28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [11 October 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (25:6–10a)

To describe the fulfilment of God’s plan, the prophet Isaiah chose the image of a banquet. This plan is a humanity finally at peace: sitting at the same table, sharing the same meal, celebrating together – a true image of peace. ‘The Lord of hosts will prepare for all peoples, on his mountain, a feast of rich food and choice wines, a feast of succulent meat and refined wines.’ It is a poetic and symbolic evocation: Isaiah is not seeking to give a realistic description of what will actually happen. He means that wars, suffering and injustices will come to an end, and all peoples will be celebrating. If this passage dates, as many believe, from during or after the Babylonian Exile, it is understandable why the dream of celebration is expressed through images of abundance. If the prophet considers it worthwhile to proclaim: “On that day it will be said: “Behold, this is our God; we have hoped in him, and he has saved us”, he probably does so to try to lift the spirits of his compatriots. And so we might translate it as: Take heart, my brothers and sisters; tell yourselves that in time you will not regret having placed your trust in him… and I will tell you how the story will end: we are walking slowly but surely towards the day of definitive peace. The only truly good reason to believe in this is that it is a promise from God: ‘The Lord has spoken’, says Isaiah. Here is the central phrase of the text that justifies the prophet’s unshakeable optimism – he who knows and has experienced God’s ceaseless work to liberate his people. One cannot be a prophet (or simply a witness to the faith) unless, in one way or another, one has a personal or collective experience of God’s work; and Israel takes care to continually nourish its faith through the remembrance of God’s work. And it is precisely because it never forgets this that it is able to endure times of trial. Just as God delivered his people from the bonds of Egypt, so he continues, down through the centuries, to deliver them; and mankind’s worst bonds are the inability to live in peace, to practise justice, and to remain in the Covenant with God. If God brings his work to fulfilment (and Isaiah has no doubt that he will), the day will come when all peoples will live in peace and in faithfulness to the Covenant. For it is he, the Lord, who has promised it.

There is, however, one phrase that remains difficult: ‘He will swallow up death for ever’. When we read this phrase today, we are tempted to interpret it in the light of our present Christian faith and thus to attribute to the prophet thoughts that were not his own. Only God knows, of course, what Isaiah had in mind, but it is highly unlikely that this passage constitutes an affirmation of the Resurrection in the Christian sense of the term; the people of Israel gradually came to discover, even before Christ, a belief in the resurrection of the body, but this was long after the Book of Isaiah had been definitively committed to writing. It is a truth that has become increasingly established over the centuries.

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

This psalm, known as the Psalm of the Good Shepherd, may seem like a simple pastoral image, but in reality it speaks of the fundamental themes of life: life and death, fear of enemies, and faith in God, which is stronger than any threat. It speaks of life within the Covenant with God: for the believer, only this relationship with God truly deserves the name ‘Life’, whilst a break with God represents ‘Death’. The ‘House of the Lord’ is the Temple in Jerusalem. Those who could truly say, ‘I shall dwell in the House of the Lord all the days of my life’, were the Levites, descendants of Levi. The tribe of Levi did not receive a territory like the other tribes of Israel, because it was consecrated to the service of worship. The Levites lived in the towns of the other tribes, received tithes and travelled to Jerusalem to take their turn in serving in the Temple, which they guarded day and night. The psalm therefore expresses the joy of a life completely consecrated to God: ‘Goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever’. However, the Levite also becomes a symbol of the experience of the whole people of Israel. Just as the Levite has a special place amongst the people of Israel, so Israel has a special role amongst the nations. God freely chose this people and offered them a Covenant. Israel acknowledges this choice with wonder and continually remembers what God did to deliver them from Egypt. Being the chosen people does not, however, mean selfishly enjoying God’s closeness. Israel is called to pave the way for other peoples, so that all humanity too may enter into intimacy with God. This ties in with Isaiah’s message: the banquet prepared by God on his mountain is intended for all peoples. In short, this Psalm teaches that God is the shepherd who accompanies and protects his people. Israel was chosen to live within the Covenant and to bear witness to God’s love before other nations. Ultimately, however, salvation and communion with God are intended for all humanity.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians (4:12–14, 19–20)

Paul writes to the Christians in Philippi whilst he is probably in prison in Ephesus, in the 50s AD. He thanks them for the financial aid they sent him via Epaphroditus. Paul explains that he has learnt to live in both poverty and abundance: he knows how to be full or hungry, to live in plenty or in want. His freedom from material possessions stems from his faith: ‘I can do all things through him who strengthens me’, that is, Christ. Paul is not ashamed to speak of money or to accept help when he needs it. True freedom does not mean pretending not to need material possessions, especially when so many people live in poverty. But are riches an opportunity or a risk? In this regard, the Bible presents three fundamental ideas: First of all, riches are a positive possibility: they are not evil in themselves and can be regarded as a gift from God when they enable one to live and enjoy one’s work. However, riches can become a risk: when they are accumulated for their own sake, they can turn into a form of slavery. An excessive desire to possess leads to a loss of freedom. Finally, the accumulation of wealth can create poverty: when some accumulate too much, others may be deprived of the necessary resources. This is why prophets, such as Amos and Isaiah, strongly criticise injustice and the hoarding of wealth. We must never forget that we are not owners, but stewards of the goods we have, both for ourselves and for others. During the Eucharist, the bread and wine represent all the riches of the earth and the work of humankind. In offering them, we are not simply giving something to God: we acknowledge that everything already belongs to Him and has been entrusted to us. In short: money and wealth are not evil in themselves. They become a problem when they enslave us, when they are hoarded selfishly, or when they lead to poverty and injustice. Christians are called to use them freely and responsibly, remembering that they are merely stewards of these things.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (22:1–14)

These two parables follow one another and, at first glance, do not seem to have much in common: the parable of the invitation to the wedding feast and that of the man turned away because he was not wearing wedding clothes. Some believe that, originally, these two parables were not connected: it would indeed seem contradictory to demand formal attire from someone who had been picked up off the street. But if Matthew deliberately placed them side by side, it means that we can draw a lesson from this connection. Let us examine them one by one. ‘A king was celebrating his son’s wedding.’ And this is not just any king, for right from the start we are told that we are speaking of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’: this expression alone immediately suggests to us that it concerns the Covenant between God and humanity, a Covenant fulfilled in Jesus Christ; in the Gospels, he presents himself as the bridegroom. Moreover, the word ‘wedding’ occurs seven times in this parable. This wedding symbolism is not very common in our Christian language today; yet it is precisely in these terms that the later texts of the Bible describe God’s plan for humanity. From the final prophecies of Isaiah right through to the Book of Revelation, via the Song of Songs and the Wisdom Literature, to name but a few, God’s love for humanity is described in terms of conjugal love. And it is precisely for this reason that Saint Paul says that marriage is ‘the best image of God’s relationship with humanity’.

In the Old Testament, it was clear that the proclamation and fulfilment of the universal salvation of humanity were to come through Israel. The chosen people had a mission for the whole of humanity. It is in this sense that we have learnt to interpret God’s words to Abraham: ‘All the families of the earth shall be blessed through you’ (Gen 12:3). Returning to the wedding analogy, we might say that the Jews were the first to be invited to the wedding; the host was counting on them to then extend the invitation and bring in, in their wake, the whole of humanity. But we know how it turned out: the vast majority of Jews refused to recognise Jesus as the Messiah. In the parable, they are represented by the guests who refuse to come to the wedding and even go so far as to mistreat the servants who had gone to summon them. What will happen? In the parable, the servants fill the banquet hall with guests summoned at the last moment. In the Letter to the Romans, Paul comments that this rejection by Israel will not only fail to prevent the wedding, but will actually facilitate the entry of all peoples into the banquet hall. ‘The servants went out into the streets, gathered everyone they found, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests’. Let us move on to the second parable: a man, invited at the last moment, enters without a wedding garment. He is utterly unable to answer the question: ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ He is then thrown out. This certainly does not mean that he had to meet a particular behavioural requirement, nor that the wedding garment symbolises any kind of merit. As soon as we speak of ‘merit’, we risk distorting the meaning of God’s grace, which by definition is free! With God, there are no conditions to fulfil. The first parable clearly states that everyone was allowed to enter, both the good and the bad. So, what might this second parable mean? Let us look at the crowd entering the wedding banquet hall. Whether good or bad, everyone was invited; everyone accepted and put on the wedding garment: they were able to welcome the unexpected invitation and prepare themselves.

Only one person did not deem it necessary to do so: he failed to appreciate the good fortune of this unhoped-for offer and to accept it with gratitude. When asked, ‘How did you manage to get in here without the wedding garment?’, he does not know what to say. A word of apology or repentance would have sufficed, but he remains silent. Failing to prepare for a banquet means attaching no importance to the invitation and showing contempt for the one who invites us. Ultimately, just like the first guests, he has sinned through indifference or presumption. In conclusion: the first virtue required of us is humility.

Commentary: The first guests refused the invitation and others took their place. Historically, this is precisely what happened. In the Acts of the Apostles we see the same scenario repeated several times: whenever Paul arrives in a new city, he first goes to the synagogue and proclaims to the Jews that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah. Some believe him and become Christians. However, when Paul’s preaching goes beyond the confines of the synagogue and even the pagans begin to become Christians, the Jews who have not been persuaded become frightened and drive Paul out. This is what happened in Antioch of Pisidia: ‘It was necessary to proclaim the word of God to you first. But since you reject it and do not consider yourselves worthy of eternal life, we turn to the pagan nations.’ The same thing subsequently happened in Iconium and Thessalonica. Precisely because the apostles were driven out from one city to another, the Gospel spread from one city to another. One of the lessons of the first parable is therefore that Israel’s rejection cannot permanently halt God’s plan. Just as prostitutes and tax collectors took the place of the religious authorities in Jesus’ time, so, a few years later, when Matthew was writing his Gospel, pagans entered the Church in great numbers precisely because of the rejection by some Jews.

God always manages to bring good out of evil. There is also another interpretation of the wedding garment. In New Testament language, the wedding garment is that of the baptised. We know, in fact, that what we today call the ‘baptismal garment’ is in reality a ‘wedding garment’. The second parable would therefore concern the baptised: it is they who have entered the wedding hall. But we know that you cannot judge a book by its cover. Here, Jesus would be reminding us of the demands that stem from our Baptism. As he himself says: ‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven’ (Mt 7:21).

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Everyone is called, but with which trousseau? Without artifices

(Mt 22:1-14)

The «wedding dress» (vv.11-12) is not here a figure of the our outside image, but of the essential -  of what really matters.

The Kingdom of God announced by Jesus does not admit personal and civil disregard [cf. Mt 21]. And the Banquet preached by the Master is not a Garden of Eden for a future in the afterlife, but a direct thread.

His Meal Table is the new condition into which the person who trusts his proposal is introduced.

But there are those who feel satiated, because they feel they already have enough for a life without too many problems.

It was the situation of the authorities, satisfied with the superabundant religious structure, which seemed to offer just social security, and certainty even before God.

All are called (v.14) to the Banquet, yet someone did not keep the white robe of Baptism in Christ. He has totally changed his outfit, and presents himself with the rags of ancient life.

Jesus resumes speaking with the leaders and confronts them without half measures, because He does not compare the Kingdom of the Father to a solemn assembly, but to a wedding feast!

In the simple, popular, immediate and playful frankness of a marriage there is a human reality characterizing the divine condition: the spontaneous Joy of genuine relations, face to face.

The proposal for a cheering novelty, however, is rejected. Self-sufficient and experienced venerate another master: interest. 

Opportunism cannot be an ingredient of the Sacred: profit turns people back on itself, closes their eyes, makes them unilateral, gloomy.

And despicable calculations lead the same people to destruction (v.7).

The background of the parable is the friction between Jews and converted pagans.

Considering themselves chosen - «elected» (v.14) - the former refused to break the Bread, share, catch up with the latter.

It is interesting however that the faithful servants, pushing pushing, stood out (backwards): in any circumstance they remained willing to enter "last" at the Banquet.

In short, the space opened by the self-exclusion of the nation called first would not have succeeded in putting an "end" to the efforts of those who have always fought for life and authenticity.

Fruiting trees do not like to prevaricate. They risk and occupy only the last place; being close to the uncertain, and encouraging them. 

Therefore at v.9 Mt invites us to go to the «outlets of the streets» [Greek text] ie in the existential suburbs where life is not obvious, but pulsates always new. Where you cannot remain indifferent.

The Greek term indicates the end of urban (reassuring) roads and the beginning of the paths poorly cared for and risky.

In Semitic mentality, they were the boundary of the pure territory and the threshold of precarious, contaminated places.

Not only that: God’s offer of love gathers first the "bad guys" [«wicked»: v.10 Greek text] to emphasize that Heaven is not ‘at points’.

It is available to the needy, to those who recognise themselves as such.

But everyone can be misdressed outside, not inside: that is, vigilant to the brothers, and diligent. We are called to abandon neglect and carelessness.

By Faith that incorporates us without conditions to the Bridegroom, the clean and sumptuous dress is always made available by the Landlord.

But wearing it is the result of a conscious choice, made its own: wanting «to give birth to a new world, where all of us are brothers and sisters, where there is room for all those whom our societies discard» [Fratelli Tutti (Fratelli Tutti), n. 278].

God's people cannot live in a parallel, disconnected, double world - as if the only God they worship is 'marketing and convenience'.

[28th Sunday in O.T.  October 11, 2026]

All are called, but with what attire? Without pretence

Mt 22:1–14 (1–21)

    The ‘wedding garment’ (vv. 11–12) is a symbol of what is essential – that which is indispensable, even if precarious, without any trappings of refinement.

‘“Each one of you, therefore, who has faith in God within the Church has already taken part in the wedding feast, but cannot claim to have the wedding garment unless you preserve the grace of Charity” (Homily 38,9: PL 76,1287). And this garment is symbolically woven from two pieces of wood, one above and the other below: the love of God and the love of neighbour (cf. ibid., 10: PL 76, 1288)’ (Gregory the Great; Pope Benedict, 9 October 2011).

The Kingdom of God proclaimed by Jesus differs from that imagined by the rabbis, whose doctrine could condone personal and civil negligence [e.g. merchants in the temple, the barren fig tree, objections to authority, murderous vineyard workers, and so on: Mt 21].

The Banquet preached by the Master is not a Garden of Eden prepared for a future in the hereafter, which in the meantime – albeit in flashes – might tolerate inauthenticity. Rather, it is a direct link.

His table, laid out with food, is the new state into which the person who trusts in his proposal of sharing is brought.

There are those who feel sated, because they believe they already possess enough for a life without too many problems – and so they adapt to any occasion, however petty.

Such was the situation of the authorities, satisfied with the overabundant religious structure, which seemed to offer adequate social security, and certainty even before God.

Instead (how shall I put it?): it is not enough to have one’s name recorded in the parish registers, and then to turn up in the rags of one’s former life.

Today, the rebirth from the global crisis calls for fundamental choices, for a radical change in mindset and reality.

We truly need to renew our ‘wardrobe’, that is, to base our choices on new values. 

It is time to become malleable once more, to reshape ourselves in the image of Christ, not to reject the changes that spur us on – to the point of building a shared life project and rebuilding the world around us.

Everyone is called (v. 14), yet some have not kept the little white robe of Baptism. They have, unfortunately, completely changed their attire – despite the fact that, in some cases, they preside over and defend the institution.

Jesus resumes speaking to the leaders and rebukes them without mincing his words, for he does not compare the Kingdom of the Father to one of their own liturgical assemblies—those well-organised gatherings of great authority, full of artifice… but rather to a wedding feast, without sacred banners!

In that festive simplicity, in the immediate and joyful candour of a wedding, there lies a human reality that characterises the divine condition: the spontaneous joy of frank, face-to-face relationships – now lost amidst the formalities of a religion that has become a habit.

This proposal for a joyful renewal is, however, rejected. The self-sufficient and the experts (who think they know it all) worship another master: self-interest.

Opportunism cannot be an ingredient of the Sacred: self-interest turns people in on themselves, blinds them, and makes them one-sided and gloomy.

It hands the Church over to the power brokers.

Jesus realises: everything that the shrewd and the theatre-loving were doing was for their own gain. In fact, they conceived of the Kingdom in an exclusive, pre-selected [and commercial, as usual] way.

As with the labourers of the last hour [Mt 20:1–16], the only currency for all is Christ himself. But the veterans, who consider themselves top of the class by right, have no interest in people’s happiness.

Thus, the fate of the Prophets was nothing more than the careless outcome of despicable calculations [in Luke 14:18–20, ‘perfectly ordinary’ daily duties] which, however, were leading the people to destruction (v. 7).

The backdrop to the parable is the friction between Jewish converts and Gentile converts.

Considering themselves the chosen ones – the ‘elect’ (v. 14) – the former refused to break bread, to share, and to place themselves on an equal footing with the latter.

It is interesting, however, that it was precisely the faithful servants who, when push came to shove, stood out in the opposite way: they were already recognised because, in any circumstance, they remained willing to enter the Banquet ‘last’.

In short, the space created by the self-exclusion of the people called first would not have succeeded in putting an ‘end’ to the efforts of those who have always fought for life and authenticity.

Fruit-bearing trees – as Jesus maintains, and as we see everywhere even today – do not like to dominate: they prefer to bear fruit, without opportunistic claims or envy.

They take risks and occupy only the last place; to be close to those who are uncertain, and to encourage them. 

So in verse 9, Matthew does not speak of going to the crossroads [CEI translation] but rather to the junctions of the roads [Greek text].

Pope Francis would say: in the existential peripheries, where life is not taken for granted, but is always pulsating with new life. There, where one cannot remain indifferent.

The Greek term indicates the end of (reassuring) urban streets and the beginning of neglected and perilous paths.

In the Semitic mindset, these were the boundary of the pure territory and the threshold of precarious, contaminated places.

Not only that: God’s offer of love gathers first and foremost the ‘wicked’ [‘evil’: v.10, Greek text] to emphasise that Heaven is not ‘by merit’.

It is available to the needy, to those who recognise themselves as such.

Yet everyone may be poorly dressed on the outside, but not on the inside: that is, vigilant towards their brother and diligent.

We are called to abandon neglect and indifference.

To avoid creating confusion regarding the Face of God and to prevent ruining the lives of the most committed, a change of mindset is needed within the Church.

A decisive replacement of principles and conveniences, overturning every pyramid-like ideology based on self-interest and power.

Through Faith, which unites us unconditionally to the Bridegroom, the clean and splendid garment is always provided by the Master of the House.

But wearing it is the result of a conscious choice, one we make our own: the desire to ‘give birth to a new world, where we are all brothers and sisters, where there is a place for every outcast’ [Fratelli Tutti, no. 278].

In other words, we will continue to endure the journey through a parallel world – at times even within our own communities – where everything is disconnected and duplicitous: the result of terrible indoctrination, corrupt choices and diabolical motives.

As if the only God worshipped were ‘marketing and convenience’.

To internalise and live out the message:

What do you consider diabolical and imagine might lead you astray from the spiritual path? Do you think of God in a serious light, or do you associate him with the joy of a wedding feast?

Restoring to God the image of true humanity. Which acronym?

(Mt 22:15–21)

Following the expulsion of the money-changers from the Temple, the challenge to his authority and the parables of the two sons, the murderous vineyard tenants and the rejected banquet (all of which referred to the elite), here is another clash between Jesus and the political and religious leaders – the latter remaining behind the scenes.

Jesus (in his own way) systematically dismantles the traps set by the leaders and the usual experts.

With well-honed duplicity, they approach Him, seeking to flatter His pride (v. 16: situations that often befall even critical witnesses).

The interests of the crafty, however, clash with Christ’s focus, which is entirely directed towards the genuine good of people and respect for the intelligence of things – not towards a craving for approval or opportunism.

It was precisely in the Temple (Mt 21:23) – the pre-eminent Dwelling Place of the one Lord God – that these officials provoked the new Rabbi over the payment of taxes to the Romans (22:17).

We know what was at stake: the accusation of not being a prophet according to divine law, or (conversely) that of collaboration with the occupiers.

The Master is not taken in by their ostentatious display of closeness to the God of Israel – a false display because it was sought from without – and he easily outwits them.

In the Temple of Jerusalem, it was forbidden to carry Roman coins, which bore imperial portraits and insignia (contrary to the Commandment ‘You shall not make for yourself any graven image’).

He asks them for one, however, because he actually had none. But it is precisely these pompous figures who hand one to him… The scene borders on the ridiculous.

By drawing the forbidden coin from the pouch concealed beneath their cloaks, the leaders themselves reveal their true god: self-interest (well hidden beneath deeply devout and ostentatious manners, which serve only as a smokescreen).

Christ urges us not to be flattered by the ostentatious duplicity of outward signs: what matters is not to deceive people by using pious forms as a mask for theatrics (v. 18, Greek text).

Fanatics of purity live only for the superficial; and they rely on it: not infrequently, they skilfully conceal the very material passions they disdain. With Christ, this does not work.

Each person is called to restore to their true Lord the indelible image and likeness that has been engraved within them. Let the coin, therefore, be returned to its owner.

Women and men – creatures in whom the image and likeness of God is imprinted – should return themselves in authenticity to the Creator (v. 21) who dwells in their very essence as persons.

Humanity is marked by a far more intimate and natural sense of belonging than mere convenience.

The Eucharist, gratuitousness and strangers: unheard of or marketing

(Luke 14:15–24)

    Jesus does not compare the Kingdom of the Father to a solemn assembly, but to a great Banquet!

Yet this proposal for joyful renewal is rejected. The self-sufficient and the self-important have other commitments and interests…

After the destruction of the Temple, the leadership of the synagogues was taken over by the Pharisees, who had survived the disaster because their traditionalism lacked explicit political-nationalist undertones.

Indeed, they believed that the expectation of the Messiah had nothing to do with the struggle against Rome; in this respect, they seemed to be in agreement with the Christians.

But they constantly demanded that their followers strictly observe the rules that defined traditional Jewish religion.

After the year 70, this insistence led them to an increasingly obsessive condemnation of Jews who had converted to the Lord Jesus – and, by the end of the century, to their expulsion from the synagogues.

The fundamentalist religious leaders thus ended up socially marginalising even those faithful to the younger Messiah, who were guilty of neglecting the distinctions between the customs of Israel and those of other peoples.

In the communities described in Luke’s Gospel, the situation was less divisive, but equally vivid.

Those who had converted to faith in Christ came largely from pagan backgrounds; despite differences in cultural background and social class, they lived out here and there [without those purist ideological biases] the ideal of sharing and communion, including the sharing of material goods.

The invitation to take part in the Feast was initially extended to the children of Israel, who still likened the messianic age to a great Banquet, characterised by gratitude and (internal) brotherhood.

But the difficulties in broadening the criteria for communion stemmed precisely from those who had converted from Judaism, who, through long-standing practice, retained the custom of not sharing food with outsiders; hence the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread.

Within the context of their customs and the sacred laws set out in the Torah (Deut 20:5–7), the behaviour of those who refused the invitation in the parable of the Banquet (vv. 18–20) was legitimate from the point of view of recognised law – though not from that of friendship.

It is to emphasise the significance of the gesture that the host of the feast instructs his servants to gather precisely those who were socially excluded from the ancient religion, because they were considered impure: the pagans. Open to hope.

Christ continues to draw a dividing line between those who advocate an order and ideals that are untouchable and above human reality, and those who, being on the periphery, are always willing to take part in the Feast.

They are not the sort who are ‘all preoccupied with ritual’, with manners, with appearances; but with the life they radiate.

The latter do not allow themselves to be influenced by privileges, their own possessions, or laws: they give without keeping a double-entry account, they accept with natural readiness; they rejoice in reality and not in the distinction between the sacred and the profane. They do not think they already have the answer, and they do not end up becoming slaves to it.

Jesus’ teaching invites us not to limit our affections and not to let our hearts become weighed down by customs, by a particular or prevailing mindset, by legalistic constraints – or by ‘all sorts of things’.

In the assembly of the children, it is not the well-off [serious people, full of commitments, who have no time to spare, with too many possessions and invitations to manage] but the lowly folk… who take centre stage… despite their limited abilities.

All this is because a characteristic of the Little Ones and the destitute is their willingness to cross boundaries: this is what makes them capable of heeding God’s call.

Those who are far away – though in dire straits – fill the Father’s house.

In society, the poor are just one among many, but the invitation to the table conveys to them a sense of values that do not stifle life with pettiness, and fosters bonds; indeed, the destitute often have a better understanding of divine and human matters.

This ever-increasing awareness of our likeness to the Son of God is accentuated by the lack of ‘adequate’ means: a scarcity that makes things true, that prompts others to reflect – whilst remaining unremarkable, incapable of causing a stir.

Such an intimate, luminous, transfiguring awareness pales and fades in the maelstrom of legalism and cultural conventions.

It seems to wane amidst the dizzying proliferation of activities – activities which do not reform: they render us detached and conditioned by the advantages of worldly-sacred security, which is, unfortunately, monopolistic.

A compulsory banquet would not be a Banquet… it is certainly not a Feast, a Gift to be cherished – confused with advantages or perfections [a dreadful misinterpretation by stubborn, observant circles].

For this reason, many prefer their own particular purgatory to the Heaven on earth that the Father offers.

Our solidarity is not a matter of sympathy, shared interests or a sense of camaraderie, but rather the result of a far-reaching Call, of a single, powerful Life that flows through us all, respecting our freedom and reality – as well as the stages of change.

To paraphrase the encyclical *Fratelli Tutti* (nos. 13–15, passim), in accordance with the passage from Luke, we must remain vigilant so as not to impoverish the life of Faith, transforming it into a detached commitment to ‘cultural colonisation’.

If this were the case, even the universal-Catholic horizon of a conviviality of differences would dissolve into an invitation that is overly standardised, utterly predictable, and ultimately barren.

A rigid or self-serving rejection of the Banquet would bring with it – as we see before our very eyes – the ‘further disintegration’ of ‘critical thinking’, of action ‘for justice’, and of its ‘paths to integration’.

Even ecclesial society, in fact, may run the risk of ‘distorting grand ideals’, ‘risking impoverishment’; and thus ‘sinking into the tyranny of the strongest’ and ‘mere ephemeral marketing formulas, which find their most effective resource in the destruction of the other’.

But the people of God cannot live in a parallel, disconnected and dual world – as if the one Eternal One they worship were merely a jumble of cunning, marketing and expediency.

To internalise and live out the message:

What does the Eucharist convey in your church community or group? What particular and special invitation does it convey?

2. Jesus says: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who gave a wedding feast for his son” (Mt 22:2). The parable of the wedding feast presents the Kingdom of God as a royal – and therefore sovereign – initiative of God himself. It also includes the theme of love, and specifically spousal love: the son for whom the father prepares the wedding feast is the bridegroom.

Although the bride is not named in this parable, the circumstances indicate her presence and make it clear who she is. This will become evident in other New Testament texts, which identify the Church with the Bride (Jn 3:29; Rev 21:9; 2 Cor 11:2; Eph 5:23–27, 29).

3. On the other hand, the parable clearly identifies the Bridegroom as Christ, who brings about the Father’s New Covenant with humanity. This is a covenant of love, and the very Kingdom of God appears as a communion (a community of love), which the Son brings about according to the Father’s will. The ‘banquet’ is the expression of this communion. Within the context of the economy of salvation described by the Gospel, it is not difficult to recognise in this wedding banquet a reference to the Eucharist: the sacrament of the new and eternal Covenant, the sacrament of Christ’s nuptial union with humanity in the Church.

4. Although the Church as Bride is not named in the parable, other elements are found within its context that echo what the Gospel tells us about the Church as the Kingdom of God. Such is the universality of the divine invitation: ‘The King said to his servants, “Invite everyone you find to the wedding feast”’ (Mt 22:9).

Among those invited to the Son’s wedding feast are missing those who were chosen first: those who were to be guests according to the tradition of the Old Covenant. They refuse to attend the feast of the New Covenant, giving various excuses. Then Jesus has the King, the host, say: ‘Many are called, but few are chosen’ (Mt 22:14). In their place, the invitation is extended to many others, who crowd into the banquet hall. This detail brings to mind that other warning Jesus had spoken: ‘I tell you that many will come from the east and the west and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, whilst the sons of the kingdom will be thrown out’ (Mt 8:11–12). Here we can clearly see how the invitation becomes universal: God intends to establish the New Covenant in his Son, no longer with the chosen people alone, but with the whole of humanity.

5. The rest of the parable indicates that definitive participation in the wedding feast is linked to certain essential conditions. It is not enough to have entered the Church to be assured of eternal salvation: ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ (Mt 22:12), the King asks one of the guests. The parable, which at this point seems to shift from the issue of the historical rejection of the election by the people of Israel to the individual behaviour of anyone who is called and to the judgement that will be passed on them, does not specify the meaning of that ‘garment’. But it can be said that the explanation is to be found in the entirety of Christ’s teaching. The Gospel, in particular the Sermon on the Mount, speaks of the commandment of love, which is the principle of divine life and of perfection in the image of the Father: “Be . . . perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). This is the ‘new commandment’ which, as Jesus teaches, consists in this: ‘As I have loved you, so you also must love one another’ (Jn 13:34). It therefore seems we may conclude that the ‘wedding garment’, as a condition for taking part in the banquet, is precisely this love.

This is confirmed by another great parable, concerning the Last Judgement, and therefore of an eschatological nature. Only those who put the commandment of love into practice through spiritual and corporal works of mercy towards their neighbour may take part in the banquet of the Kingdom of God: “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world” (Matthew 25:34).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 18 September 1991]

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to us about the response given to the invitation from God — who is represented by a king — to participate in a wedding banquet (cf. Mt 22:1-14). The invitation has three characteristics: freely offered, breadth and universality. Many people were invited, but something surprising happened: none of the intended guests came to take part in the feast, saying they had other things to do; indeed, some were even indifferent, impertinent, even annoyed. God is good to us, he freely offers us his friendship, he freely offers us his joy, his salvation; but so often we do not accept his gifts, we place our practical concerns, our interests first. And when the Lord is calling to us, it so often seems to annoy us. 

Some of the intended guests went so far as to abuse and kill the servants who delivered the invitation. But despite the lack of response from those called, God’s plan is never interrupted. In facing the rejection of the first invitees, He is not discouraged, He does not cancel the feast, but makes another invitation, expanding it beyond all reasonable limits, and sends his servants into the town squares and the byways to gather anyone they find. These, however, are ordinary, poor, neglected and marginalized people, good and bad alike — even bad people are invited — without distinction. And the hall is filled with “the excluded”. The Gospel, rejected by some, is unexpectedly welcomed in many other hearts.

The goodness of God has no bounds and does not discriminate against anyone. For this reason the banquet of the Lord’s gifts is universal, for everyone. Everyone is given the opportunity to respond to the invitation, to his call; no one has the right to feel privileged or to claim an exclusive right. All of this induces us to break the habit of conveniently placing ourselves at the centre, as did the High Priests and the Pharisees. One must not do this; we must open ourselves to the peripheries, also acknowledging that, at the margins too, even one who is cast aside and scorned by society is the object of God’s generosity. We are all called not to reduce the Kingdom of God to the confines of the “little church” — our “tiny little church” — but to enlarge the Church to the dimensions of the Kingdom of God. However, there is one condition: wedding attire must be worn, that is, charity toward God and neighbour must be shown.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 12 October 2014]

Brethren all and ourselves

(Lk 11:27-28)

In ancient mentality, the joy of the mother was the full-blown greatness of the son.

Jesus contests that the authenticity of Bliss may be linked to relations of clans and physical kinship, or to social clamour.

The Lord dismantles every outward appearance. He rejects this crude way of conceiving the fortune of life.

Full Happiness depends on the perception of one’s essential roots, and the precious uniqueness that we are - it does not come to us by social tracing, or by the type of belonging that has always been.

It is precisely here that the Word of God introduces us into the understanding of the unrepeatable reason why we were born, and drags us in an integral energetic way; making us new every day.

The Word lives in our Eternal side; it is beyond time, and it seems to make us become strangers. Yet it is not a disharmonious rival.

As we travel to the Goal we do not know, we advance with it. Without definitions first.

Thus the brothers; each in the unfolded and original Word, for growth. Without judgments first.

Sacred Scripture is the key to reading the facts; an Event that crosses us, and at the same time a sort of genetic code.

Intuition and nose for things that allows everyone to relive Christ in a serene and trusting way, despite any worn-out sides of the personality.

Every joy of human relations in the home thus becomes a platform for our leap towards the wider human Family. A wonder.

In this Exodus, particular affections are gradually integrated by discoveries, by an unexpected mission, by the qualitative life of universal sharing.

«Blessed rather are those who listen to the Word of God and guard [it]» (v.28).

Mary generated the Messiah, but - even more - she made the Word uncommon Person.

His true title of glory - what matters about Her - is to have been able to accept the proposal of a path of growth that has rewritten all expectations and history.

In their processes, the secret life with God and the codes of the soul acquire breath and enjoy the loss of already recognized advantages.

In this way, even in devotion to the Mother of God, we want to recognize the value of a journey in progress. 

The ability to field unusual sides, distinct characters; make room inside, then generate and feed them.

Often, in fact, costumes or fixed beliefs do not unlock difficult situations, nor allow to activate transformational turns.

They become slipknot laces.

Conversely, the Way of Exodus in the Lord gives an experience of discovery, and revival of virtues to which we have not yet given complete flowering.

Just like for the Mother: in integral Joy, not through quietisms - nor with rivalries that distance us away from brethren all and from ourselves.

[Saturday 27th wk.  in O.T.  October 10, 2026]

Brothers all and ourselves

(Lk 11:27-28)

"At first attachment may look like love, but as it develops it becomes more and more clearly the opposite, characterised by clinging, holding back, fear" (Jack Kornfield).

In the ancient mentality, the joy of the mother was the proclaimed greatness of the son.

Jesus disputes that the authenticity of the Beatitude can be linked to clan relationships and physical kinship, or to social impressions.

The Lord dismantles all externality. He rejects this crude way of conceiving the blessedness of life.

One is not happy because of an illustrious surname or blood. Even being the nephew of a cardinal or king would mean nothing.

Full Happiness depends on the perception of one's essential roots and the precious uniqueness that we are - it does not come to us from a tribe, from social recollection, or because we have always belonged.

It is here that the Word of God introduces us into an understanding of the unique reason why we were born, and draws us into integral energy; making us new every day.

The Word lives in our Eternal side; it is beyond time, and seems to make us foreign. Yet it is not a disharmonious rival.

Travelling towards the Goal we do not know, we advance with it. Without definitions first.

Thus the brothers; each in the unfolded and original Word, for growth. Without judgments first.

Sacred Scripture is a key to reading events; an event that passes through us and at the same time a kind of genetic code.

Sense that allows each one to relive Christ in a serene and confident manner, despite any frayed sides of the personality.

Every joy of human relationships in the home thus becomes a platform for our leap towards the larger human family. An astonishment.

In such an exodus, particular affections are gradually supplemented by discovery, by an unthinking mission, by the qualitative and blissful life of universal sharing.

Mary generated the Messiah, but even more she made the Word an uncommon Person.

Her true title to glory - what is worthy of her - is having been able to accept the proposal of a path of growth that rewrote expectations and history.

Those who cling to the more ordinary aspects of material existence, or of consortia - and to the all-too-poor assurances [to which we gladly cling, however] - risk entering into a terrible crisis when so many assurances crumble.

The personal and social difference between mediocre religiosity and the ideal trajectory of faith?

In their trials, the secret life with God and the codes of the soul gain breath and enjoy the loss of already recognised advantages!

"Blessed rather are those who hear the Word of God and [keep it]" (v.28).

Blessedness', fullness of being and humanisation, demands a detachment from habitual situations, even of small parental ties - to which we cling.

Sometimes even institutional 'charisma' (or 'kinship') prejudices come to naught.

Customary manners, routine domestications, so many imprisoned emotions, but also group codes... can be an obstacle to the development and flowering of the inner seed that belongs to us.

Thus, even in the devotion to Mary we want to recognise the value of a journey in progress.

We wish to grasp how to welcome the Vocation - be it individual, relationship, community, and the Logos of God itself.

And how to try to understand them in depth, letting them shape our destination.

Let us then seek how to make space within, respecting the distinct characters.

In addition, precisely by re-weaving the knots of being, we might guess how to re-weave the identity-personal character with creative input.

How then to give birth to the other as it proceeds. How to suckle it and nourish it with gradually more solid food, and accompany it, support it.

Finally, how to radiate it, so that it also overflows and unleashes around it the Spirit of Life that ennobles creaturely dignity - exalting its aspirations.

Ancient piety referred to a project of unilateral coexistence, which nevertheless nourished the individual soul in an intimate way.

But sometimes too much 'knowing how to be in the world' [around] did not bring out the unusual sides, which also demanded space.

This also applies to us; especially in times of global crisis.

Avoiding what is surprising does not build communion in the epochal Newness of the divine Spirit: that is, conviviality of differences.

Well, although situated in an era of emergency, the wide-ranging hazard of Faith instead proposes to us a 'fire' of life, of passion.

Here is an alternative intoxication, truly satisfying. A brio that overcomes tacit, suffocating convictions.

Faith's life wants precisely to break the conformist uniformity and its trance of blocks, languages and ties (a slipknot).Conformities or opinions that do not unblock difficult situations, nor enable transformational breakthroughs.

They become [it is worth repeating] slipknots.

Conversely, the Way of Exodus in the Lord gives an experience of discovery and revival of virtues to which we have not yet fully blossomed.

As with the Blessed Mother: in integral Joy, not through quietisms - nor with revenge that distances us from our 'brothers and sisters' and from ourselves.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you feel that your personal story still lies in death, and is not yet redeemed by an Easter victory?

For what reason?

To what full Hope or idea of fortune - to what and to Whom - are you attached?

Or do you allow yourself to be seduced by quietisms, manipulators, and winning mindsets?

Moreover, that Light deep within the shepherd children, which comes from the future of God, is the same Light which was manifested in the fullness of time and came for us all: the Son of God made man. He has the power to inflame the coldest and saddest of hearts, as we see in the case of the disciples on the way to Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:32). Henceforth our hope has a real foundation, it is based on an event which belongs to history and at the same time transcends history: Jesus of Nazareth. The enthusiasm roused by his wisdom and his saving power among the people of that time was such that a woman in the midst of the crowd – as we heard in the Gospel – cried out: “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that nursed you!”. And Jesus said: “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it!” (Lk 11:27-28). But who finds time to hear God’s word and to let themselves be attracted by his love? Who keeps watch, in the night of doubt and uncertainty, with a heart vigilant in prayer? Who awaits the dawn of the new day, fanning the flame of faith? Faith in God opens before us the horizon of a sure hope, one which does not disappoint; it indicates a solid foundation on which to base one’s life without fear; it demands a faith-filled surrender into the hands of the Love which sustains the world.

“Their descendants shall be known among the nations, […] they are a people whom the Lord has blessed” (Is 61:9) with an unshakable hope which bears fruit in a love which sacrifices for others, yet does not sacrifice others. Rather, as we heard in the second reading, this love “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor 13:7). An example and encouragement is to be found in the shepherd children, who offered their whole lives to God and shared them fully with others for love of God. Our Lady helped them to open their hearts to universal love. Blessed Jacinta, in particular, proved tireless in sharing with the needy and in making sacrifices for the conversion of sinners.  Only with this fraternal and generous love will we succeed in building the civilization of love and peace.

[Pope Benedict, homily at Fatima 13 May 2010]

20. The Gospel of Luke records the moment when "a woman in the crowd raised her voice" and said to Jesus: "Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked!" (Lk. 11:27) These words were an expression of praise of Mary as Jesus' mother according to the flesh. Probably the Mother of Jesus was not personally known to this woman; in fact, when Jesus began his messianic activity Mary did not accompany him but continued to remain at Nazareth. One could say that the words of that unknown woman in a way brought Mary out of her hiddenness.

Through these words, there flashed out in the midst of the crowd, at least for an instant, the gospel of Jesus' infancy. This is the gospel in which Mary is present as the mother who conceives Jesus in her womb, gives him birth and nurses him: the nursing mother referred to by the woman in the crowd. Thanks to this motherhood, Jesus, the Son of the Most High (cf. Lk. 1:32), is a true son of man. He is "flesh," like every other man: he is "the Word (who) became flesh" (cf. Jn. 1:14). He is of the flesh and blood of Mary!43

But to the blessing uttered by that woman upon her who was his mother according to the flesh, Jesus replies in a significant way: "Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it" (Lk. 11:28). He wishes to divert attention from motherhood understood only as a fleshly bond, in order to direct it towards those mysterious bonds of the spirit which develop from hearing and keeping God's word.

This same shift into the sphere of spiritual values is seen even more clearly in another response of Jesus reported by all the Synoptics. When Jesus is told that "his mother and brothers are standing outside and wish to see him," he replies: "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it" (cf. Lk. 8:20-21). This he said "looking around on those who sat about him," as we read in Mark (3:34) or, according to Matthew (12:49), "stretching out his hand towards his disciples."

These statements seem to fit in with the reply which the twelve- year-old Jesus gave to Mary and Joseph when he was found after three days in the Temple at Jerusalem.

Now, when Jesus left Nazareth and began his public life throughout Palestine, he was completely and exclusively "concerned with his Father's business" (cf. Lk. 2:49). He announced the Kingdom: the "Kingdom of God" and "his Father's business," which add a new dimension and meaning to everything human, and therefore to every human bond, insofar as these things relate to the goals and tasks assigned to every human being. Within this new dimension, also a bond such as that of "brotherhood" means something different from "brotherhood according to the flesh" deriving from a common origin from the same set of parents. "Motherhood," too, in the dimension of the Kingdom of God and in the radius of the fatherhood of God himself, takes on another meaning. In the words reported by Luke, Jesus teaches precisely this new meaning of motherhood.

Is Jesus thereby distancing himself from his mother according to the flesh? Does he perhaps wish to leave her in the hidden obscurity which she herself has chosen? If this seems to be the case from the tone of those words, one must nevertheless note that the new and different motherhood which Jesus speaks of to his disciples refers precisely to Mary in a very special way. Is not Mary the first of "those who hear the word of God and do it"? And therefore does not the blessing uttered by Jesus in response to the woman in the crowd refer primarily to her? Without any doubt, Mary is worthy of blessing by the very fact that she became the mother of Jesus according to the flesh ("Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked"), but also and especially because already at the Annunciation she accepted the word of God, because she believed it, because she was obedient to God, and because she "kept" the word and "pondered it in her heart" (cf. Lk. 1:38, 45; 2:19, 51) and by means of her whole life accomplished it. Thus we can say that the blessing proclaimed by Jesus is not in opposition, despite appearances, to the blessing uttered by the unknown woman, but rather coincides with that blessing in the person of this Virgin Mother, who called herself only "the handmaid of the Lord" (Lk. 1:38). If it is true that "all generations will call her blessed" (cf. Lk. 1:48), then it can be said that the unnamed woman was the first to confirm unwittingly that prophetic phrase of Mary's Magnificat and to begin the Magnificat of the ages.

If through faith Mary became the bearer of the Son given to her by the Father through the power of the Holy Spirit, while preserving her virginity intact, in that same faith she discovered and accepted the other dimension of motherhood revealed by Jesus during his messianic mission. One can say that this dimension of motherhood belonged to Mary from the beginning, that is to say from the moment of the conception and birth of her Son. From that time she was "the one who believed." But as the messianic mission of her Son grew clearer to her eyes and spirit, she herself as a mother became ever more open to that new dimension of motherhood which was to constitute her "part" beside her Son. Had she not said from the very beginning: "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word" (Lk. 1:38)? Through faith Mary continued to hear and to ponder that word, in which there became ever clearer, in a way "which surpasses knowledge" (Eph. 3:19), the self-revelation of the living God. Thus in a sense Mary as Mother became the first "disciple" of her Son, the first to whom he seemed to say: "Follow me," even before he addressed this call to the Apostles or to anyone else (cf. Jn. 1:43).

[Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater]