we discover the sweetness of a love that is born where life seems to die. As he dies crucified, Jesus reveals forever the definitive victory of Love and Mercy.

*First Reading from the Book of Numbers (21:4–9)

The Book of Exodus and the Book of Numbers recount similar episodes: when the people, freed from slavery in Egypt, walk towards the Promised Land, they must face daily life in the desert, a totally inhospitable place. As slaves in Egypt, they were sedentary, certainly not accustomed to long marches on foot, but they had a master who fed them, so they did not die of hunger as they did in the desert, where they began to regret the famous onions of Egypt.  They were tempted by discouragement due to hunger, thirst and fear of all the inconveniences of the desert, and, disheartened, they began to murmur against God and Moses for leading them to die in the desert. The Lord then sent poisonous snakes against the people, and many Israelites died. At this point, the people repented, acknowledged their sin, and prayed to the Lord to remove the snakes. God commanded Moses to make a snake (tradition says of bronze) so that, when fixed on a pole, it could heal anyone who looked at it. It is interesting to consider how Moses reacted: he did not question whether or not the snakes came from God, but his aim was to lead this distrustful people to an attitude of trust, whatever the difficulties, because it was not so much the snakes as their lack of trust in God that was slowing down their journey to freedom. To educate them in the faith, he uses a familiar practice: the worship of a healing god represented by a bronze serpent on a pole (probably the ancestor of the caduceus, today's symbol of medicine). It was enough to look at the fetish to be healed. Moses does not destroy the tradition, but transforms it: Do as you always have done, but know that it is not the serpent that heals you but the Lord, and do not be confused because one God has freed you from Egypt, and by looking at the serpent, you are actually worshipping the God of the Covenant. Centuries later, the Book of Wisdom would comment: 'Those who turned to look at it were saved, not by the object they looked at, but by you, Saviour of all' (Wis 16:7). The struggle against idolatry, magic and divination runs through the entire biblical history and perhaps continues to this day. That bronze serpent, a sign to lead people to faith, came to be considered a magical object again, and for this reason King Hezekiah destroyed it definitively, as we read in the Book of Kings (2 Kings 18:4).

*Responsorial Psalm (77/78:3-4, 34-39)

In the responsorial psalm, taken from Psalm 77/78, we have a summary of the history of Israel, which unfolds in the relationship between God, who is always faithful, and that fickle people, who are forgetful but still aware of the importance of memory, so they repeat: 'We have heard what our fathers told us, we will repeat it to the next generation'. Faith is transmitted when those who have experienced salvation can say, 'God has saved me,' and in turn share their experience with others. It will then be up to their community to remember and preserve this testimony because faith is an experience of salvation shared over time. The Jewish people have always known that faith is not intellectual baggage, but the common experience of God's ever-renewed gift and forgiveness. This psalm expresses all this: in seventy-two verses, it recalls the experience of salvation that founded the faith of Israel, namely, liberation from Egypt, and for this reason, the psalm contains many allusions to the Exodus and Sinai. Listening in the biblical sense means adhering wholeheartedly to the Word of God, and if a generation neglects to continue to bear witness to its faithfulness to God, the chain of transmission of faith is broken. Often over the centuries, fathers have confessed to their children that they have murmured against God despite his acts of salvation. This is what the psalm speaks of and accuses the people of unfaithfulness and inconstancy: "They flattered him with their mouths, but murmured with their tongues; their hearts were not steadfast towards him, and they were not faithful to his covenant" (vv. 36-37). This is idolatry, the target of all prophets because it is the cause of humanity's misfortune. Every idol sets us back on the path to freedom, and the definition of an idol is precisely what prevents us from being free. Marx said that religion is the opium of the people, revealing in a crude way the power and manipulation that any religion, whatever it may be, can exert over humanity. Superstition, fetishism and witchcraft prevent us from being free and learning to freely assume our responsibilities, because they make us live in a regime of fear. Every idolatrous cult distances us from the living and true God: only the truth can make us free men. Even the excessive worship of a person or an ideology makes us slaves: just think of all the fundamentalisms and fanaticisms that disfigure us, and money too can very well become an idol. In other verses that are not part of this Sunday's liturgy, the psalm offers a very eloquent image, that of a deformed bow: the heart of Israel should be like a bow stretched towards its God, but it is crooked. And it is precisely within this ingratitude that Israel had its most beautiful experience: that of God's forgiveness, as the psalm clearly states: "Their heart was not steadfast toward him; they were not faithful to his covenant. But he, being merciful, forgave  their iniquity instead of destroying them" (v. 38). This description of  God's tender mercy shows that the psalm was written at a time when the revelation of the God of love had already deeply penetrated the faith of Israel. 

NOTE The great assembly at Shechem organised by Joshua had precisely this purpose: to revive the memory of this people who were the object of so much concern, but so often inclined to forget (Joshua 24: see the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time B): after reminding the assembled tribes of all God's works since Abraham, he said to them: "Choose today whom you will serve: either the Lord or an idol." And the tribes made the right choice that day, even if they would soon forget it. The transmission of faith is therefore like a relay race: "I have passed on to you what I myself have received," Paul says to the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:23), and the liturgy is the privileged place for this witness and for this reviving of memory in the sense of gratitude that comes from experience.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (2:6-1)

This passage from Paul is read every year on Palm Sunday and now on the Feast of the Glorious Cross: this means that the two celebrations have something in common, which is the close link between Christ's suffering and his glory, between the lowering of the cross and the exaltation of the resurrection. Paul says it clearly: 'Christ humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross... Therefore God exalted him above all else' (vv. 8-9). The expression 'therefore' indicates a strong link and contrast between humiliation and exaltation, but we must not read these sentences in terms of reward, as if Jesus, having behaved admirably, received an admirable reward. This could be the 'tendency' or rather the 'temptation', but God is love and knows no calculations, exchanges, or quid pro quo, because love is free. The wonder of God's love is that it does not wait for our merits to fill us, and in the Bible, men discovered this little by little because grace, as its name indicates, is free. So, if, as Paul says, Jesus suffered and was then glorified, it is not because his suffering had accumulated enough merit to earn him the right to be rewarded. Therefore, to be faithful to the text, we must read it in terms of gratuitousness. For Paul, it is clear that God's gift is free, and this is evident in all his letters, having experienced it himself. When we read, 'Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited' (v. 6), it is clear that Paul is alluding to Adam and Eve, and here Paul probably offers us a commentary on the story of the Garden of Eden: the tempter had said, 'You will be like God', and to become like God, all they had to do was disobey God. Eve reached out her hand towards the forbidden fruit and took it (the Greek labousa in theological reading is 'claimed to be like God' as if it were her right). Paul contrasts the attitude of Adam/Eve (grabbing/avenging) with that of Christ (welcoming freely, obeying). Jesus Christ was only acceptance (what Paul calls 'obedience'), and precisely because he was pure acceptance of God's gift and not vindication, he was able to let himself be filled by the Father, completely available to his gift. Jesus' choice is 'kenosis', the total emptying of himself marked by five verbs of humiliation: emptying himself, taking on the condition of a servant, becoming like men, humbling himself, becoming obedient. The cross is the abyss of annihilation (vv. 6-8), but also the climax of the second sentence of the hymn (vv. 9-11). 'God exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name' (v. 9). Jesus receives the Name that is above every name: the name 'Lord' is the name of God! To say that Jesus is Lord is to say that he is God: in the Old Testament, the title of Lord was reserved for God, as was genuflection. When Paul says, "For at the name of Jesus every knee should bend," he is alluding to a phrase from the prophet Isaiah: "Before me every knee shall bend, and every tongue shall swear allegiance" (Isaiah 45:23). The hymn concludes with 'every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father' (v. 11): seeing Christ bring love to its culmination, accepting to die to reveal the extent of God's love, we can say like the centurion: 'Truly this man was the Son of God'... because God is love.

*From the Gospel according to John (3:13-17)

The first surprise in this text is that Jesus speaks of the cross in positive, even 'glorious' terms: on the one hand, he uses the term 'lifted up' – 'the Son of Man must be lifted up' (v. 14) – and then this cross, which in our eyes is an instrument of torture and pain, is presented as proof of God's love: 'God so loved the world' (v. 17). How can the instrument of torture of an innocent person be glorious? And here lies the second surprise: the reference to the bronze serpent. Jesus uses this image because it was well known at the time. The first reading speaks at length about this event in the Sinai desert during the Exodus, following Moses. The Jews were attacked by poisonous snakes and, having a guilty conscience because they had murmured, they were convinced that this was a punishment from the God of Moses. They begged Moses to intercede, and Moses was commanded to fix a fiery (i.e., poisonous) serpent on a pole: whoever had been bitten and looked at it would live (Num 21:7-9). At first glance, it seems like pure magic, but in reality, it is exactly the opposite. Moses transforms what was until then a magical act into an act of faith. Jesus refers to this episode when speaking of himself: 'Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life' (vv. 14-15). If in the desert it was enough to look with faith towards the God of the Covenant to be physically healed, now it is necessary to look with faith at Christ on the cross to obtain inner healing. As is often the case in John's Gospel, the theme of faith returns: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" (v. 17).  When Jesus draws a parallel between the bronze serpent raised up in the desert and his own elevation on the cross, he also reveals the extraordinary leap that exists between the Old and New Testaments. Jesus brings everything to fulfilment, but in him everything takes on a new dimension. In the desert, only the people of the Covenant were involved; now, in him, the whole of humanity is invited to believe in order to have life: twice Jesus repeats that "whoever believes in him will have eternal life". Moreover, it is no longer just a matter of external healing, but of the profound transformation of man. At the moment of the crucifixion, John writes: 'They will look upon him whom they have pierced' (Jn 19:37), quoting the prophet Zechariah who had written: "On that day I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication; they will look upon me, the one they have pierced" (Zechariah 12:10). This "spirit of grace and supplication" is the opposite of the murmuring in the desert: man is now finally convinced of God's love for him.  There are therefore two ways of looking at the cross of Christ: as a sign of human hatred and cruelty, but above all as the emblem of the meekness and forgiveness of Christ, who accepts the cross to show us the extent of God's love for humanity. The cross is the very place where God's love is revealed: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9), Jesus said to Philip. Christ crucified shows God's tenderness, despite the hatred of men. That is why we can say that the cross is glorious: because it is the place where perfect love is manifested, that is, God himself, a God great enough to make himself small in order to share the life of men despite misunderstanding and hatred: he does not flee from his executioners and forgives from the height of the Cross. Those who accept to fall to their knees before such greatness are transformed forever: "But to all who did receive him, he gave them the right to become children of God, to those who believe in his name" (Jn 1:12).

+ Giovanni D'Ercole