The word of God presents us today with two essential aspects of the Christian life: faith and service. With regard to faith, two specific requests are made to the Lord. 

The first is made by the Prophet Habakkuk, who implores God to intervene in order to re-establish the justice and peace which men have shattered by violence, quarrels and disputes: “O Lord, how long”, he says, “shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?” (Hab 1:2). God, in response, does not intervene directly, does not resolve the situation in an abrupt way, does not make himself present by a show of force. Rather, he invites patient waiting, without ever losing hope; above all, he emphasizes the importance of faith, since it is by faith that man will live (cf. Hab 2:4). God treats us in the same way: he does not indulge our desire to immediately and repeatedly change the world and other people. Instead, he intends primarily to heal the heart, my heart, your heart, and the heart of each person; God changes the world by transforming our hearts, and this he cannot do without us. The Lord wants us to open the door of our hearts, in order to enter into our lives. And this act of opening to him, this trust in him is precisely “the victory that overcomes the world, our faith” (1 Jn 5:4). For when God finds an open and trusting heart, then he can work wonders there. 

But to have faith, a lively faith, is not easy; and so we pass to the second request, which the Apostles bring to the Lord in the Gospel: “Increase our faith!” (Lk 17:6). It is a good question, a prayer which we too can direct to the Lord each day. But the divine response is surprising and here too turns the question around: “If you had faith…”. It is the Lord who asks us to have faith. Because faith, which is always God’s gift and always to be asked for, must be nurtured by us. It is no magic power which comes down from heaven, it is not a “talent” which is given once and for all, not a special force for solving life’s problems. A faith useful for satisfying our needs would be a selfish one, centred entirely on ourselves. Faith must not be confused with well-being or feeling well, with having consolation in our heart that gives us inner peace. Faith is the golden thread which binds us to the Lord, the pure joy of being with him, united to him; it is a gift that lasts our whole life, but bears fruit only if we play our part. 

And what is our part? Jesus helps us understand that it consists of service. In the Gospel, immediately following his words on the power of faith, Jesus speaks of service. Faith and service cannot be separated; on the contrary, they are intimately linked, interwoven with each other. In order to explain this, I would like to take an image very familiar to you, that of a beautiful carpet. Your carpets are true works of art and have an ancient heritage. The Christian life that each of you has, also comes from afar. It is a gift we received in the Church which comes from the heart of God our Father, who wishes to make each of us a masterpiece of creation and of history. Every carpet, and you know this well, must be made according to a weft and a warp; only with this form can the carpet be harmoniously woven. So too in the Christian life: every day it must be woven patiently, intertwining a precise weft and warp: the weft of faith and the warp of service. When faith is interwoven with service, the heart remains open and youthful, and it expands in the process of doing good. Thus faith, as Jesus tells us in the Gospel, becomes powerful and accomplishes marvellous deeds. If faith follows this path, it matures and grows in strength, but only when it is joined to service. 

But what is service? We might think that it consists only in being faithful to our duties or carrying out some good action. Yet for Jesus it is much more. In today’s Gospel, and in very firm and radical terms, he asks us for complete availability, a life offered in complete openness, free of calculation and gain. Why is Jesus so exacting? Because he loved us in this way, making himself our servant “to the end” (Jn 13:1), coming “to serve, and to give his life” (Mk10:45). And this takes place again every time we celebrate the Eucharist: the Lord comes among us, and as much as we intend to serve him and love him, it is always he who precedes us, serving us and loving us more than we can imagine or deserve. He gives us his very own life. He invites us to imitate him, saying: “If anyone serves me, he must follow me” (Jn 12:26).

And so, we are not called to serve merely in order to receive a reward, but rather to imitate God, who made himself a servant for our love. Nor are we called to serve only now and again, but to live in serving. Service is thus a way of life; indeed it recapitulates the entire Christian way of life: serving God in adoration and prayer; being open and available; loving our neighbour with practical deeds; passionately working for the common good. 

For Christians too, there are no shortage of temptations which lead us away from the path of service and end up by rendering life useless. Where there is no service, life is useless. Here too we can identify two forms. One is that of allowing our hearts to grow lukewarm. A lukewarm heart becomes self-absorbed in lazy living and it stifles the fire of love. The lukewarm person lives to satisfy his or her own convenience, which is never enough, and in that way is never satisfied; gradually such a Christian ends up being content with a mediocre life. The lukewarm person allocates to God and others a “percentage” of their time and their own heart, never spending too much, but rather always trying to economize. And so, he or she can lose the zest for life: rather like a cup of truly fine tea, which is unbearable to taste when it gets cold. I am sure, however, that when you look to the example of those who have gone before you in faith, you will not let your hearts become lukewarm. The whole Church, in showing you special affection, looks to you and offers you encouragement: you are a little flock that is so precious in God’s eyes. 

There is a second temptation, which we can fall into not so much because we are passive, but because we are “overactive”: the one of thinking like masters, of giving oneself only in order to gain something or become someone. In such cases service becomes a means and not an end, because the end has become prestige; and then comes power, the desire to be great. “It shall not be so among you”, Jesus reminds all of us, “but whoever would be great among you must be your servant” (Mt 20:26). This is the way the Church grows and is adorned. Returning to our image of the carpet, and applying it to your fine community: each of you is like a magnificent silk thread. Only if you are woven together, however, will the different threads form a beautiful composition; on their own, they are of no use. Stay united always, living humbly in charity and joy; the Lord, who creates harmony from differences, will protect you. 

May we be aided by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary and by the saints, especially Saint Teresa of Calcutta, the fruits of whose faith and service are in your midst. Let us recall some of her noble words to summarize today’s message: “The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. The fruit of service is peace” (A Simple Path, Introduction).

[Pope Francis, homily Baku 2 October 2016]

Free eccentric, forward: Sacrament of humanity as such

(Lk 17:1-6)

The knowledge of God is not an acquired science: it moves from one action and another, unceasingly; it’s realized in an ever-living Encounter, which neither blocks nor dissolves us.

Typical, the experience of the «little ones» [mikròi v.2]. Since the earliest communities of faith, they have been those who lacked security and energy; unstables and without support.

«Small» have always been the incipients; the new ones, who have heard of Christian fraternity, and are sometimes forced to stand in line, aside, or give up the way.

But the criterion of acceptance, tolerance, communion of material goods, was the first and main catalyst of the growth of assemblies.

Even the source and meaning of all the formulas and signs of the liturgy.

The existential and ideal center towards wich to converge. For a proactive and in itself transformative Faith.

In the Spirit of the Master, even for us the reconciliation of friction is not configured as a simple work of magnanimity.

It’s the beginning of the future world. Principle of an unpredictable and unspeakable adventure; of rebirth.

Novelty of God that creates an environment of Grace, propulsive, with enormous possibilities.

Force that breaks in and paradoxically lets the dark poles meet, instead of shaking them off. By genuinely eliminating comparisons, useless words and ballasts, which block the transparent Exodus.

Thus (without too much struggle) it renews us, and curbs the loss of veracity. It emphasizes capacities and horizons of Peace; it crumbles primates, the marshy balances.

The discovery of new sides of being that we are, conveys a sense of better completeness. So it spontaneously stems external influences, dissolves prejudices, doesn’t act on an emotional, impulsive basis.

Rather, it places us in the position that enables to reveal the hidden and stunning sense of being. Unfolding the crucial horizon.

Laying down our judgements, the art of tolerance broadens the gaze [even intimate]. It improves and enhances the dull sides; those that we ourselves detested.

In eccentric way it transforms the considered distant or mediocre [mikroi] in outriders, and ingenious inventors. Because what was unthinkable yesterday, tomorrow will be of clarification and towing.

Confusions will acquire a sense - precisely thanks to the thought of the despised, intruders, out of every consortium and predictability.

Life of pure Faith in the Spirit: the fantasy of the "weak"... in power.

Because it’s the paradoxical mechanism that makes us evaluate the crossroads of history, activates passions, creates sharing, solves the real problems.

It makes reality fly towards itself.

The "victory-or-defeat" alternative is false: it’s necessary to get out of it. It’s in such ‘emptiness’ and Silence that God makes his way.

Mystery of Presence, which overflows. New Alliance.

[Monday 32nd wk. in O.T.  November 11, 2024]

Gratis eccentric, forward: Sacrament of humanity as such

(Lk 17:1-6)

The knowledge of God is not a confiscated commodity or an acquired and already plundered science: it moves from one action and another, unceasingly; it is realised in an ever-living Encounter, which does not block or dissolve us.

Typical, the experience of the "little ones" [mikròi v.2]. From the earliest communities of faith, they have been those who lacked security and energy; unstable and without support.

From time immemorial, "Little Ones" have been the incipients; the new ones, who have heard of Christian brotherhood, but are sometimes forced to stand in line, aside, or give up the journey.

But the criterion of welcome, tolerance, communion even of material goods, has been the first and main catalyst for the growth of the assemblies.

Even the origin and meaning of all the formulas and signs of the liturgy.

The existential and ideal centre to which to converge. For a proactive and in itself transformative Faith.

In the Spirit of the Master, even for us the conciliation of friction is not simply a work of magnanimity.

It is the beginning of the future world. The beginning of an unpredictable and unspeakable adventure. And we with it suddenly reborn: coming into frank contact in Christ. He who does not extinguish us at all.

Hence the Christian forgiveness of children, which is not... 'looking positive', and 'turning a blind eye': rather, Newness of God that creates an environment of Grace, propulsive, with enormous possibilities.

Force that breaks through and paradoxically lets the dark poles meet, instead of shaking them off. Genuinely eliminating useless comparisons, words and ballasts, which block the transparent Exodus.

Dynamics that guide one to the indispensable and unavoidable: waves to shift one's gaze. Teaching one to notice one's own hysterics, to know oneself, to face anxiety, its reason; to manage situations and moments of crisis.

Mouldable virtue that places one in intimate listening to the personal essence.

Hence, solid, broad empathy, which introduces new energies; it brings one's own deep states, even standard life, together... arousing other knowledge, different perspectives, unexpected relationships.

Thus without too much struggle it renews us, and curbs the loss of veracity [typical, that in favour of circumstantial manners]. It accentuates capacities and horizons of Peace - crumbling primates, swampy balances.

The discovery of new sides of the being that we are, conveys a sense of better wholeness, then spontaneously curbs external influences, dissolves prejudices, does not make one act on an emotional, impulsive basis.

Rather, it puts us in a position to reveal the hidden and astounding meaning of being. It unfolds the crucial horizon.

Activating 'Forgiveness' is gratuitously a surrender of one's character range, of all lost dignity, and far beyond.

By laying down sentences, the art of tolerance expands the [also intimate] gaze. It enhances and strengthens the dull sides; those we ourselves had detested.

In this eccentric way it transforms those considered distant or mediocre [mikroi] into outriders and brilliant inventors. For what was unthought of yesterday will be clarifying and driving tomorrow.

Confusions will make sense - precisely because of the thinking of the minds in crisis, and because of the action of the despised, intruders, outside of all spin and predictability.

Life of pure Faith in the Spirit: i.e., the imagination of the 'weak'... in power.

Because it is the paradoxical mechanism that makes the crossroads of history assess, activates passions, creates sharing, solves real problems.

And so it supplants difficult moments forwards (bringing us back to the true path) by orienting reality to the concrete good.

By making it fly towards itself.

The 'win-or-lose' alternative is false: we must get out of it. It is in such 'emptiness' and Silence that God makes His way.

Mystery of Presence, overflowing. New Covenant.

Increasing faith: a dull, intimidated life, or the door of hope

Perhaps we, too, have been inculcated with the idea that faith must be asked for, so God will increase it for us. Instead, we have a say, but not in the sense of a plea to Heaven.

Faith is a gift, but in the sense of a relational, face-to-face proposal and initiative; that asks for welcoming perception. Therefore, it does not grow by falling from a packet - as if by precipice, or by infusion from above. Even forcing it, and convincing the Father.

Nor is it a simple assent linked to good-naturedness. It is not a baggage of notions that some have and prove right; others less so, or not at all.

In falling in love one can be more or less involved!

Faith is not believing that God exists, but adhering to a springing suggestion that (without imposition) guides us to disregard reputation.

The person of Faith cares not for expense or risk, even for the lives of others. He holds particular customs in abeyance; he does not put circle affections first. Forgives without limit.Often we agree only in part and accept a little bit - perhaps until love goes all the way, or calls us into question.

Thus the head, the quirks, the concatenation of values, and the small world to which we are attached.

Increasing Faith? The Gift is not a gift, but an Appeal.

Therefore, Jesus does not even respond to such a ridiculous request - nevertheless, it makes one think about the results of possible adherence.

All it would take is the slightest involvement and there would be extraordinary results in the world (v.6); in community, in families and in personal life.

We would achieve the impossible and important. Real problems would be solved. Even the simplest actions would be transformed.

Then there are great events planted in every man's heart, which we perhaps consider unrealisable: e.g. universal brotherhood, victory over hunger, a dignified and beautiful life for all, a world and a Church without volatile, corrupt and vain characters.

Because we consider them impossible situations, we don't even begin to build them - we immediately drop our arms.

But maturation is the result of secret sides, not of impermeable mental armour.

As a Nobel Prize winner said: 'The innocent did not know that their project was impossible, so they realised it'.

And it is not that after a life spent in service - at the orders of the Principal - in the afterlife we will finally command, on the basis of the rank we have earned [although this too may have been passed on to us].

One of the wonders that Faith in Christ accomplishes in us - here and now - is to make us aware of the beauty and joy of having the freedom to come down from the pedestals we have already identified, in order to favour the full life (of all).

And at the 'end of the month' - at the 'reckoning' or the 'pay' - we will not finally become bosses - at least in heaven!

Because God is Communion, conviviality of differences; and He does not accept the servant-master scheme, even as a reward.

If man is not reconciled with God, he is also in conflict with creation. He is not reconciled with himself, he would like to be something other than what he is and consequently he is not reconciled with his neighbour either. Part of reconciliation is also the ability to acknowledge guilt and to ask forgiveness from God and from others. Lastly, part of the process of reconciliation is also the readiness to do penance, the willingness to suffer deeply for one's sin and to allow oneself to be transformed. Part of this is the gratuitousness of which the Encyclical Caritas in Veritate speaks repeatedly: the readiness to do more than what is necessary, not to tally costs, but to go beyond merely legal requirements. Part of this is the generosity which God himself has shown us. We think of Jesus' words: "If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5: 23ff.). God, knowing that we were unreconciled and seeing that we have something against him, rose up and came to meet us, even though he alone was in the right. He came to meet us even to the Cross, in order to reconcile us. This is what it means to give freely: a willingness to take the first step; to be the first to reach out to the other, to offer reconciliation, to accept the suffering entailed in giving up being in the right. To persevere in the desire for reconciliation: God gave us an example, and this is the way for us to become like him; it is an attitude constantly needed in our world. Today we must learn once more how to acknowledge guilt, we must shake off the illusion of being innocent. We must learn how to do penance, to let ourselves be transformed; to reach out to the other and to let God give us the courage and strength for this renewal. Today, in this world of ours, we need to rediscover the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation. The fact that it has largely disappeared from the daily life and habits of Christians is a symptom of a loss of truthfulness with regard both to ourselves and to God; a loss that endangers our humanity and diminishes our capacity for peace. Saint Bonaventure was of the opinion that the Sacrament of Penance was a sacrament of humanity as such, a sacrament that God had instituted in its essence immediately after original sin through the penance he imposed on Adam, even though it could only take on its full shape in Christ, who is the reconciling power of God in person and who took our penance upon himself. In fact, the unity of sin, repentance and forgiveness is one of the fundamental conditions for being truly human: these conditions find complete expression in the sacrament, yet in their deepest roots they are part of the experience of being human persons as such.

[Pope Benedict, to the Roman Curia 21 December 2009]

Dear brothers and sisters.

1. On this Sunday evening in Edmonton, the evening of the first day of the week when we Christians celebrate the Resurrection of the Lord, we come together in prayer in this beautiful Cathedral of Saint Joseph. We are gathered in the joy of our common Baptism, in the power of the word of God, and in the peace and love of Christ, whom we proclaim as the Light of the world and the supreme manifestation of God. I invite you all to reflect with me this evening on the mystery of the presence of God. 

As men and women of faith, we believe that God is present in his creation, that he is the Lord of history who directs the times and the seasons, that he is near to all who call upon him: the poor and the dejected, the sorrowing and the lonely, the weak and the oppressed. We believe that God breaks through the silence, and even the noise, of our daily lives, revealing to us his truth and his love. He wishes to dispel our fear and strengthen our hope in his saving mercy. 

God personally speaks to the heart of every individual, but he also acts through the community of people whom he predestines to be his own. We see this first in the history of the Jewish people. Through Abraham, our father in faith, through Isaac and Jacob, and in particular through Moses, God called a people to belong to him in a special way. He entered into a covenant with them, saying: "I will be their God and they shall be my people" (Ier. 31, 33). When his chosen ones sinned and went their own way, forgetting the God who saved them, God in his never-ending love intervened in their lives by means of the Prophets. He called the people to repentance and promised to establish with them a new and better covenant. This New Covenant he described in this way: "Deep within them I will plant my Law, writing it on their hearts... They will all know me, the least no less than the greatest, since I will forgive their iniquity and never call their sin to mind" (Ibid. 31, 33-34). 

And how did God establish this New Covenant? How did he write his law on the hearts of his chosen ones? With the Blood of Jesus, the Blood of the Lamb of God, the Blood of the New and Everlasting Covenant, our Saviour’s Blood, which is the price of our Redemption and the most eloquent expression possible of the love of God for the world. 

2. The presence of God is embodied in its fullness in Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God who became the Son of Mary and who shed his Blood for us on the Cross. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us, the Word made flesh, the revelation of the eternal Father. Before this great mystery of the presence of God, we stand in awe and reverence, and our hearts and voices long to break forth in songs and hymns of praise. And indeed this is most appropriate, for the first duty of a creature is to glorify the Creator, the first duty of a redeemed people is to praise their Lord and Saviour. That is why I am so pleased to join you tonight in this Evening Service of Praise. How good it is, as brothers and sisters in Christ, to join our voices in "psalms and hymns and inspired songs"! (Col. 3, 16)

Psalm 103, which we are praying together this evening, shows us a person whose whole being is filled with the praise of God: 

"My soul, give thanks to the Lord, / all my being, bless his holy name. / My soul, give thanks to the Lord / and never forget all his blessings" (Ps. 103, 1-2). 

"Never forget all his blessings": a heart filled with praise never forgets the many blessings of God. For the prayer of praise involves an act of remembering with gratitude, remembering all the ways that God has shown his saving love. And so the Psalmist declares: 

"It is he who forgives all your guilt, / who heals every one of your ills, / who redeems your life from the grave, / who crowns you with love and compassion, / who fills your life with good things, / renewing your youth like an eagle’s" (Ibid. 3-5). 

The prayer of praise proceeds from a humble awareness of our unworthiness and our total dependence on God, combined with a childlike trust in God’s abundant mercy. And so the Psalmist continues: 

"As a father has compassion on his sons, / the Lord has pity on those who fear him. / For he knows of what we are made, / he remembers that we are dust" (Ibid. 13-14). 

To praise the Lord is also to acclaim the many attributes of God, to extol the qualities of this great and holy God who has established a covenant with his people. Thus the Psalmist says: 

"The Lord is compassion and love, / slow to anger and rich in mercy... / His justice reaches out to children’s children / when they keep his covenant in truth" (Ibid. 8. 17-18). 

3. Living in the presence of God, Christians break forth in acclamation and praise, expressing gratitude for the gift of faith and for all the saving deeds of the Lord. But we must also turn to God with prayers of petition, seeking from the Lord shelter and safety from the forces of evil, forgiveness of our sins and healing of our wounded lives, strength to bear life’s burdens and grace to fulfil God’s will. Often the prayer of petition must be made with a sense of urgency and pleading. And so, the man in Psalm 141 cries out: 

"I have called to you, Lord; hasten to help me! / Hear my voice when I cry to you... / To you, Lord God, my eyes are turned: / in you I take refuge, spare my soul!" (Ps. 141, 1.8). 

The prayer of petition springs from a humble awareness of one’s great need for God’s grace, and from a deep trust in the powerful mercy of God. Thus, it is accompanied by an attitude of adoration. We kneel, at least in spirit, in the awesome presence of Almighty God, and the words that we utter are like those of the Psalmist who pleads: 

"Let my prayer arise before you like incense / the raising of my hands like an evening oblation" (Ibid. 2) 

4. Our Saviour promised us: "Where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them" (Matth. 18, 20). We know that this is true this evening as we Christians join together in common prayer. The presence of Christ fills this cathedral as we praise his name, and as we pray for that perfect unity among Christians which he wills for his followers. 

La prière authentique se prolonge en service généreux, c’est pourquoi nous n’oublions pas ce soir les besoins immenses de nos frères et sœurs qui souffrent à travers le monde. Fidèles à répondre au Seigneur, dont l’Esprit Saint a inspiré le mouvement œcuménique, non seulement nous prions ensemble et nous ouvrons un dialogue théologique entre nous, mais nous collaborons par un effort mené en commun pour promouvoir un monde où règnent davantage la justice et la paix. En nous aidant les uns les autres, nous cherchons à devenir “le sel de la terre” et “la lumière du monde” (Matth. 5, 11-16). De cette manière, nous proclamons ensemble la Bonne Nouvelle de la présence de Dieu dans le monde en la personne de Jésus-Christ, qui est un avec son Eglise. 

5. L’admirable prière que nous appelons le “Magnificat” et que nous disons ensemble ce soir, oriente nos esprits vers Dieu et vers sa présence salvifique dans l’histoire humaine. Elle attire aussi notre attention sur Marie, Mère de notre Sauveur. Cette femme, avec sa foi, reste aujourd’hui pour nous un modèle de sainteté de vie. D’une manière particulière, elle a fait l’expérience de la présence de Dieu dans sa vie quand elle est devenue la Mère de notre Rédempteur. Femme au cœur rempli de la louange de Dieu, elle célébra la grandeur de Dieu, en exaltant sa bonté pour les pauvres et les humbles, en proclamant sa miséricorde envers toutes les générations. Avec Marie, nous unissons nos voix pour louer “la grandeur du Seigneur” (Luc. 1, 46).  

We do this above all in union with Jesus Christ, who remains for ever the Light of the world, and who offers us the light of life (Io. 8, 12). Dearly beloved friends: let us receive this light from him and walk in this light, for the glory of his Father, who lives and reigns with the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, Edmonton 16 September 1984]

Stephen does not curse his persecutors but prays for them: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60). We are called to learn from him how to forgive, to always forgive, and it is not easy to do so, as we all know. Forgiveness expands the heart, creates sharing, gives serenity and peace. The Proto-martyr Stephen shows us the path to take with interpersonal relationships in the family, at school, in the workplace, in the parish and in the various communities. Always open to forgiveness. The logic of forgiveness and mercy is always successful and opens horizons of hope. But forgiveness is cultivated with prayer, which allows one to keep one’s gaze fixed on Jesus. Stephen was able to forgive his killers because, full of the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and opened his eyes to God (cf. Acts 7:55). He received from prayer the power to endure martyrdom. We must persevere in prayer to the Holy Spirit, that he pour out on us the gift of strength which heals our fears, our weaknesses, our pettiness, and expands our heart to forgive. Always to forgive! Let us invoke the intercession of Our Lady and of Saint Stephen: may their prayers help us always to entrust ourselves to God, especially in difficult times, and may they sustain us in the aim to be men and women capable of forgiveness!

[Pope Francis, Angelus 26 December 2018]

XXXI Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B (3 November 2024)

[* First Reading]

From the book of Deuteronomy Deut 6:2-6

SHEMA ISRAEL! Listen to Israel! In the first reading we find one of the most important texts of the Old Testament, a reminder of the preaching of Moses, which still today holds a prominent place in the religion and prayer of Israel. The book of Deuteronomy is late, even though we find it among the first five books of the Bible, and it is the result of all the reflection of God's people over many centuries after their exit from Egypt. Moses left nothing but the Tablets of the Law in stone, but his teachings were transmitted orally from generation to generation. From time to time, however, feeling the need to translate them into something written according to the places and needs of the moment, the books of the Bible were compiled almost to accompany the tumultuous events of Israel.  Thus were born the sapiential texts of King Solomon, then those of the prophets narrating the events of the people and the action of the prophets up to the exile in Babylon and the devastation of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. Once the exile was over, the Jews felt the need to return to what God had promised that the Land he had promised must be earned. It is at this point that the book of Deuteronomy (meaning the second law) was born. It appears as a second collection of Moses' teachings where the invitation "listen" resounds insistently, almost like a cry of alarm. Deuteronomy is therefore a reinterpretation of the history, exodus and teachings of Moses, many years after his death, to recall the urgency of conversion to return to the listening/obedience of the Mosaic Law. Listen, Israel: the Lord is our God, the only one is the Lord. The whole destiny of Israel is encapsulated in these two words: Shema, listen Israel! Israel, the chosen people, named after Jacob's memorable fight with God (Gen 32:29) in the Yabbok river tributary of the Jordan, is always tempted to fight against God - Moses called them a hard-nosed people. Instead, the book of Deuteronomy reminds them of the need to listen to/obey God in order to find happiness and freedom, and so even today, from the age of three or four, every Jew recites this prayer every day; indeed, he writes the Shema everywhere and even wears it on his forehead and in his arm at heart level; he stamps it on the door of his house and town. Shema Israel is to Jews what the Our Father is to Christians.

[*Responsorial Psalm]

Ps.17/18

"The Lord shows himself faithful to his anointed, that is, to his Messiah". Here, in the Responsorial Psalm, the term messiah simply means king, and the psalmist makes King David speak to the Lord while he is in trial.  We are before the year one thousand B.C. and the legitimate king was Saul, the first king of Israel, who however did not fulfil his mission well and in fact his reign began well and ended very badly because he did not want to listen to the prophet Samuel. At that point, God chose David as his successor who remained in the court of Saul who considered David as his rival and even tried to kill him on several occasions. 

In the second book of Samuel (ch.22) we read that David sang this psalm to thank God for having delivered him from his enemies, primarily Saul. Even though the psalm (17/18) was sung by David, the subject is not David alone, nor any particular character, but the entire people of God who, when they want to thank the Lord, borrow David's words while defending themselves from Saul, and so the people call God 'my rock, my fortress, my deliverer'. He invokes God my rock, in whom I take refuge because in those days caves were places of refuge and if every people had a protector god the one of Israel was far firmer than any other. In Deuteronomy (32:31) we read for example: 'For their rock is not like ours, and our enemies are witnesses'. When he speaks like this, Moses imbues the rock with a different meaning, echoing the deliverance from Egypt: "the Lord has delivered me because he loves me". And when the people sing this psalm, they recall the faithful presence of the One whose name is "I am with you" and this constant reminder is a source of hope. Like David, Israel awaits the fulfilment of the promises of the faithful God, that is, the coming of the Messiah who will definitively liberate humanity. And this is why they sing: 'Long live the Lord and blessed is my rock, exalted be the God of my salvation. He grants his king great victories, he shows himself faithful to his Messiah".

[Second Reading].

From the letter to the Hebrews (Heb 7:23-28)

The letter to the Hebrews is always surprising: written by a Jewish convert to Christ for other Jewish converts, it uses language that is comprehensible to Jews but certainly less immediately comprehensible to us. The text proceeds by contrasts that ultimately boil down to a single and fundamental one: that is, the difference between the Old and the New Covenant. In today's text, this comparison, although not explicitly declared, is present in every sentence: in the first Covenant, that is, in the Old Testament, many "became priests because death prevented them from lasting long" (v.23) and "the Law in fact constitutes high priests men subject to frailty", for this reason needing "to offer sacrifices every day, first for their own sins and then for those of the people"(27).  The priests of the Old Testament were mortal, while Jesus is immortal having immolated himself "once for all, offering himself". In the Old Testament, the priest was timeless while Christ is a priest forever; he was separated from other men according to the rite of consecration while he himself remained a sinner full of frailty, while Christ is full of power and capable of saving; the other priests were appointed according to the Mosaic law, Jesus is called directly by God as his Son. From the incomplete and imperfect first Covenant, Jesus moves believers to the perfect and final new and fulfilled Covenant. In the text, the most important themes of the Christian faith are evoked: the resurrection of Christ, risen he lives forever (v. 24-25), and the Eucharist evoked by the reference to Christ's sacrifice that he offered himself once and for all (v. 27). Christ's whole life, not just his death, was the free gift of his love for the Father to its full fulfilment, and his death on the cross is the supreme sacrifice, anticipated in the Passover supper and now renewed in every Eucharist. When Jesus says: 'this is the cup of the new covenant of my blood shed for you', the disciples knew well that 'shedding the blood' meant accepting the sacrifice of his life.  Jesus Christ is therefore the only priest for eternity. It remains useful to make reference to the last verse where it speaks of the consecration by "oath" that constitutes the Son a priest, "made perfect for ever". There is here an allusion to Psalm 109/110 important for both Jews and Christians, many times quoted in the New Testament and in particular in the letter to the Hebrews: "The Lord has sworn and does not repent: "You are a priest forever in the manner of Melkiisedek". For the first Christians who came from the Jewish world, Jesus was the promised Messiah and at the same time king and priest, consecrated to be pontiff, i.e. bridge between God and men, obedient until death to the will of the Father and consecrated forever to the mission entrusted to him according to the eternal divine plan. The evangelist Luke also presents Jesus on the cross interceding until the end for us: "Father forgive them for they know not what they do" (Lk23:34), while Matthew notes that the sheet with which Joseph of Arimathea wrapped his body is like the high priest's robe (Mt 27:59). The author of the letter to the Hebrews therefore draws his conclusion: Jesus saves us forever and always intercedes on our behalf so that "we advance with full confidence to the throne of grace" (4:16).

[Gospel].

Mk 12:28-34

What is the first of all commandments? 

The Sages of the Talmud speak of 613 mitzvòt, i.e. 613 biblical commandments. These are divided into 248 positive commandments, mitzvòt assè, and 365 negative or prohibitive commandments, mitzvòt lo tàassè. The scribe asking the question knows that the most important commandment for the Jews was the observance of the Sabbath, the transgression of which was tantamount to transgressing the entire law and was therefore punished with death. Jesus, however, had broken it several times by healing on the Sabbath and so now a scribe attempts to test him, since Jesus had silenced both the Pharisees and the Sadducees.  The scribes were the official theologians of the time who had already decided to eliminate Jesus and were looking for a way and an opportunity, but feared the crowd. The question is therefore not to learn but to mislead Jesus. As always, Jesus answers surprisingly because he says that the first is... and then he does not quote either the Decalogue or any of the 613 commandments, but refers to the Scriptures and compares two texts that are well known to all. He quotes the creed of Israel, Shemà Israel, Hear Israel, the prayer that Jews recite twice a day, morning and evening, found in the book of Deuteronomy (6:4). "The first is: Hear Israel! The Lord our God is the only Lord; you shall therefore love the Lord your God with all your heart, and the Hebrew text adds the possessive to emphasise the immediacy, the force of this command, with all your soul, which is life, the psyche in Greek, with all your mind and with all your strength'. However, love for God must be translated into love for one's neighbour: this is why he adds to this prayer the second precept found in the book of Leviticus: "You shall love your neighbour as yourself" (Lev 19:18) And he notes that there is no other commandment greater than these. The first, the famous Shema Israel, which we read today in the first reading, is joined by the second, which is a passage from the book of Leviticus often quoted by religious authorities. The Shema Israel prescribed to love God and him alone in the sense of attaching oneself to him to the exclusion of all other gods, a clear rejection of idolatry. This love of God was nothing other than a response to the love of God who had chosen Israel as his people. But can love be commanded? The initial impulse certainly cannot, but the faithfulness of love can be commanded, and that is precisely what we are talking about here: to make love an absolute law is to make every other norm of any kind relative to the love of God so that no law can take its place.  The second commandment appears in the book of Leviticus and it is the so-called law of holiness which begins: "Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy" (Lev 19:2). So already in the Old Testament, in the ideal of Israel, the love of God and neighbour merged into a single love and the Tablets of the Law translated this requirement by closely linking the relationship with God and that with one's neighbour.  This scribe is encouraged by Jesus who concludes with a formula that resembles a beatitude: 'You are not far from the kingdom of God'. It is interesting to note that Jesus' teaching is not of the type: You must, you must, you must do...but rather it is a revelation of what we already live and, in this perspective, he seems to say: "since you have understood that loving is the most important thing blessed are you because you are already very close to the kingdom of God". And it is even more interesting to note that Jesus ends the series of disputes with the Pharisees and scribes that we have seen throughout Mark's gospel in this way, with a positive note that we find only in this gospel: "You are not far from the kingdom of God".  In truth, one question still remains: "If everything was already written in the Mosaic law, what is the original contribution of Jesus"?  It is true that everything was in germ in the Mosaic Law, but Jesus announces and brings to fulfilment the final stage of revelation. And how? Firstly by extending the notion of neighbour to infinity - Mark shows in fact that he struggles against all exclusion - and secondly Jesus came to earth to live in himself these two inseparable loves: love of God and love of neighbour. Finally, Jesus came to make us capable of loving by giving us the gift of his Spirit: 'A new commandment I give you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another' (Jn 13:35) and by this all will recognise you as my disciples.  He thus offers the scribe the most beautiful definition of the Kingdom: God reigns where love is king because the love of God nourishes the love of neighbour.

Happy Sunday to you all!

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Small coins and festival of the voracious God, in solemn appearances

(Mk 12:38-44)

Jesus faces the treasure of the Temple, the true ‘god’ of the whole sanctuary. The comparison is ruthless: one as opposed to the other (v.41).

Enigma that could not be solved with a simple ‘purification’ of the sacred place, or a replenishment of devotion.

It will be surprising, but the Gospel passage does not sing praises of individual humility which by faith deprives itself of everything: it’s rather a radical appeal to church leaders and to the sense of institution.

The Lord is saddened by every expropriation conditioned by awe. Indeed, fear takes life from those who do not enjoy fullness.

Christ weeps the subordinate condition of the poor and neglected: He does not make her take the chair. He does not credit the situation. He doesn’t want the woman already naked by two cents to undress all.

He seems distraught for that one silent figure; to underline the difference between the voracious demands of the ancient religions’ God and those of a completely different sign - in our favor - of the Father in the Faith.

While Jesus noticed and was mourning on the minuteous gesture of the little woman, the Apostles did not even notice the irrelevant poor creature, continuing to gape at the magnificence of the Temple.

Who knows what they were dreaming about... seduced by honor.

To divert them from the fever of reputation and considerations they desired to boast of, there was a need for an awareness; but to move them out of their place and yardstick the miracles would not have been enough.

Thus Jesus seeks to convey in conscience the Good News that the Father is the exact opposite of how he had been painted to them by the spiritual guides of the time.

The Eternal disconcerts: He does not take, does not appropriate, does not plunder, nor does absorb or debilitate us - but He is the One who gives.

He does not punish if you do not placate Him with both the little coins you have, without withholding a single one - even if only by doing in half (v.2).

The honour to God is not exclusive, but inclusive.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, we could say that in authentic communities [as in families] «everyone contributes to the common purpose; everyone works for the common good, not denying each person’s individuality but encouraging and supporting it» (n.230).

The Son notes with bitterness that the beautiful protagonists themselves «devour the houses of widows» (v.40) as vampires. So convincing as to make the souls of the simple even their supporters and victims.

Christ is saddened by such unconscious complicity, induced by the lack of knowledge of the Father’s Face - preached as a leech God.

In fact, in the path of personal Faith true believers are not repeaters of external roles (vv.38-40).

We collaborate with the creative and deifying work of the Eternal in offering ourselves as a vital food for the humanity to which the Bridegroom has been taken away - here in the figure of the poor «widow» who bleed out.

In short, we must no longer macerate and wear ourselves out, because of the glory of the Almighty, but enrich ourselves with Him and pronounce fully!

A God all substance, of little epidermal appearance.

Yet the antithesis of the rich and poor was resurfacing in the early communities... to the detriment of the isolated.

Here, precisely the reversal of the fortunes had to become characteristic of the adoring Church, which is immersed in the same rhythm of the supreme vital Source.

It will therefore be the amiable institution that will remain naked and pilgrim, even in the space of the small and unsteady.

And the action of the assemblies of believers will be able to activate a new, convivial world, humanizing disharmonies.

A reality that beats ‘time’. For a ‘Kingdom’ really not neutral. But where does the soul counts, not the curriculum.

[32nd Sunday (B), November 10, 2024]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

The Liturgy of the Word this Sunday gives us two widows as models of faith. They are presented in parallel: one in the First Book of Kings (17:10-16) and the other in the Gospel of Mark (12:41-44). Both these women are very poor and it is precisely this condition that speaks of their great faith in God. The first appears in the series of narratives about the Prophet Elijah. In a time of famine, he receives an order from the Lord to go to pagan territory near Sidon, outside Israel. There he meets a widow and asks her for water to drink and a little bread. The woman replies that there is only a handful of flour and a drop of oil, but, since the Prophet insists and promises her that, if she listens to him, flour and oil will not be wanting; she listens and is rewarded.

The second widow in the Gospel is noticed by Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem, to be precise at the treasury, where men and women are giving alms. Jesus sees this woman throwing two coins into the treasury; he then calls his disciples and explains that her contribution is greater than that of the rich, because, while they gave of their plenty, the widow put in “everything she had, her whole living” (Mk 12:44). 

From these two biblical passages, wisely juxtaposed, one can learn a valuable lesson about the faith. It appears as an interior attitude of he who bases his life on God, on the Word, and trusts totally in him. Being a widow in antiquity was in itself a condition of grave need. This is why in the Bible widows and orphans were people whom God cared for in a special way: they have lost their earthly support but God remains their Spouse, their Parent. 

Yet, Scripture says that the objective state of need, in this case being a widow, does not suffice: God always asks for our free adherence to faith, that it is expressed in love for him and for our neighbour. No one is so poor that he cannot give something. And, in fact, both of these widows from today demonstrate their faith by carrying out an act of charity: one for the Prophet and the other by almsgiving. Thus they attest to the inseparable unity between faith and love, as between love of God and love of one’s neighbour — as the Gospel of last Sunday reminded us. Pope St Leo the Great, whose memory we celebrated yesterday, affirmed this: “On the scales of divine justice the quantity of gifts is not weighed, but the weight of hearts. The widow deposited in the Temple treasury two small coins and by doing so surpassed the gifts of all the rich. No gesture of goodness is meaningless before God, no mercy is left barren” (Sermo de jejunio dec. mens., 90, 3).

The Virgin Mary is the perfect example of someone who gives gives her whole self by trusting in God; with this faith she proclaims her fiat to the Angel and accepts the Will of Lord. May Mary help each one of us too, during this Year of Faith, to strengthen our faith in God and in his Word.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 11 November 2012]

2. Let us praise God together with the psalmist: he "is faithful for ever": the God of the covenant. He is the one who "brings justice to the oppressed", who "gives bread to the hungry" - as we ask him every day. God is the one who 'restores sight to the blind': he restores the sight of the spirit. He "raises up the fallen". He "upholds the orphan and the widow" . . . (Ps 146 [145]:6-9).

3. It is precisely the widow who is at the centre of today's liturgy of the Word. This is a well-known figure from the Gospel: the poor widow who threw into the treasury "two pennies, that is, one quintrin" (Mk 12:42) - (what is the approximate value of this coin?). Jesus observed "how the crowd threw coins into the treasury. And many rich people were throwing a lot of them" (Mk 12:41).

Seeing the widow and her offering he said to the disciples: "This widow has thrown more into the treasury than all the others . . . They all gave of their surplus; she, on the other hand, in her poverty, put in all she had, all she had to live on" (Mk 12:43-44).

4. The widow of the Gospel has her parallel in the old covenant. The first reading of the liturgy from the book of Kings, recalls another widow, that of Zarepta, who at the request of the prophet Elijah shared with him all that she had for herself and her son: bread and oil, even though what she had was only enough for the two of them.

And behold - according to Elijah's prediction - the miracle happened: the flour in the jar did not run out and the jar of oil was not emptied . . . and so it was for several days (cf. 1 Kings 17: 14-17).

5. A common characteristic unites both widows - the widow of the old covenant and the widow of the new covenant -. Both are poor and at the same time generous: they give all that is in their power. Everything they possess. Such generosity of heart is a manifestation of total reliance on God. And so today's liturgy rightly links these two figures with the first beatitude of Christ's Sermon on the Mount:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:3). The 'poor in spirit' - like that widow of Zarepta in the time of Elijah, and that other in the temple of Jerusalem in the time of Christ - demonstrate in their poverty a great richness of spirit. For: the poor in spirit is rich in spirit. And only he who is rich in spirit can enrich others. Christ teaches that "theirs is the kingdom of heaven".

6. For us who participate in the Eucharistic sacrifice, this instruction is particularly important. Only when our presence here reveals that 'poverty in spirit' of which Christ's beatitude speaks, only then can we offer our offering to the great 'spiritual treasure' of the Church: can we bring this offering to the altar in that spirit which God, our creator, and Christ, our redeemer, expect from us.

The letter to the Hebrews speaks of Christ, the eternal priest, interceding on our behalf by presenting before God the Father the sacrifice of the cross on Golgotha. And this unique, most holy and indefinite value of Christ's sacrifice also embraces the offerings we bring to the altar. It is necessary that these offerings be similar to the offering of that widow in the Jerusalem temple, and also to the offering of the widow of Zarepta from the time of Elijah. It is necessary that these offerings of ours brought to the altar - our participation in the Eucharist - carry within them a sign of Christ's blessedness about the "poor in spirit".

7. The whole Church today meditates on the truth contained in these words of the liturgy. It is given me today, as Bishop of Rome, to meditate on them together with you, the faithful of the parish of St Louis Gonzaga, at Parioli. Your patron, St Louis, lived to the full the evangelical beatitude of poverty in spirit, that is, of stripping oneself of earthly honours and goods in order to conquer true wealth, which is the Kingdom of God. In fact, he said to his father, Marquis of Castiglione delle Stiviere: 'A marquisate is not enough for me, I aim for a kingdom'; he was evidently referring to the Kingdom of Heaven. To realise his wish, Louis renounced his father's title and inheritance to enter the Roman novitiate of the Society of Jesus. He made himself poor in order to become rich. He would later note in one of his writings: 'Even princes are ashes, like the poor'. Just like the 'poor widow', he gave everything to the Lord with generosity and zeal, which has something of the heroic about it. She chose the humblest tasks for herself, dedicating herself to serving the sick, especially during the plague epidemic that struck Rome in 1590, and giving her life for them.

[Pope John Paul II, homily at the parish s. Luigi Gonzaga, 6 November 1988]