Ash Wednesday [18 February 2026]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! I am now sending the texts for Ash Wednesday and Wednesday those for Sunday.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Joel (2:12-18)

'Return to the Lord with all your heart'. The book of the prophet Joel is one of the shortest in the Old Testament: it has only seventy-three verses, divided into four chapters, and is generally dated around 600 BC, shortly before the Exile to Babylon. Three major themes are constantly interwoven in this writing: the announcement of terrible scourges, real or symbolic; the urgent call to fasting and conversion; and finally, the proclamation of the salvation that God grants to his people. It is above all the second theme, that of conversion, which the liturgy proposes at the beginning of the Lenten journey. The invitation to conversion opens solemnly with the typical formula of the prophets: "The word of the Lord." It draws attention and asks us to take seriously what follows. And what follows is a decisive word: "Return". It is the fundamental verb of biblical penitential language. God invites his people to return to him, while the people, in turn, implore God to "return", that is, to grant forgiveness and mercy. This return to God must be expressed through fasting, tears and mourning: traditional signs of penance. However, the prophets, and Joel in particular, warn against the risk of stopping at outward appearances. For this reason, the prophet strongly affirms: "Rend your hearts and not your garments". Authentic conversion is not a matter of visible rituals, but a profound change of heart. Joel thus follows in the great prophetic tradition inaugurated by Isaiah, who denounced empty and formal worship, incapable of transforming life: God rejects solemn feasts and multiplied prayers when hands remain stained with injustice. What He asks for is a true purification of the heart and actions, the abandonment of evil and a concrete commitment to good and justice. The same message is expressed in a particularly intense way in Psalm 50/51, which defines true conversion as a "broken and humbled heart". In the light of Ezekiel, this image takes on an even deeper meaning: it is necessary for the heart of stone to be broken so that a heart of flesh may finally be born, capable of listening to God and living according to his will. When Joel calls for hearts to be torn, he means precisely this radical transformation of the human being. Conversion, in Joel's view, aims to obtain God's forgiveness and avert deserved punishment. The prophet reminds us that the Lord is 'tender and merciful, slow to anger and rich in love' and leaves open a hope: perhaps God will retrace his steps, renounce punishment and save his people from humiliation before the nations. But the final announcement exceeds all expectations: forgiveness is not only possible, it has already been granted. The liturgical translation speaks of a God who is 'moved' by his people, but the Hebrew text is even stronger: 'The Lord burns with zeal for his land and has compassion on his people'. This is not a cold or distant pity, but a passionate and faithful love. It remains to be discovered in biblical revelation that this mercy is not reserved for Israel alone. The book of Jonah shows this in a surprising way, recounting the conversion of Nineveh, the pagan city: faced with the fasting and change of life of its inhabitants, God renounces the punishment he had announced. The message is clear: the Lord "burns with zeal" for all people, even those who seem distant or unworthy.

This truth will find its definitive expression in the New Testament, when St Paul affirms that God has manifested his love in a radical way: Christ died for us while we were still sinners (Rom 5:8).

*Responsorial Psalm (50/51)

"Have mercy on me, O God, in your love; in your great mercy blot out my guilt. Wash me clean of my guilt, purify me from my sin." The people of Israel are gathered in the Temple in Jerusalem for a great penitential celebration. They recognise themselves as sinners, but they also know God's inexhaustible mercy. And, after all, if they gather to ask for forgiveness, it is precisely because they know in advance that forgiveness has already been granted. This was the great discovery of King David, who had brought his beautiful neighbour Bathsheba (the wife of an officer, Uriah, who was at war at the time) to his palace and slept with her, and she became pregnant. Some time later, Bathsheba let David know that she was expecting his child. At that point, David arranged for the death of her betrayed husband on the battlefield, so that he could definitively take possession of the woman and the child she was carrying. Now, and this is where God's unexpectedness comes in, when the prophet Nathan went to David, he did not first try to extract a confession of repentance from him; instead, he began by reminding him of all the gifts he had received from God and announcing his forgiveness, even before David had had time to make the slightest admission of guilt (cf. 2 Sam 12). In essence, he said to him, 'Look at all that God has given you... and know that he is ready to give you anything else you want!'. Israel has always been able to verify that God is truly a merciful and compassionate Lord, slow to anger, rich in faithful love, according to the revelation made to Moses in the desert (Ex 34:6). The prophets also reiterated this message, and the verses of the psalm we have heard are imbued with the discoveries of Isaiah and Ezekiel. Isaiah, for example, has God say: "I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins" (Isaiah 43:25). The proclamation of God's gratuitous forgiveness sometimes surprises us: it seems too good to be true; to some it even seems unfair. If everything is forgivable, what is the point of making an effort? It is to forget too quickly that all of us, without exception, need God's mercy: so let us not complain about it! And let us not be surprised if God surprises us, because, as Isaiah says, "God's thoughts are not our thoughts". And in forgiving, Isaiah points out, God surprises us more than anything else. Faced with the ever-renewed proclamation of God's mercy, the people of Israel recognise themselves as sinners. The confession is not detailed, as it never is in the penitential psalms, but the essential is said in this supplication: Have mercy on me, O God, in your love, in your great mercy, blot out my sin... And God, who is all mercy, expects nothing more than this simple recognition of our poverty. After all, the word 'mercy' has the same root as the word 'alms': literally, we are beggars before God. At this point, we have two things left to do.

Simply give thanks for this forgiveness that is continually given. When Israel turns to God, it always acknowledges the goodness with which He has filled it since the beginning of its history, and this shows that the most important prayer in a penitential celebration is the acknowledgement of God's gifts and forgiveness: we must begin by contemplating Him; only then, this contemplation, revealing the gap between Him and us, allows us to recognise ourselves as sinners: we confess God's love together with our sin. Then the song of gratitude will flow spontaneously from our lips when God opens our hearts. "Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise" (Psalm 50/51). Praise and thanksgiving can only arise in us if God opens our hearts and our lips. The second thing God expects of us is to forgive in turn, without delay or conditions... and that is quite a programme.

*Second reading from the second letter of St Paul to the Corinthians (5:20-6:2)

"Be reconciled to God," says Paul; but reconciliation implies that there is a quarrel: what quarrel is it? The men of the Old Testament discovered that God is not at odds with man. Psalm 102/103, for example, states: The Lord does not always contend, nor does he keep his anger forever; he does not treat us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities... Isaiah also invites the wicked to abandon their ways, the unrighteous to abandon their thoughts; return to the Lord, who will have compassion on you, to our God, who forgives abundantly (Is 55:7). And the book of Wisdom adds: 'You have mercy on all because you can do all things, and you turn away your gaze from the sins of men to lead them to repentance... You spare them all, because they are yours, Lord, who loves life... Your dominion over all makes you use clemency towards all' (Wisdom 11:23; 12:16). The men of the Bible experienced this, beginning with David. God knew that he had blood on his hands (after the killing of Uriah, Bathsheba's husband, 2 Sam 12), yet he sent the prophet Nathan to tell him in essence: "Everything you have, I have given you, and if that is not enough, I am ready to give you everything else you desire." God also knew that Solomon owed his throne to the elimination of his rivals, yet he listened to his prayer at Gibeon and granted it far beyond what the young king had dared to ask (1 Kings 3). Furthermore, God's very name — the Merciful One — means that he loves us even more when we are miserable. God, therefore, is not at odds with man; yet Paul speaks of reconciliation, because man has always been at odds with God. The text of Genesis (Genesis 2-3) attributes the accusatory phrase to the serpent: "God knows that on the day you eat of it, your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods, knowing good and evil" (Gen 3:4). In other words, man suspects that God is jealous and does not want his good. But since that voice is not natural to man (it is the serpent's), he can be healed of this suspicion. This is what Paul says: "It is God himself who calls you; we urge you in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God." And what did God do to remove this quarrel, this suspicion, from our hearts? He who knew no sin, God made him sin for us: Jesus knew no sin even for a moment, he was never at odds with the Father. Paul adds: 'He became obedient' (Phil 2:8), that is, trusting even through suffering and death. He sought to communicate to men this trust and the revelation of a God who is only love, forgiveness, and help for the little ones. Paradoxically, it was precisely for this reason that he was considered blasphemous, placed among sinners and executed as a cursed man (Deut 21:23). The darkness of men fell upon him, and God allowed it because it was the only way to make us realise how far his "zeal for his people" can go, as the prophet Joel says. Jesus suffered in the flesh the sin of men, their violence, their hatred, their rejection of a God of love. On the face of the crucified Christ, we contemplate the horror of human sin, but also God's gentleness and forgiveness. From this contemplation can come our conversion, our 'justification', as Paul says. They will look upon him whom they have pierced (cf. Zechariah 12:10; John 19:37). To discover in Jesus, who forgives his executioners, the very image of God means to enter into the reconciliation offered by God. We are left with the task of proclaiming this to the world: 'We are ambassadors for Christ', says Paul, considering himself sent on mission to his brothers and sisters. It is up to us to continue this mission, and this is probably the meaning of Paul's final quotation: "For it is written in Scripture: 'At the favourable time I answered you, on the day of salvation I helped you.'" Paul here takes up a phrase from Isaiah, who exhorted the Babylonian exiles to proclaim that the hour of God's salvation had come. In turn, Christ entrusted to the Church the task of proclaiming the forgiveness of sins to the world.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (6:1-6, 16-18)

  Here we have two short excerpts from the Sermon on the Mount, which occupies chapters 5-7 of St Matthew; the entire sermon is built around its central core, the Lord's Prayer (6:9-13), which gives meaning to everything else. The recommendations we read today are not just moral advice: they concern the very meaning of faith. All our actions are rooted in the discovery that God is Father. Thus, prayer, almsgiving and fasting become paths to bring us closer to God the Father: fasting means learning to go out of ourselves, praying means centring ourselves on God, giving alms means centring ourselves on our brothers and sisters. Three times Jesus repeats similar, almost polemical formulations: Do not be like those who flaunt their piety.... It is important to remember how significant religious manifestations were in Jewish society at the time, with the inevitable risk of attributing too much value to outward gestures; and probably even prominent figures did not escape this! Matthew sometimes reports Jesus' rebukes to those who focused more on the length of their fringes than on mercy and faithfulness (Mt 23:5f). Here, however, Jesus invites his disciples to a truth operation: If you want to live as righteous people, avoid acting in front of others to be admired. Righteousness was the great concern of believers: and if Jesus mentions the pursuit of righteousness twice in the Beatitudes, it is because that term, that thirst, was familiar to his listeners: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied" (5:6); "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (5:10). True biblical justice consists in harmony with God's plan, not in the accumulation of practices, however noble they may seem. The famous phrase from Genesis — Abraham believed in the Lord, and it was credited to him as righteousness (Gen 15:6) — teaches us that justice is first and foremost righteousness, as in a musical instrument, a deep harmony with God's will.

The three practices — prayer, fasting, almsgiving — are paths to righteousness.

Prayer: let God guide us according to his plan: "Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." We wait for Him to teach us the true needs of the Kingdom. Jesus precedes the teaching of the Our Father with this recommendation: "When you pray, do not do as the pagans do... your Father knows what you need before you ask him (6:7-8).

Fasting: by ceasing to pursue what we believe is necessary for our happiness, which risks absorbing us more and more, we learn freedom and recognise true priorities; Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God (Mt 4:4).

Almsgiving: The word almsgiving comes from the same family as eleison: to give alms means to open one's heart to mercy. God wants the good of all his children; justice, understood as harmony with Him, inevitably includes a dimension of social justice. The parable of the Last Judgement (Mt 25:31-46) confirms this: "Come, blessed of my Father... for I was hungry and you gave me food... and the righteous will enter into eternal life." The behaviours that Jesus condemns — do not be like those who show off — are the opposite: they keep man centred on himself, closing his heart to the transforming action of the Spirit.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Trumpets, bass drums and reciters, or perfect instruments

(Mt 6:1-6.16-18)

External wiles have no wisdom: they become a boomerang.

Whoever tries to shine obscures his own light. Anyone who cares about the opinion of the crowds will be a prisoner of it.

Life in the Spirit detaches itself from the practice of (accidental) things to show in order to beg for recognition.

Artificial alms:

Even show men who are starting to lack inspiration like to be considered benefactors of humanity, but their real goal is to go on stage - not the spread of a spirit of disinterest.

They intend to be recognized and acclaimed again - for this they use an absolutely flashy, exhibitionist and tacky way.

Reached the individualistic goal, despite the superficial altruism they would leave everything as it was.

It would be quite different if the left didn’t know what the right does, that is, if every gesture flourished spontaneously and in hiding rather than in overload - but let alone what a pleasure, not to let it be known.

The same orientation is valid for Prayer, much better if inapparent. The inner life is not unnatural acting.

In the Temple the sacrifices were accompanied by public formulas. To this effect, the synagogues were also considered an extension of the Temple. And at the appointed hours, prayer was also on the street.

Those who were able to recite long litanies by heart could thus flaunt their virtue and be admired.

But Dialogue with God is not performance, but essential Listening: root of renewal; principle of criteria and action.

Prayer is intimate perception and profound reading of things. Understanding and empathy that restore us to the meaning of personal life - critical moment of our growth and love for brothers.

The soul dominated by noise doesn’t grasp the guidance of the innate Friend, nor its own primary quality.

Open prayer establishes people in this intimate, secret, hidden atmosphere, which in the Spirit is intertwined with the deepest and most ancestral fibers.

Again, personal prayer is creative. It not only cancels the idea that we have made of life, pains, goals, relationships, defeats, judgments...

[The bitterness doesn’t seem to make life fly - but they invite to move our eyes].

And attentive Listening transmits a new Reading to us; pushes out of boundaries. Puts in contact with other energies and virtues.

A higher level of humanity ‘comes’ to us only in the amazement of this different advice, of an unexpected intuition, of a reality that displaces.

Principle of Liberation that lets our own deep sides meet, and reminds them, making us travel through the akin territory - which we do not yet know.

The woman and the man who gather in prayer are torn from the homologation of interpretative codes, and from the disease of the society of appearances - seated in the opinions and in the time of the minimal.

Finally the (forcibly) thoughtful and undone aspect:

Perhaps even today some use to pose in an extravagant way, showing themselves off as "alternative".

But in this way believers only walk the way of renunciations in a manner [those that God doesn’t ask for]. And to the exact opposite, making the vital wave hysterical.

Instead, we are called to be in company: with ourselves and brothers.

Even renunciation is for harmonious coexistence, without forcing that dissociate the main lines of the personality.

Here too the discernment of spirits becomes a propitious opportunity to create space for the humanizing vocation, and set the time of ambiguous noise in background.

In short, the meaning of imposing Ashes on the heads of the faithful is not one of mortification, but of New Life and revitalisation: as in ancient agricultural practices.

During the cold season, farmers accumulated ashes, and at the end of winter they scattered them on the fields to fertilise them.

Thus, the new meaning of Ashes is understood as fertile flowering.

They do not lead us to Good Friday, but to Easter Sunday.

In a time of renewed discovery of our hidden abilities, and therefore of the freedom to 'descend'.

Recovering everything and everyone to full Life.

In the living and personal Vision, already here and now, of the Risen One.

[Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026]

The faithless lower self, the thespian

Mt 6:1-6.16-18 (.19-23)

"Beware of practising your righteousness before men in order to be admired by them" (Mt 6:1). Jesus, in today's Gospel, reinterprets the three fundamental works of piety in the Mosaic Law. Almsgiving, prayer and fasting characterise the law-abiding Jew. In the course of time, these prescriptions had been marred by the rust of outward formalism, or had even mutated into a sign of superiority. Jesus highlights a common temptation in these three works of piety. When one does something good, almost instinctively the desire arises to be esteemed and admired for the good deed, that is, to have satisfaction. And this, on the one hand, encloses one in oneself, on the other hand, takes one out of oneself, because one lives projected towards what others think of us and admire in us. In re-proposing these prescriptions, the Lord Jesus does not ask for a formal respect to a law that is foreign to man, imposed by a strict legislator as a heavy burden, but invites us to rediscover these three works of piety by living them in a deeper way, not out of self-love, but out of love for God, as means on the path of conversion to Him. Almsgiving, prayer and fasting: this is the path of the divine pedagogy that accompanies us, not only in Lent, towards the encounter with the Risen Lord; a path to be travelled without ostentation, in the certainty that the heavenly Father knows how to read and see even in the secret of our hearts".

[Pope Benedict, homily 9 March 2011].

"But when you pray, enter into your room and shut your door [Is 26:20; 2 Kings 4:33] pray to your Father who is in secret" (Mt 6:6).

The Tao says: "He who attempts to shine, obscures his own Light" and "If you concern yourself with people's opinions, you will be their prisoner".

The disciples are called to a higher righteousness of intention (perfection) than the scribes and Pharisees - who performed according to appearance, public opinion, and retribution.

Jesus does not question religious practices per se, but their purpose and manner.

Aim: [among the still Judaizing veterans, from his communities in Galilee and Syria] to expose the insistents of outward fulfilment.

For shrewdness and the recitation of holiness succeed in fooling the imaginations of many... at least for a time.

But the wiles we are adept at concocting to beg for recognition do not possess the pace of Wisdom.

Fasting, penance and prayer are fundamental works, yet utterly worthless and meaningless if they are not made alive by charity and accompanied by justice.

Life in the Spirit is detached from the practice of 'spiritual' things - to show off... to deceive even oneself.

Finally, the (all incidental) artifice of holy duplicity becomes vague; sooner or later a boomerang.

At that time, the commitment to the Alms was held in high regard, but it had become general practice to announce the most important initiatives - in the synagogue and even in the streets.

For Jesus, publicity affects what belongs to us deeply [let not your left hand know what your right hand is doing] and is honourable.

Even 'devoutly' tightrope walkers, or career politicians who begin to lack the cue, like to make themselves out to be benefactors of humanity. But their real goal is to go on stage - not the spreading of a spirit of selflessness.

They intend to be recognised and acclaimed again - for this they use an absolutely showy, exhibitionist and gaudy manner.

Having reached their true goal of opportunism and individualism, despite their altruistic façade they would drop everything there.

Any convinced fulfilment would have to flourish spontaneously and hidden, instead of in overload - but just imagine what fun it would be, not to let it be known [...].

In reality, renouncing façade propaganda to promote contrary dimensions would extinguish intimate lacerations and conflicts; hidden energies would be released. A more fruitful awareness would be broadened.

The same orientation applies to Prayer, much better if inapparent. The inner life is not unnatural recitation.

Children's prayer is not reduced to a repetition of dirges, nor is it a request for favours; neither is it an exhibitionist and affected catwalk, to be considered pious, 'proper' and 'proper' people.

In the Temple, sacrifices were accompanied by public formulas. To this effect, even the synagogues were considered an extension of the Temple. And at the appointed times, prayers were also said in the streets.

Those who were able to recite long litanies from memory could thus flaunt their virtue and be admired.

But Dialogue with God is not performance, it is essential Listening: the root of renewal; distinguishing criteria and action. 

Understanding and empathy, intimate perception and profound intelligence of things restore us to the meaning of personal life - the discriminator of our growth and love for our brothers and sisters.

Why do we thirst for this knowledge, which is only grasped in its exclusive purity in a space of solitude?

Because the soul - overwhelmed with fracas - would not otherwise grasp the guidance of the innate Friend, nor its own essential quality.

There are inescapable questions, beyond the reach of our lower self, i.e. our cerebral or practical activities.

What is our Way? How do we accommodate that which has specific weight and character?

It is not worth solving problems hastily, at all costs, in a conformist or exaggerated manner.

Of course, we do not always get along with God who also wants us to flourish. What is the antidote?

Open prayer establishes people in this intimate, secret, hidden atmosphere that radically belongs to us,

In the Spirit it intertwines with the deepest, ancestral fibres - and gradually brings out the hidden path and destiny.

Personal prayer is creative.

It not only erases our idea of life, of sorrows, of goals, of relationships, of defeats, of judgements...

(Bitterness does not seem to make life fly by - but it does invite the eye to shift).

And Attention Listening gives us a new Reading; it brings us out of the confines. It puts us in touch with other energies and virtues.

A higher level of humanity comes to us only in the amazement of such different advice, of unexpected intuition; of a reality that disorients.

Principle of Liberation that allows us to encounter our own deepest sides, and reminds us of them, leading us into the kindred territory - that we do not yet know.

We must understand deeper than the action-reaction mechanisms allow, filled with distracted tension - absent from our own Calling by Name, which would give us enthusiasm.

Not infrequently, the soul itself - which detests certain outcomes that the society [also ecclesiastical] outside would like to let us live with - revolts, attacks and leads to the failure of all too normal goals.

Even the discomforts come from the simple fact that we are not on the Path of deep attunements: 'point' that bends its contractions towards us, for having chosen the broad but artificial path of compromises.

There are fundamental inclinations for everyone: it would be constructive to yield to them - and to allow ourselves to be guided.

Our complete existence is not a path mapped out by 'where we should go'.

It is appropriate not to be stubborn, and to learn to accommodate the activity of metamorphosis that wants to live; to express itself in us - to guide us and sometimes deviate from 'how we should be'.

The woman and man who gather in prayer are torn from the homologation of interpretative codes, and from the disease of the society of appearance - all sitting in the opinions and time of the minimal.

The same viewpoint for the theme of Fasting: a practice considered a manifestation of conversion to God.

But with surprise we note that Jesus' call applies especially to the religious with a forced pensive and undone air.

Not a few devotees of all creeds use to posture extravagantly - a tawdry expression of their emotional problems.

Indeed, here and there, even in youthful circles, there seems to be some regurgitation of contrived asceticism.

But in this way, believers only tread the path of mannered renunciations [those that God does not ask for], artificial ones. And for the exact opposite, making the life-wave hysterical.

Instead, we are called to be in company: with ourselves and with our brothers. Even renunciation is for the sake of harmonious coexistence, without forcing one's personality lines apart.

Here too, the discernment of spirits becomes a propitious occasion to create space for the humanising vocation.

Already the prophet Isaiah had distinguished between authentic and false fasting [Is 58], that is, not aimed at a life of justice and communion, hence at feasting and joy.

It is useless to undergo practices that do not change the heart.

Along the unspontaneous or trick-or-treat road (of plagiarism suffered or imposed of one's own mind on the soul) the lamb's bleating will sooner or later become a roaring or braying. A matter of time.

In the discernment of the spirits, it is the attitude that reveals the fiction of those who really only think only of power (in greed) and great things, precisely those of megalomaniac superiors, or the elect.

All this using poor Jesus and the little ones, or any creed whatsoever, as screens - just the opposite.

Almsgiving, fasting and prayer are attitudes, not knowable practices outside the unrepeatable language of God himself and his exceptional way of communicating with each person. 

Dialogue of an eccentric, precious, ineffable, fantastic, unsurpassed uniqueness, which does not allow itself to be attracted by window-dressing externality, nor by herd-like levelling, or crassness.

Putting the time of ambiguous hubbub in the background.

"Precisely because it is great, my Way seems to be like nothing [...] I do not dare to be first in the world, so I can be chief of the perfect instruments" [Tao Tê Ching, Lxvii].

To internalise and live the message:

Is your spiritual life a time of hubbub ... or a time and fertile ground, a propitious occasion to internalise, to encounter oneself, one's essence, and God in one's brothers and sisters?

Conclusion:

Where is the ecclesial heart?

(Mt 6:19-23)

"Where your treasure is, there your heart will be" (v.21). It is not an abused personal or institutional issue, insipid; from easy ironies.

To ignore it is to give it further breathing space, making it grow out of all proportion; making it even more out of time and difficult to read (and identify its treatment).

All this, however, must be done by putting precipitation in brackets... in the spirit of broader understanding. It is understood that in order to understand each other and activate different resources, each community must go through moments of the most severe verification.

Even for denominational churches with a wide and prestigious tradition, the awareness of being losers in this respect today is indispensable for finding oneself. Overcoming the stumbling block... forwards, 'outwards'.

We read in the Encyclical "Spe Salvi" No. 2 ("Faith is Hope"):

"Hope is a central word in biblical faith - to the point that in several passages the words 'faith' and 'hope' seem interchangeable [...].

How decisive it was for the awareness of the early Christians that they had received a reliable hope as a gift, is also shown where Christian existence is compared with life before faith or with the situation of the followers of other religions [...].

Their gods had proved questionable and no hope emanated from their contradictory myths. Despite the gods, they were 'godless' and consequently found themselves in a dark world, facing a dark future. 'In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus' (In nothing from nothing how soon we fall back) says an epitaph from that era [...].

It appears as a distinctive element of Christians that they have a future: it is not that they know in detail what awaits them, but they know on the whole that their life does not end in a vacuum.

Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does the present also become liveable. So we can now say: Christianity was not just 'good news' - a communication of hitherto unknown content.

In our language we would say: the Christian message was not just 'informative', but 'performative'. This means: the gospel is not just a communication of things that can be known, but a communication that produces facts and changes lives.

The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown wide open. He who has hope lives differently; he has been given a new life'.

In the form of the Relationship, everything opens up intense life - which integrates and overcomes self-love, the thirst for domination.

This liberates from the 'old', that is, it closes a cycle of paths already set - to make us return as newborns.

The Hope that has weight dismantles the inessential; it expels the noise of thoughts that are no longer in tune with our growth, and introduces dreamy energies, a wealth of possibilities.

There will be initial resistance, but development sets in.

Hope sacrifices ballasts and activates us according to the 'divine within'. It opens the door to a new, brighter and corresponding phase.

The treasures of the earth quickly blind; likewise they pass away: suddenly. The age of global crisis throws it in our faces.

Yet, it is a necessary pain.

We understand: the new paths are not traced by goods, nor by devout memories, but by the Void, which acts as a gap to common, taken for granted, reassuring easiness.

Religiosity good for all seasons gives way to the unprecedented life of Faith.

This is where the Art of discernment and pastoral work comes in: it should know how to introduce new competitive, dissimilar energies - cosmic and personal - that prepare unprecedented, open, gratuitous syntheses.

We know this, and yet in some circles (prestigious and already wealthy) the greed to possess under the guise of necessity does not allow them to see clearly.

It happens even to long-standing consecrated persons - it is not clear why such greedy, perfunctory duplicity.

Do we still want to emerge, raising more confusions? After all, we are dissatisfied with our mediocre choices.

At the beginning of the Vocation, we felt the need for a Relationship that would bring Meaning and a Centre to our feriality...

Then we deviated, perhaps out of dissatisfaction or for reasons of calculation and convenience - and the dullness of our robbing eyes prevailed. First here and there, gradually occupying the soul. 

Even in some leaders and prominent church circles, the basis of existence has become the many-zero bank account.

So... the vanity scene, the bag of commerce, the thrill of getting on the board, in various realities have supplanted real hearts - and eyes themselves.

As if to say: there is another experience of the 'divine', which is a doomsday: between one Psalm and another, better than Love becomes feeling powerful, secure and respected around.

(Do God and accumulation give different orders? No problem: let it be understood that one does it for 'his' Glory).

So much for the common good.

Not a few people are realising that counting is the most popular sport in various multi-pious companies, fantastically embellished with events and initiatives (to cover what it's worth).

And litmus test is precisely that mean-spirited scrutiny (vv.22-23) that behind dense scenes, holds back, even judges, and keeps a distance from others. With the gaze that closes the horizon of existence: the immediately at hand, and of circumstance, counts.

A seemingly superabundant belief - coincidentally without the prominence of Hope - is condemning us to the world's worst denatality rate.

The panorama of our devoutly empty villages and towns is discouraging. But one revels in one's own niche, and in the petty situation.

The important thing is that everything is epidermically adorned.

Under the peculiar bell tower that sets the pace for the usual things, many people keep 'their' (too much) to themselves, content to sacralise selfishness with the display of beautiful statues, customs, banners, colourful costumes and mannerisms.

Instead, according to the Gospels, in the attempts and paths of Faith that are not satisfied with an empty spirituality, life becomes bright with creative Love that flourishes, and puts everyone at ease.

Even the old can re-emerge in this new spirit. For there are other Heights. For what makes one intimate with God is nothing external.

The authentic Church aroused by clear 'visions' - without papier-mâché and duplicity - always reveals something portentous: fruitfulness from nullity, life from the outpouring of it, birth from apparent sterility.

A river of unimagined attunements will reconnect the reading of events and the action of believers to the work of the Spirit, without barriers.

For when normalised thinking gives way and settles down, the new advances.

The choice is now inexorable: between death and life; between longing and "darkness" (v.23), or Happiness.

The first step is to admit that one has to make a path.

To internalise and live the message:

Where is your treasure? Are your heart and your eye simple?

Have you ever experienced aspects that others judge inconclusive (from a material point of view) but which have instead paved the way for your new paths?

Ashes without mortification

In short, the meaning of imposing ashes on the heads of the faithful is not one of mortification, but of New Life and vivification: as in ancient agricultural practices.

In fact, during the cold season, farmers accumulated ashes, and at the end of winter they spread them on the fields to fertilise them.

Thus, the new meaning of ashes is understood as fruitful flowering.

They do not want to lead us to Good Friday, but to Easter Resurrection.

In a time of renewed discovery of our hidden abilities, and therefore of the freedom to 'descend'.

Recovering everything and everyone to full Life.

In the living and personal Vision, already here and now, of the Risen One.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

On this day, marked by the austere symbol of ashes, we enter the Season of Lent, beginning a spiritual journey that prepares us for celebrating worthily the Easter Mysteries. The blessed ashes imposed upon our forehead are a sign that reminds us of our condition as creatures, that invites us to repent, and to intensify our commitment to convert, to follow the Lord ever more closely.

Lent is a journey, it means accompanying Jesus who goes up to Jerusalem, the place of the fulfilment of his mystery of Passion, death and Resurrection; it reminds us that Christian life is a “way” to take, not so much consistent with a law to observe as with the very Person of Christ, to encounter, to welcome, to follow.

Indeed, Jesus says to us: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). In other words he tells us that in order to attain, with him, the light and joy of the Resurrection, the victory of life, of love and of goodness, we too must take up our daily cross, as a beautiful passage from the Imitation of Christ urges us: “Take up your cross, therefore, and follow Jesus, and you shall enter eternal life. He himself opened the way before you in carrying his Cross (Jn 19:17), and upon it he died for you, that you too, might take up your cross and long to die upon it. If you die with him, you shall also live with him, and if you share his suffering, you shall also share his glory” (Book 2, chapter 12, n. 2).

In Holy Mass of the First Sunday of Lent we shall pray: “Father, through our observance of Lent, sign of the sacrament of our conversion, help us to understand the meaning of your Son’s death and Resurrection, and teach us to reflect it in our lives” (Opening Prayer).

This is an invocation that we address to God because we know that he alone can convert our hearts. And it is above all in the Liturgy, by participating in the holy mysteries, that we are led to make this journey with the Lord; it means learning at the school of Jesus, reviewing the events that brought salvation to us but not as a mere commemoration, a remembrance of past events. In the liturgical actions Christ makes himself present through the power of the Holy Spirit and these saving events become real.

There is a keyword that recurs frequently in the Liturgy to indicate this: the word “today”; and it should be understood in its original and practical, rather than metaphorical, sense. Today God reveals his law and we are granted to choose today between good and evil, between life and death (cf. Dt 30:19). Today “the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel” (Mk 1:15). Today Christ died on Calvary and rose from the dead; he ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father; today the Holy Spirit is given to us; today is a favourable time.

Taking part in the Liturgy thus means immersing our life in the mystery of Christ, in his enduring presence so as to follow a path on which we enter his death and Resurrection in order to have life. The Sundays of Lent, in this liturgical year of Cycle A in a quite particular way, introduce us to the experience of a baptismal journey, almost as if we were retracing the path of the catechumens, of those who are preparing to receive Baptism, in order to rekindle this gift within us and to ensure that our life may recover a sense of the demands and commitments of this sacrament which is at the root of our Christian life.

In the Message for this Lent I wished to recall the particular connection that binds Baptism to the Season of Lent. The Church has always associated the Easter Vigil with the celebration of Baptism, step by step. In it is brought about that great mystery through which man, dead to sin, is enabled to share in new life in the Risen Christ and receives the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead (cf. Rom 8:11).

The Readings we shall listen to on the coming Sundays and to which I ask you to pay special attention are taken up precisely by the ancient tradition which accompanied catechumens in the discovery of Baptism. These Readings are the great proclamation of what God brings about in this sacrament, a wonderful baptismal catechesis addressed to each one of us.

The First Sunday of Lent, known as the “Sunday of the Temptation” because it presents Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, invites us to renew our definitive adherence to God and, in order to remain faithful to him, to face courageously the struggle that awaits us.

Over and over again we need determination, resistance to evil, we need to follow Jesus. On this Sunday, after hearing the testimony of the godparents and catechists, the Church celebrates the election of those who are admitted to the Easter sacraments.

The Second Sunday is called “of Abraham and of the Transfiguration”. Baptism is the sacrament of faith and of divine sonship; like Abraham, Father of believers, we too are asked to set out, to depart from our land, to give up the security we have created for ourselves in order to place our trust in God; the destination is glimpsed in the Transfiguration of Christ, the beloved Son, in whom we too become “sons of God”.

On the following Sundays, Baptism is presented in images of water, light and life. The Third Sunday makes us meet the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4:5-42). Like Israel in the Exodus, in Baptism we too have received the water that saves; Jesus, as the Samaritan woman says, has living water that quenches all thirst; and this water is the Spirit himself. On this Sunday the Church celebrates the First Scrutiny of the catechumens and during the week presents to them the Creed: the profession of faith.

The Fourth Sunday makes us reflect on the experience of the “man blind from birth” (cf. Jn 9:1-41). In Baptism, we are set free from the shadow of evil and receive Christ’s light in order to live as children of light. We too must learn to see in Christ’s Face God’s presence, hence light. The Second Scrutiny on the catechumen’s journey is celebrated.

Lastly, the Fifth Sunday presents to us the raising of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45). In Baptism we passed from death to life and were enabled to please God, to make the former person die so as to live by the Spirit of the Risen One. The Third Scrutiny for the catechumens is celebrated and during the week the Lord’s Prayer is presented to them.

In the Church’s tradition, this journey we are asked to take in Lent is marked by certain practices: fasting, almsgiving and prayer. Fasting means abstinence from food but includes other forms of privation for a more modest life. However, all this is not yet the full reality of fasting: it is an outer sign of an inner reality, of our commitment, with God’s help, to abstain from evil and to live by the Gospel. Those who are unable to nourish themselves with the word of God do not fast properly.

In the Christian tradition fasting is closely linked to almsgiving. St Leo the Great taught in one of his Discourses on Lent: “All that each Christian is bound to do in every season he must now do with greater solicitude and devotion in order to fulfil the apostolic prescription of Lenten fasting consistently, not only in abstinence from food but also and above all from sin. Furthermore, with this holy fasting which is only right, no work may be more fruitfully associated than almsgiving which, under the one name of ‘mercy’, embraces many good works. The field of works of mercy is immense. It is not only the rich and the well-off who can benefit others with almsgiving, but also those of modest means and even the poor. Thus, although their futures differ, all may be the same in the soul’s sentiments of piety” (Sermon VI on Lent, 2: PL 54, 286).

St Gregory the Great recalled in his Pastoral Rule that fasting is sanctified by the virtues that go with it, especially by charity, by every act of generosity, giving to the poor and needy the equivalent of something we ourselves have given up (cf. 19, 10-11). Lent, moreover, is a privileged period for prayer. St Augustine said that fasting and almsgiving are “the two wings of prayer” which enable it to gain momentum and more easily reach even to God.

He said: “In this way our prayers, made in humility and charity, in fasting and almsgiving, in temperance and in the forgiveness of offences, giving good things and not returning those that are bad, keeping away from evil and doing good, seek peace and achieve it. On the wings of these virtues our prayers fly safely and are more easily carried to Heaven, where Christ our Peace has preceded us” (Sermon 206, 3 on Lent: PL 38, 1042).

The Church knows that because of our weakness it is difficult to create silence in order to come before God and to acquire an awareness of our condition as creatures who depend on him, as sinners in need of his love. It is for this reason that in Lent she asks us to pray more faithfully, more intensely, and to prolong our meditation on the word of God.

St John Chrysostom urged: “Embellish your house with modesty and humility with the practice of prayer. Make your dwelling place shine with the light of justice; adorn its walls with good works, like a lustre of pure gold, and replace walls and precious stones with faith and supernatural magnanimity, putting prayer above all other things, high up in the gables, to give the whole complex decorum.

“You will thus prepare a worthy dwelling place for the Lord, you will welcome him in a splendid palace. He will grant you to transform your soul into a temple of his presence” (Homily 6 on Prayer: PG 64, 466).

Dear friends, on this Lenten journey let us be careful to accept Christ’s invitation to follow him more decisively and consistently, renewing the grace and commitments of our Baptism, to cast off the former person within us and put on Christ, in order to arrive at Easter renewed and able to say, with St Paul: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20). I wish you all a good Lenten journey! Thank you!

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 9 March 2011]

"Sound the horn, proclaim a solemn fast" (Gl 2:15), says the prophet in the First Reading. Lent opens with a shrill sound, that of a horn that does not caress the ears, but proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound, meant to slow down our lives that are always running, but often do not know where. It is a call to stop - a "stop!" -, to go to the essentials, to fast from the superfluous that distracts. It is an alarm clock for the soul.

The sound of this wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord delivers through the mouth of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: 'Return to me' (v. 12). Return. If we must return, it means we have gone elsewhere. Lent is the time to retrace the course of life. Because in the journey of life, as in any journey, what really counts is not to lose sight of the destination. When on the journey what matters is looking at the landscape or stopping to eat, we do not go far. Each of us can ask ourselves: on life's journey, do I seek the course? Or am I content to live by the day, thinking only of getting well, solving a few problems and having a little fun? What is the course? Perhaps the pursuit of health, which so many today say comes first but which will pass sooner or later? Perhaps possessions and wealth? But we are not in the world for that. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the destination of our journey in the world. The course must be set on Him.

To find our course, today we are offered a sign: ashes on our heads. It is a sign that makes us think about what is in our heads. Our thoughts often chase after passing things, which come and go. The light layer of ash that we receive is to tell us, gently and truthfully: of the many things that you have on your mind, behind which you run and toil every day, nothing will remain. However much you toil, from life you will take no wealth with you. Earthly realities vanish, like dust in the wind. Goods are temporary, power passes, success fades. The culture of appearance, dominant today, which induces one to live for the things that pass, is a great deception. For it is like a blaze: once it is over, only ashes remain. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of living chasing the dust. Lent is to rediscover that we are made for the fire that always burns, not for the ashes that immediately go out; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of Heaven, not for the deception of the earth; for the freedom of children, not for the slavery of things. We can ask ourselves today: which side am I on? Do I live by fire or by ashes?

In this journey back to the essentials that is Lent, the Gospel proposes three stages, which the Lord asks us to go through without hypocrisy, without pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the only three realities that do not vanish. Prayer takes us back to God; charity to our neighbour; fasting to ourselves. God, brothers, my life: these are the realities that do not end in nothingness, in which we must invest. This is where Lent invites us to look: upwards, with prayer, which frees one from a horizontal, flat life, where one finds time for the self but forgets God. And then towards the Other, with charity, which frees from the vanity of having, from thinking that things are good if they are good for me. Finally, he invites us to look inside ourselves, with fasting, which frees us from attachments to things, from worldliness that anaesthetises the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that lasts.

Jesus said: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass in search of orientation. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be served become things to be served. Outward appearance, money, career, pastimes: if we live for them, they will become idols that use us, sirens that enchant us and then cast us adrift. Instead, if the heart attaches itself to what does not pass, we find ourselves and become free. Lent is a time of grace to free the heart from vanities. It is a time of healing from the addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what remains.

Where then to fix our gaze along the path of Lent? It is simple: on the Crucified One. Jesus on the cross is the compass of life, directing us to Heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his stripping away out of love show us the need for a simpler life, free from too much preoccupation with things. Jesus from the cross teaches us the strong courage of renunciation. Because laden with cumbersome burdens, we will never move forward. We need to free ourselves from the tentacles of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being content, from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus, who on the wood of the cross burns with love, calls us to a life on fire with Him, one that is not lost in the ashes of the world; a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as He asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads to the goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with ashes, but in the end it leads us to the fire of Easter night; to discover that, in the tomb, the flesh of Jesus does not become ashes, but rises again in glory. It also applies to us, who are dust: if with our frailties we return to the Lord, if we take the way of love, we will embrace the life that does not fade. And we shall certainly be in joy.

[Pope John Paul II, St Sabina Lenten “station” 8 March 2000]

“Blow the trumpet […] sanctify a fast” (Joel 2:15), says the prophet in the first reading. Lent opens with a piercing sound, that of a trumpet that does not please the ears, but instead proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound that seeks to slow down our life, which is so fast-paced, yet often directionless. It is a summons to stop – a “halt!” –, to focus on what is essential, to fast from the unnecessary things that distract us. It is a wake-up call for the soul.

This wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord proclaims through the lips of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: “Return to me” (v 12). To return. If we have to return, it means that we have wandered off. Lent is the time to rediscover the direction of life. Because in life’s journey, as in every journey, what really matters is not to lose sight of the goal. If what interests us as we travel, however, is looking at the scenery or stopping to eat, we will not get far. We should ask ourselves: On the journey of life, do I seek the way forward? Or am I satisfied with living in the moment and thinking only of feeling good, solving some problems and having fun? What is the path? Is it the search for health, which many today say comes first but which eventually passes? Could it be possessions and wellbeing? But we are not in the world for this. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the goal of our journey in this world. The direction must lead to him.

Today we have been offered a sign that will help us find our direction: the head marked by ash. It is a sign that causes us to consider what occupies our mind. Our thoughts often focus on transient things, which come and go. The small mark of ash, which we will receive, is a subtle yet real reminder that of the many things occupying our thoughts, that we chase after and worry about every day, nothing will remain. No matter how hard we work, we will take no wealth with us from this life. Earthly realities fade away like dust in the wind. Possessions are temporary, power passes, success wanes. The culture of appearance prevalent today, which persuades us to live for passing things, is a great deception. It is like a blaze: once ended, only ash remains. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of chasing after dust. Lent is for rediscovering that we are created for the inextinguishable flame, not for ashes that immediately disappear; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of heaven, not for earthly deceit; for the freedom of the children of God, not for slavery to things. We should ask ourselves today: Where do I stand? Do I live for fire or for ash?

On this Lenten journey, back to what is essential, the Gospel proposes three steps which the Lord invites us to undertake without hypocrisy and pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the three realities that do not fade away. Prayer reunites us to God; charity, to our neighbour; fasting, to ourselves. God, my neighbour, my life: these are the realities that do not fade away and in which we must invest. Lent, therefore, invites us to focus, first of all on the Almighty, in prayer, which frees us from that horizontal and mundane life where we find time for self but forget God. It then invites us to focus on others, with the charity that frees us from the vanity of acquiring and of thinking that things are only good if they are good for me. Finally, Lent invites us to look inside our heart, with fasting, which frees us from attachment to things and from the worldliness that numbs the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that endures.

Jesus said: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass seeking its bearings. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be used become things we serve. Outward appearance, money, a career or hobby: if we live for them, they will become idols that enslave us, sirens that charm us and then cast us adrift. Whereas if our heart is attached to what does not pass away, we rediscover ourselves and are set free. Lent is the time of grace that liberates the heart from vanity. It is a time of healing from addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what abides.

Where can we fix our gaze, then, throughout this Lenten journey? It is simple: upon the Crucified one. Jesus on the cross is life’s compass, which directs us to heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his loving self-emptying show us the necessity of a simpler life, free from anxiety about things. From the cross, Jesus teaches us the great courage involved in renunciation. We will never move forward if we are heavily weighed down. We need to free ourselves from the clutches of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being satisfied, and from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus on the wood of the cross burns with love, and calls us to a life that is passionate for him, which is not lost amid the ashes of the world; to a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as he asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads us to our goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with the ashes, but eventually leads us to the fire of Easter night; to the discovery that, in the tomb, the body of Jesus does not turn to ashes, but rises gloriously. This is true also for us, who are dust. If we, with our weaknesses, return to the Lord, if we take the path of love, then we will embrace the life that never ends. And surely we will be full of joy.

[Pope Francis, homily 6 March 2019]

And the much yeast, which impoverishes

(Mk 8:14-21)

Jesus says one thing, the apostles understand another. The «leaven of the Pharisees and that of Herod» is a theme that alludes to the ideology of domination.

The disciples were close to Christ, because he was the character of the moment.

But enraptured by cheap illusions, they no longer listened to the Master, who was pursuing them.

Even today some followers do not feel like getting involved in things they do not want to know and would put them in shortage (v.14) - with the only possibility of fraternal sharing.

They seem unwilling to hear anything but proclamations of power, opulence, fame and imperial victory.

Their heads and their desires remain distant, engaged only in the validations of "swelling" and profit - despite appearances to the contrary.

They come to kidnap the Son of God for themselves, because they seem to have become exactly like the adversaries of the new Faith: hardened hearts (v.17) - eyes that do not look, ears that do not listen (v.18).

By moving away from him to turn willingly to the usual idolatries and pagan hopes.

Of course, there were confused ideas about the Messiah around - but all related to the [unfaithful] conception of ‘grandeur’.

But the authentic Messiah doesn’t want to reach an eminent position through contacts and deceptions, but rather to help needy and frightened humanity.

Many were waiting for a King, others for a high priest who was finally holy.

Some expected a guerrilla, or a healer;  others a judge or a prophet. No one a Servant.

Everyone reduced him to normal flattery, according to their interests - and class of belonging.

In fact, the very intimates of the Master showed themselves willing to go after any breeze of doctrine, as long as this could allow them to retain the treasures of the Kingdom.

Any title for the Messiah - religious, political, nationalist - could be tolerated, digested and made tameable... except the one that forced them to become servants of others.

The only uncomfortable presence.

Yet the prolonged absence of a prophetic spirit becomes the cause of many torments.

The inclination to coexistence and communion is missionary ‘truth’. Instrument for the redemption of all, starting with those who reach out to needy sisters and brothers.

By its nature and mandate, the small boat of the Church remains sent to all nations. ‘Salt of the earth’, ‘Light of the world’.

No believer must imagine himself exonerated.

Baptism has incorporated us, so that we are launched to cooperate - according to capacity and contexts.

A breath that cannot be interrupted or limited. Death would result.

In short, the Lord doesn’t ask us for marginal and nuanced behavior, but rather receptive and global ones.

Attitudes that affect the sense of history and its assets...

Because sharing the little «bread» doesn’t impoverish; rather, it enriches.

To internalize and live the message:

«They had ‘only one bread’ with them in the boat»: do you complain about it or do you evaluate its meaning?

[Tuesday 6th wk. in O.T.  February 17, 2026]

Dear friends, do not hesitate to follow Jesus Christ. In him we find the truth about God and about mankind. He helps us to overcome our selfishness, to rise above our ambitions and to conquer all that oppresses us. The one who does evil, who sins, becomes a slave of sin and will never attain freedom (cf. Jn 8:34). Only by renouncing hatred and our hard and blind hearts will we be free and a new life will well up in us.

Convinced that it is Christ who is the true measure of man, and knowing that in him we find the strength needed to face every trial, I wish to proclaim openly Jesus Christ as the way, the truth and the life. In him everyone will find complete freedom, the light to understand reality more deeply and to transform it by the renewing power of love.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Havana 28 March 2012]