This is an episode from which the Fathers of the Church drew a great wealth of meaning. The sea symbolizes this life and the instability of the visible world; the storm points to every kind of trial or difficulty that oppresses human beings. The boat, instead, represents the Church, built by Christ and steered by the Apostles.

Jesus wanted to teach the disciples to bear life’s adversities courageously, trusting in God, in the One who revealed himself to the Prophet Elijah on Mount Horeb “in a still small voice” [the whispering of a gentle breeze] (1 Kings 19:12) […]

If we look only at ourselves we become dependent on the winds and can no longer pass through storms on the waters of life. The great thinker Romano Guardini wrote that the Lord “is always close, being at the root of our being. Yet we must experience our relationship with God between the poles of distance and closeness. By closeness we are strengthened, by distance we are put to the test” (Accettare se stessi, Brescia 1992, 71).

Dear friends, the experience of the Prophet Elijah who heard God passing and the troubled faith of the Apostle Peter enable us to understand that even before we seek the Lord or invoke him, it is he himself who comes to meet us, who lowers Heaven to stretch out his hand to us and raise us to his heights; all he expects of us is that we trust totally in him, that we really take hold of his hand.

Let us call on the Virgin Mary, model of total entrustment to God, so that amidst the plethora of anxieties, problems and difficulties which churn up the sea of our life, may our hearts resonate with the reassuring words of Jesus who also says to us “Take heart, it is I; have no fear!”; and may our faith in him grow.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 7 August 2011]

The storm calmed on the Lake of Genesaret can be reread as a "sign" of Christ's constant presence in the "boat" of the Church, which many times throughout history is exposed to the fury of the winds during stormy hours. Jesus, awakened by the disciples, commands the winds and the sea to be becalmed. Then he says to them: "Why are you so fearful? Have you no faith yet?" (Mk 4:40). In this, as in other episodes, one can see Jesus' will to inculcate in the apostles and disciples faith in his operative and protective presence even in the stormiest hours of history, in which doubt about his divine assistance could infiltrate the spirit. In fact, in Christian homiletics and spirituality the miracle has often been interpreted as a "sign" of the presence of Jesus and a guarantee of trust in him on the part of Christians and the Church.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 2 December 1987]

“When evening had come” [...] For weeks now it has been evening. Thick darkness has gathered over our squares, our streets and our cities; it has taken over our lives, filling everything with a deafening silence and a distressing void, that stops everything as it passes by; we feel it in the air, we notice in people’s gestures, their glances give them away. We find ourselves afraid and lost. Like the disciples in the Gospel we were caught off guard by an unexpected, turbulent storm. We have realized that we are on the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together, each of us in need of comforting the other. On this boat… are all of us. Just like those disciples, who spoke anxiously with one voice, saying “We are perishing” (v. 38), so we too have realized that we cannot go on thinking of ourselves, but only together can we do this.

It is easy to recognize ourselves in this story. What is harder to understand is Jesus’ attitude. While his disciples are quite naturally alarmed and desperate, he is in the stern, in the part of the boat that sinks first. And what does he do? In spite of the tempest, he sleeps on soundly, trusting in the Father; this is the only time in the Gospels we see Jesus sleeping. When he wakes up, after calming the wind and the waters, he turns to the disciples in a reproaching voice: “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” (v. 40).

Let us try to understand. In what does the lack of the disciples’ faith consist, as contrasted with Jesus’ trust? They had not stopped believing in him; in fact, they called on him. But we see how they call on him: “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” (v. 38). Do you not care: they think that Jesus is not interested in them, does not care about them. One of the things that hurts us and our families most when we hear it said is: “Do you not care about me?” It is a phrase that wounds and unleashes storms in our hearts. It would have shaken Jesus too. Because he, more than anyone, cares about us. Indeed, once they have called on him, he saves his disciples from their discouragement.

The storm exposes our vulnerability and uncovers those false and superfluous certainties around which we have constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities. It shows us how we have allowed to become dull and feeble the very things that nourish, sustain and strengthen our lives and our communities. The tempest lays bare all our prepackaged ideas and forgetfulness of what nourishes our people’s souls; all those attempts that anesthetize us with ways of thinking and acting that supposedly “save” us, but instead prove incapable of putting us in touch with our roots and keeping alive the memory of those who have gone before us. We deprive ourselves of the antibodies we need to confront adversity.

In this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about our image, has fallen away, uncovering once more that (blessed) common belonging, of which we cannot be deprived: our belonging as brothers and sisters.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, your word this evening strikes us and regards us, all of us. In this world, that you love more than we do, we have gone ahead at breakneck speed, feeling powerful and able to do anything. Greedy for profit, we let ourselves get caught up in things, and lured away by haste. We did not stop at your reproach to us, we were not shaken awake by wars or injustice across the world, nor did we listen to the cry of the poor or of our ailing planet. We carried on regardless, thinking we would stay healthy in a world that was sick. Now that we are in a stormy sea, we implore you: “Wake up, Lord!”.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith. Which is not so much believing that you exist, but coming to you and trusting in you. This Lent your call reverberates urgently: “Be converted!”, “Return to me with all your heart” (Joel 2:12). You are calling on us to seize this time of trial as a time of choosing. It is not the time of your judgement, but of our judgement: a time to choose what matters and what passes away, a time to separate what is necessary from what is not. It is a time to get our lives back on track with regard to you, Lord, and to others. We can look to so many exemplary companions for the journey, who, even though fearful, have reacted by giving their lives. This is the force of the Spirit poured out and fashioned in courageous and generous self-denial. It is the life in the Spirit that can redeem, value and demonstrate how our lives are woven together and sustained by ordinary people – often forgotten people – who do not appear in newspaper and magazine headlines nor on the grand catwalks of the latest show, but who without any doubt are in these very days writing the decisive events of our time: doctors, nurses, supermarket employees, cleaners, caregivers, providers of transport, law and order forces, volunteers, priests, religious men and women and so very many others who have understood that no one reaches salvation by themselves. In the face of so much suffering, where the authentic development of our peoples is assessed, we experience the priestly prayer of Jesus: “That they may all be one” (Jn 17:21). How many people every day are exercising patience and offering hope, taking care to sow not panic but a shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday gestures, how to face up to and navigate a crisis by adjusting their routines, lifting their gaze and fostering prayer. How many are praying, offering and interceding for the good of all. Prayer and quiet service: these are our victorious weapons.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”?Faith begins when we realise we are in need of salvation. We are not self-sufficient; by ourselves we founder: we need the Lord, like ancient navigators needed the stars. Let us invite Jesus into the boats of our lives. Let us hand over our fears to him so that he can conquer them. Like the disciples, we will experience that with him on board there will be no shipwreck. Because this is God’s strength: turning to the good everything that happens to us, even the bad things. He brings serenity into our storms, because with God life never dies.

The Lord asks us and, in the midst of our tempest, invites us to reawaken and put into practice that solidarity and hope capable of giving strength, support and meaning to these hours when everything seems to be floundering. The Lord awakens so as to reawaken and revive our Easter faith. We have an anchor: by his cross we have been saved. We have a rudder: by his cross we have been redeemed. We have a hope: by his cross we have been healed and embraced so that nothing and no one can separate us from his redeeming love. In the midst of isolation when we are suffering from a lack of tenderness and chances to meet up, and we experience the loss of so many things, let us once again listen to the proclamation that saves us: he is risen and is living by our side. The Lord asks us from his cross to rediscover the life that awaits us, to look towards those who look to us, to strengthen, recognize and foster the grace that lives within us. Let us not quench the wavering flame (cf. Is 42:3) that never falters, and let us allow hope to be rekindled.

Embracing his cross means finding the courage to embrace all the hardships of the present time, abandoning for a moment our eagerness for power and possessions in order to make room for the creativity that only the Spirit is capable of inspiring. It means finding the courage to create spaces where everyone can recognize that they are called, and to allow new forms of hospitality, fraternity and solidarity. By his cross we have been saved in order to embrace hope and let it strengthen and sustain all measures and all possible avenues for helping us protect ourselves and others. Embracing the Lord in order to embrace hope: that is the strength of faith, which frees us from fear and gives us hope.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”?Dear brothers and sisters, from this place that tells of Peter’s rock-solid faith, I would like this evening to entrust all of you to the Lord, through the intercession of Mary, Health of the People and Star of the stormy Sea. From this colonnade that embraces Rome and the whole world, may God’s blessing come down upon you as a consoling embrace. Lord, may you bless the world, give health to our bodies and comfort our hearts. You ask us not to be afraid. Yet our faith is weak and we are fearful. But you, Lord, will not leave us at the mercy of the storm. Tell us again: “Do not be afraid” (Mt 28:5). And we, together with Peter, “cast all our anxieties onto you, for you care about us” (cf. 1 Pet 5:7).

[Pope Francis, extraordinary moment of prayer 27 March 2020]

The simple Mystery, New Mysticism. Vocation to offer to the world

(Jn 6:1-15)

«Man is a limited being who is himself limitless» (Fratelli Tutti [Brethren All] n.150).

In our hearts we have a great longing for fulfilment and Happiness. The Father has introduced it, He Himself satisfies it - but He wants us to be associated with His work - inside and outside.

The Son reflects God's plan in His compassion for crowds in need of everything and - despite the plethora of teachers and experts - lacking any authentic teaching.

His ‘solution’ is very different from that of all spiritual guides, because He does not overfly us with an external, indirect paternalism (vv.5-6) that wipes away tears, heals wounds, erases humiliation.

He invites us to make use of what we are and have, even though it may seem ridiculous (v.9).

But He teaches in no uncertain terms that shifting energies produces prodigious results.

This is how we respond to the world's great problems: by recovering the condition of the 'viator' man - being of passage.

And by sharing goods; not, letting each person be left to his own devices and make do.

Our crude nakedness, the vicissitudes, and the experience of our many brothers and sisters, who are different, are resources not to be evaluated with distrust «as competitors or dangerous enemies» of our realisation [FT n.152].

Not only will the little we take with us be enough to satiate us, but it will advance for others and with identical Fullness of truth, human, epochal (vv.12-13).

In short, in Christ, everyone can usher in a new Time, and Salvation is already at hand, because people spontaneously gather around Him, coming as they are, with the burden of so many different needs (v.2).

The new people of God are not a crowd of chosen and pure people.

Everyone brings with them problems, which the Lord heals - but taking care of them not by proxy, as if from above or from the outside.

In this way another world is possible, but through the «breaking» of one's own even meagre ‘bread and breadcrumbs’.

Authentic solution, if we bring it out «from inside» and being «in the midst» - not at the front, not ‘at the top’.

The place of Revelation was to be the place of “thunderbolts”, on a ‘mount’ smoking like a furnace (Ex 19:18). But finally even Elijah's violent zeal had to recant (1 Kings 19:12).

Even to women and men on the other side (v.1) the Son reveals a Father who does not simply erase infirmities: He makes us understand them as a place that is preparing personal development, and that of the Community.

It was imagined that in the time of the Messiah, all the needy would disappear (Is 35:5ff.). ‘Golden age’: everything at the top, no abyss.

In Jesus - Bread of poor barley, but distributed - an unusual fullness of the times is manifested, seemingly nebulous and fragile (v.9) yet real and capable of restarting people and relationships.

The Incarnation weaves our hearts anew, in dignity and promotion.

It truly unfolds, because it does not drag away poverty and obstacles: it rests on them and does not erase them at all.

Thus outperforming them, but by transmuting them; on those seeds, creating new life.

The old exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare the risk of Exodus and Faith (v.2) would not have helped us to assimilate the proposal of the ‘lesser’ Messiah.

He is in us who have embraced His life proposal: in coexistence and sharing.

Lord-in-us, He solves the world's problems - without immediate lightning bolts or shortcuts.

Initiative-Response of the Father, «support in the Journey» in search of the Hope of the poor - of all of us, the destitute people waiting.

[Friday 2nd wk. in Easter, April 17, 2026]

The very different solution. Multiplication by Division, in itinerancy

(Jn 6:1-15)

"Now a great crowd followed him, for they saw the signs he did on the sick" (v.2).

"There is a little boy who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what is this to so many?" (v.5).

"Jesus therefore knowing that they were about to come and kidnap him to make him king, withdrew again to the mountain by himself" (v.15).

«Man is a limited being who is himself limitless» (Fratelli Tutti [Brethren All] n.150).

In our hearts we have a great longing for fulfilment and Happiness. The Father has introduced it, He Himself satisfies it - but He wants us to be associated with His work - inside and outside.

The Son reflects God's design in His compassion for crowds in need of everything and - despite the plethora of teachers and experts - lacking any authentic teaching.

His solution is very different from that of all 'spiritual' guides, because he does not overlook us with an indirect paternalism (vv.5-6) that wipes away tears, heals wounds, erases humiliation, from the outside.

It invites us to make use of what we are and have, even though it may seem ridiculous. But it teaches in an absolutely clear way that by shifting energies, prodigious results are achieved.

This is how we respond in Christ to the world's great problems: by recovering the condition of the 'viator' man - a being of passage, his essential mark - and by sharing goods; not letting everyone make do.

Our raw nakedness, the vicissitudes and experiences of our many brothers and sisters, who are different, are resources not to be evaluated with distrust, "as dangerous competitors or enemies" of our fulfilment [FT no.152].

Not only will the little that we bring with us suffice to satiate us, but it will advance for others and with identical fullness of truth, human, epochal [vv.12-13: the particular passage insists on the Semitic symbolism of the number "twelve"; in Mk 8:8 and Mt 15:34-37 that of the number "seven" takes over].

In Christ, everyone can inaugurate a new Time, and Salvation is already at hand, because the people gather spontaneously around Him, coming as they are, with the burden of so many different needs (v.2).

The new people of God are not a crowd of chosen and pure people.

Everyone brings with them problems, which the Lord heals - but healing not with proxy measures (cf. Mt 14:16; Mk 6:37; Lk 9:13), as if from above or from without.

In short: another world is possible, but through breaking one's own even miserable bread and companion.

An authentic solution, if one brings it out from within, and by standing in the middle - not in front, not at the top.

The well-known symbolism of the "five loaves" and "two fish" (v.9) - in Christological perspective, means:

Assume one's own tradition, even legalistic tradition, which has served as a wise base nourishment (5 books of the Torah), then one's own history and sapiential afflatus (Writings: Kethubhiim) as well as prophetic (Nevi'im: Prophets).

[As St Augustine said: "The Word of God that is daily explained to you and in a certain sense 'broken' is also daily Bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38,395). Complete food: basic food and "companion" - historical and ideal, in code and in deed].

The place of God's revelation was to be that of "thunderbolts", on a "mountain" steaming like a furnace (Ex 19:18). But finally even Elijah's violent zeal had to recant (1 Kings 19:12).

Even to women and men of the other side (v.1) the Son reveals a Father who does not simply erase infirmities: he makes them understood as a place that is preparing a personal development, and that of the Community.

He imagined that in the time of the Messiah, all the needy would disappear (Is 35:5ff.). Golden age: everything at the top, no abyss.

In Jesus - Bread of poor barley, but distributed - an unusual fullness of times is manifested; apparently nebulous and fragile (v.9) but real and capable of restarting everyone, and relationships.

The Spirit of God acts not by descending like a thunderbolt from above, but by activating in us capacities that appear intangible, yet are able to regroup our dispersed [classified as insubstantial - involving the everyday summary - and re-evaluate it] being.

The Incarnation reweaves our hearts, in dignity and promotion; it truly unfolds, because it not only drags obstacles away: it rests on them and does not erase them at all.

Thus it surpasses them, but transmutes - posing new life.

Lymph that draws juice and sprouts Flowers from the one muddy, fertile soil, and communicates them.

Solidarity to which all are invited, not just those deemed to be in a state of 'perfection' and compactness.

Our shortcomings make us attentive, and unique. They are not to be despised, but taken up, placed in the Son's hands and energised (vv.11-13).

Falls themselves can be a valuable sign; in Christ, they are no longer reductive humiliations, but path markers (v.2).Perhaps we are not making the best use and investment of our resources.

Thus collapses can quickly turn into rises - different, unpacked. And seeking total completion in the Communion.

In this way, in the ideal of realising the Vocation, as well as intuiting the type of contribution to be made, nothing is better than a living environment, which does not clip the wings: lively fraternity in the exchange of qualities, and coexistence.

Not so much to dampen the jolts, but so that we are enabled to build stores of wisdom not calibrated by nomenclature - which everyone can draw on, even those who are different and far from us.

If a shortcoming is found here too, it will be to teach us to be present in the world in perhaps other and further directions, or to bring out mission and creative maturity - not to remain fixated on partiality and minutiae.

Thus, together, the 'no moments' immediately become a springboard for not stagnating in the same situations as always; regenerating, proceeding far elsewhere.

And the failures they throw into the balance serve to make us realise what we had not noticed, thus deviating from a conformist destiny.

They force us to seek suggestions, different horizons and relationships, a completion we had not imagined.

In short, our Heaven is intertwined with flesh, earth and our dust: a Supernatural that lies within and below, even in the souls of those who have collapsed to the ground; not behind the clouds.

It is the direct contact with our humus filled with royal juices that regenerates us and even creates us: as new women and men, newly re-born in sharing.

The image of the Kingdom in the puny Eucharist does not eliminate defect and death.

It takes them up and transfigures them into strengths; creating encounter, dialogue, preference for the minimal - and frankly propulsive - New Covenant.

Unfortunately, the exaggerated targeting of films about the Jesus 'multiplying' abundance... leads completely astray.

It breeds the devotees of increase, who disdain division (triplicators of money, property, titles, goals, relationships that matter, and so on).

Conversely, in Christ who distributes all things, we become like an actualised and propulsive body of sensitive witnesses [and living Scriptures].

Infants in the Lord, we swim in this different Water - sometimes perhaps outwardly veiled, or muddy and murky. Finally made transparent even as it is surrendered, filled with compassion and benevolent.

The old exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare the risk of exodus and Faith (v.2) would not have helped us to assimilate the proposal of the inferior Messiah, who solves the world's problems without immediate lightning bolts or shortcuts.

He is in us who have embraced his proposal of life: the Father's Initiative-Response, support in the unethereal Journey in search of the Hope of the poor - of all of us destitute waiting.

The allusion to the 'five' or 'seven' 'loaves' (multiplied because they are divided) reinforces the quotations concerning the malleable magma of biblical icons.

In this case, those of Moses and Elijah: figures from the five Books of the Pentateuch [the First Foods], plus the two sections of Prophets and Writings.

All together: fullness of food and wisdom for the soul, called to proceed beyond the surrounding hedgerows, breaking the banks of the enslaved mentality.

Nourishment-basis of the human-divine spirit, to which is added a nourishment that involves us.

[As St. Augustine: "The Word of God that is daily explained to you and in a certain sense 'broken' is also daily Bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38, 395)].

Complete food: basic food and companion food - historical and ideal, in code and in deed.

We become in Christ as an actualised and propulsive corpus of sensitive witnesses and Scriptures; admittedly reduced, not yet established and lacking in heroic phenomena, but emphatically sapiential and practical.

Announcers, sharers without resounding proclamations of self-sufficiency.

Never enclosed within archaic fences - always in the making - therefore able to perceive unknown tracks.

And to 'break the Bread'... that is, to be active, to go further, to share the little - to nourish, to overflow - multiplying the listening and the action of God; and to make even the desperate regain esteem.

We are children.

As a few and little ones who do not wallow in competitions that make life toxic - rather: called in the first person to write a singular, empathic and sacred Word-event.

Infants in the Lord, we swim in this different Water.

Sometimes perhaps outwardly veiled or muddy and murky; finally made transparent if only because it is surrendered, compassionate and benevolent.

The old exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare the risk of Faith (v.2) would not have helped us to assimilate the proposal of Jesus the Messiah, Son of God, Saviour - a well-known acrostic of the Greek word "Ichtys" [fish].He is the Father's Initiative-Response, support in the unethereal journey in search of the Hope of the poor - of all of us destitute waiting.

The working Faith thus has the Eucharist as its emblem, a revolution of sacredness. It seems strange, for us who have grown accustomed to it.

In fact, the purpose of evangelisation is to participate in and emancipate the integral being from everything that threatens it, not only in its extreme limitation: also in its everyday actions - to the point of seeking the communion of goods.

In Mk 6 the prodigy is placed after the earful towards the apostles, called "aside" for a verification of their uncertain preaching [Jesus announced as the glorious Messiah].

In Mk 8 [similarly] after the opening of the "senses" of the [same disciple taken "aside"] deaf and stuttering (Mk 7:31-37).

Jn 6 follows the episodes of the return to Galilee, the healing of the civil servant's son, the healing of the paralytic at the pool of Bethesda, and the Apology of Jesus himself.

In short, the Source and Summit Sign of the community of sons is a creative gesture that imposes a shift in vision, an absolutely new eye.

Faced with the destitution of the many caused by the greed of the few, the attitude of the authentic Church does not take pleasure in emblems and fervour, nor in partial calls to distinguish itself in almsgiving.

The breaking of the Bread takes over from the Manna dropped from above in the desert (cf. Mk 8:4; Jn 6:2) and entails its distribution - not only in particular situations.

There is no settling, in multiplying life for all.

This is the attitude of the living Body of Christ [thaumaturgic, not the miracle-worker] who feels called to be active in every circumstance.

Grateful adherence must lead us to the gift and sharing of the 'bread'.

If Eucharistic participation does not lead only to punctual alms-giving, external pietism and mannerly welfarism, there is the Result:

Women and men will eat, remain full, and there will be food left over for others. Not all of God's intended guests are yet present.

We note that it had not even occurred to some of the disciples that the solution might come from the people themselves (v.7) and their spirit - not from the patronage of the leaders or some individual benefactor.

Unexpected agreement: the question of food is resolved not from above, but from within the people and thanks to the few loaves they brought with them (v.9).

There is no resolution with the verb 'multiply' - i.e. 'increase' [relationships that count, increase property, pile up wiles].

The only therapy is the coexistence of 'breaking', 'giving', 'handing out', 'distributing' (v.11 Greek text).

And everyone is involved, no one privileged.

At that time, competitiveness and class mentality characterised the pyramid society of the empire - and began to infiltrate even the small community, just starting out.

As if the Lord and the God of profit could live side by side.

It is the communion of the needy that conversely takes centre stage in the unimaginative Church; capable of bringing opposites together.

Real sharing acts as the professor of the ubiquitous veteran, pretentious, only to be converted.

The germ of their 'durability' should be not altitude and role, but love.

Such is the only meaning of sacred gestures, not other projects tinged with prevarication, or appearance.

The 'belonging' astound.

For the Lord, the distant ones, still poised in their choices, are full participants in the messianic banquet - without preclusions, nor disciplines of the arcane with nerve-racking expectations.

Conversely, that Canteen presses in favour of others who are to be called. For a kind of re-establishment of the original Unity.

In short, the Redemption does not belong to elites concerned about the stability of their rule - which it is even the weak who must sustain.

Saved life comes to us by incorporation.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you ever broken your bread, passed on happiness and made recoveries that renew relationships, putting people who do not even have self-esteem back on their feet? Or have you favoured selflessness, chains, elite attitudes?

Today, on this splendid Sunday, as the Lord shows us all the beauty of his Creation, the liturgy provides us with the Gospel passage at the beginning of Chapter Six of John's Gospel. It contains, first of all, the miracle of the loaves - when Jesus fed thousands of people with only five loaves of bread and two fish; then, the Lord's miracle when he walks on the waters of the lake during a storm; and finally, the discourse in which he reveals himself as "the Bread of Life". In recounting the "sign" of bread, the Evangelist emphasizes that Christ, before distributing the food, blessed it with a prayer of thanksgiving (cf. v. 11). The Greek term used is eucharistein and it refers directly to the Last Supper, though, in fact, John refers here not to the institution of the Eucharist but to the washing of the feet. The Eucharist is mentioned here in anticipation of the great symbol of the Bread of Life. In this Year for Priests, how can we fail to recall that we priests, especially, may see ourselves reflected in this Johannine text, identifying ourselves with the Apostles when they say: Where can we find bread for all these people? Reading about that unknown boy who has five barley loaves and two fish, we too spontaneously say: But what are they for such a multitude? In other words: Who am I? How can I, with my limitations, help Jesus in his mission? And the Lord gives the answer: By taking in his "holy and venerable" hands the little that they are, priests, we priests, become instruments of salvation for many, for everyone!

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 26 July 2009]

"How are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?"

Before the multitude which has followed him from the shores of the Sea of Galilee to the mountains in order to listen to his word, Jesus begins, with this question, the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves. This is the significant prelude to the long speech in which he reveals himself to the world as the real Bread of life which came down from heaven (cf. Jn 6:41).

1. We have listened to the evangelical narration: with five barley loaves and two fish, offered by a boy, Jesus feeds about five thousand people. But the latter, not understanding the depth of the "sign" in which they have been involved, are convinced that they have at last found the King-Messiah, who will solve the political and economic problems of their nation. Before this obtuse misunderstanding of his mission, Jesus withdraws, all alone, to the mountains.

We, too, beloved Brothers and Sisters, have followed Jesus and continue to follow him. But we can and must ask ourselves "With what interior attitude?" With the true one of faith, which Jesus expected of the Apostles and of the multitude that he had fed, or with an attitude of incomprehension? Jesus presented himself on that occasion like, in fact more than, Moses who had fed the people of Israel in the desert during the Exodus. He presented himself like, in fact more than, Elisha, who had fed a hundred persons with twenty loaves of barley and grain. Jesus manifested himself, and manifests himself to us today, as the One who is capable of satisfying for ever the hunger of our hearts: "I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst." (Jn 6:33)

And man, especially modern man, is so hungry: hungry for truth, justice, love, peace, beauty; but, above all, hungry for God. "We must hunger for God!", St Augustine exclaims ("famelici Dei esse debemus": Enarrat. in psal. 146, n. 17,: PL 37, 1895 f.). It is he, the heavenly Father, who gives us the true bread!

2. This bread, which we need, is first and foremost Christ, who gives himself to us in the sacramental signs of the Eucharist, and makes us hear, at every Mass, the words of the last Supper: "Take and eat, all of you: this is my body offered in sacrifice for you." In the sacrament of the eucharistic bread—the Second Vatican Council affirms —"the unity of all believers who form one body in Christ (cf. I Cor 10:17) is both expressed and brought about. All men are called to this union with Christ, who is the light of the world, from whom we go forth, through whom we live, and toward whom our journey leads us." (Lumen Gentium, 3.)

The bread that we need is, moreover, the Word of God, because "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God" (Mt 4:4; cf. Dt 8:3). Certainly, men, too, can express and utter words of high value. But history shows us how the words of men are sometimes insufficient, ambiguous, disappointing, biased; while the Word of God is full of truth (cf. 2 Sam 7:28; 1 Cor 17:26); it is upright (Psalms 33:4); it is stable and remains for ever (cf. Psalms 119:89; 1 Pet 1:25).

We must listen religiously to this Word continually; assume it as the criterion of our way of thinking and acting; get to know it, by means of assiduous reading and personal meditation; but especially, we must day after day, in all our behaviour, make it ours, put it into practice,

The bread we need, finally, is grace; and we must invoke it, ask for it with sincere humility and tireless constancy, well aware that it is the most precious thing we can possess.

3. The path of our life, laid out for us by God's providential love, is a mysterious one, sometimes incomprehensible on the human plane, and nearly always hard and difficult. But the Father gives us the bread from heaven" (cf. In 6:32), to encourage us in our pilgrimage on earth.

I am happy to conclude with a passage from St Augustine, which sums up admirably that upon which we have meditated: "We can understand very well... how your Eucharist is daily food. The faithful know, in fact, what they receive and it is good that they should receive the daily bread necessary for this time. They pray for themselves, to become good, to be persevering in goodness, faith, and a good life... the Word of God, which is explained to us and, in a certain sense, broken, every day, is also daily bread" (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38, 395).

May Christ Jesus always multiply his bread, also for us!

Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, homily 29 July 1979]

Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Jn 6:1-15) recounts the parable of the multiplication of the loaves and the fish. Seeing that a large crowd had followed him to Lake Tiberias, Jesus turned to the Apostle Philip and asked him: “How are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” (v. 5). The few denarii that Jesus and the apostles had were in fact not enough to feed that multitude. And then came Andrew, another of the Twelve, leading a young lad to Jesus, who made all that he had available to them: five loaves and two fish. But certainly, Andrew says, this is not enough for that crowd (cf. v. 9). He was a good lad! Courageous. He too could see the crowd and the five loaves but he says: “I have this: If you need it, take it”. This boy makes us think.... What courage.... Young people are like this. They have courage. We must help them express this courage. And yet, Jesus ordered his disciples to ask the people to sit down. He then took the bread and the fish, gave thanks to the Father and distributed it (cf. v. 11) and everyone was able eat their fill. Everyone ate as much as they wanted.

With this Gospel passage, the liturgy inspires us to keep our gaze on Jesus, who, in last Sunday’s Gospel passage according to Mark, upon seeing “a great throng ... had compassion on them” (Mk 6:34). That boy too with the five loaves had understood this compassion and said: “Poor people! I have this...”. His compassion moved him to offer what he had. Indeed today, John shows us again that Jesus is attentive to people’s primary needs. The parable describes a concrete fact: the people were hungry and Jesus engaged his disciples so that this hunger could be satisfied. This is the concrete fact. Jesus did not only offer this to the crowd — he offered his Word, his solace, his salvation, ultimately his life —, but he certainly did this too: he took care of the food for the body. And we, his disciples, cannot ignore this. Only by listening to the peoples’ most simple requests and being close to their practical existential situation can one expect to be listened to when speaking about higher values.

God’s love for a humanity that is hungry for bread, freedom, justice, peace and, above all, his divine grace, never fails. Even today, Jesus continues to feed, to make his presence alive and comforting, and he does so through us. So the Gospel invites us to be available and hard working, like that youth who, realizing he had five loaves, says: “I contribute this, then you will see [to it] ...”. Faced with the cry of hunger — all types of “hunger” — of many brothers and sisters in every part of the world, we cannot be detached and calm spectators. The proclamation of Christ, Bread of eternal life, requires a generous commitment of solidarity toward the poor, the weak, the least ones, the defenceless. This action of closeness and charity is the best test of the quality of our faith, both at the personal level and at the community level.

Then at the end of the story, Jesus, when everyone had eaten their fill, Jesus told the disciples to gather up the leftovers so that nothing would be wasted. And I would like to suggest to you this sentence that Jesus uttered: “Gather the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost” (v. 12). I am thinking about the many hungry people and how much leftover food we throw away.... Let each of us think about this: where does the food that is left over from lunch go, from dinner, where does it go? What is done with the leftover food in my house? Is it thrown away? No. If you have this habit, I will give you some advice: speak to your grandparents who lived through the post war period and ask them what they did with the leftovers. Never throw away leftover food. Either heat it again or give it to someone who can eat it, to someone who needs it. Never throw away leftover food. This is a piece of advice and also an examination of conscience: what do we do with leftovers at home?

Let us pray to the Virgin Mary so that programmes dedicated to development, food and solidarity may prevail in the world and not those of hatred, weapons and war.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 July 2018]

(Jn 3:31-36)

In the Gospel passage, John uses descriptive categories [from above, from below, from heaven, from the earth - that is, our whole “domain”].

Natural terms, to introduce us to the Person of the revealing Son, and the importance of his proposal for real life.

Indeed, the divine condition of the Father's Envoy proceeds from the human dimension.

However, his earthly nature is incomparable to his origin as a being from heaven, superior to any possible contention.

The Messiah testimony about the world above is a Word that challenges us. But it is not accepted (cf. Jn 1:11) by a «world» (Jn 1:10) that loves only what corresponds to it.

Yet those who accept such a testimony (cf. Jn 1:12) harbour within themselves the same Revealer - because of the identity between the Person and the Word.

In the expressions of the One who unveils, God's plans and action are made manifest (v.33).

It is the Master of Nazareth who shows the truth of the Most High.

For the Father has bestowed upon the Son his entire Spirit «not with measure»  (v.34); no limits, no restrictions, as e.g. in prophets, kings or patriarchs.

And he who believes in the Son is of the Father - he is already at the level of eternity: he has in him the same «Life of the Eternal» (v. 36).

He who welcomes Christ already lives in God. He is turned to the Father; he enjoys his ineffable presence, assimilates and speaks his ‘language’ unique.

He becomes capable of non-unilateral relationships, because he knows how to recover opposites.

Only from the fullness of the gifts of the Spirit [and its participation: v.34] comes adherence to a Torah imprinted in the heart, as well as self-acknowledged obedience.

In this way, it becomes Resemblance, which takes the story of the new Master as its criterion.

Keeping the precepts of the Pentateuch seemed to bring «long days and years of life and so much peace» (Pr 3,1-2).

A [normal] expected fulfilment was assumed from the fulfilments of the Law and oral tradition.

Salvation, on the other hand, does not come from origins, from 'territory' (v.31) - culture and ethnicity.

Nor does redemption proceed from the outcome of a verification of ancient teaching.

Complete realisation seizes us - rather - from believing in the Son (v.36): absolute ‘birth’ [always renewed] imparted by the Spirit who does not hinder.

Spirit of divine configuration, communicated (precisely) «not with measure».

Ancient religions promise “eternal life” - in some cases, almost a consolation prize after the hardships of this vale of tears.

Alienation that breaks wings, produces alibis, and makes one external, already registered and predictable.

The «Life of the Eternal» (v.36), the very, intimate Life of God, is instead a condition that dwells, bursting into our paths.

It does so with eccentric, unprecedented inclinations; previously inconceivable - where we are ourselves, not reduced creatures.

It can be experienced in the concrete, even excessive, ways of being that correspond to an unveiling, a 'revelation' within us.

Especially in the Fourth Gospel, the dimension of the Eternal is a protruding measure, yes, but embodied and in action. Not by natural virtue, but by openness to Totality.

For the action of the Spirit, which ceaselessly creates and regenerates - and weaves a radical empathy into being.

It is not we who produce the Love that fills and activates, or that can return us to life without restriction.

But the dimension of Sons who from Baptism know and recognise themselves in the Fullness, concerns us.

Then - as in Jesus the Son - everything is placed in our hands (v.35).

To internalize and live the message:

What vocational excess have you left in abeyance?

[Thursday 2nd wk. of Easter, April 16, 2026]

(Jn 3:31-36)

In the pericope Jn uses descriptive categories [from above, from below, from heaven, from the earth - i.e. our whole "domain"].

Natural terms, to introduce us to the Person of the revealing Son, and the importance of his proposal for real life.

In fact, the divine condition of the Father's Envoy proceeds from the human dimension.

However, his earthly nature is incomparable to his origin as a being from heaven, superior to all competition.

The Messiah's testimony about the world above is a Word that challenges us. But it is not accepted (cf. Jn 1:11) by a "world" (Jn 1:10) i.e. an official religious institution that only loves what corresponds to it.

And yet those who accept this testimony (cf. Jn 1:12) harbour within themselves the same Revealer - because of the identity between the Person and the Word.

In the expressions of the One who unveils, God's designs and action are made manifest (v.33).

It is the Master of Nazareth who shows the truth of the Most High.

For the Father has granted to the Son the whole of his Spirit "not with measure" (v.34); no limits, no restrictions, as e.g. in prophets, kings or patriarchs.

And he who believes in the Son is of the Father - he is already at the level of eternity: he has in himself the same "Life of the Eternal" (v.36).

Whoever accepts Christ already lives in God. He is addressed to the Father; he enjoys its ineffable presence, assimilates and speaks its (unique) language.

He becomes capable of non-one-sided relationships, because he knows how to recover opposites.

Only from the fullness of the Spirit's gifts [and its participation: v.34] comes adherence to a Torah imprinted in the heart, as well as self-acknowledged obedience.

In this way, he becomes Likeness, which takes the story of the new Master as its criterion.

The unlimited fullness of the Spirit granted to Christ means and guarantees that the Revelation brought by Jesus is sufficient and full.

The unveiling of the Mystery no longer needs to be completed through cognitive processes and efforts of will.

Neither does it need a doctrinal system, nor a code of conduct to act as guarantor, as in religions.

The truth of Christ illustrates the Faithfulness of the Father, whose Love is not subject to conditions-typed conditions (which would liquidate it).

The object and end of Revelation is no dogmatic 'truth'.

The Person of the Lord introduces us into a process, into a journey that becomes a means to know and transmit it - a means that is not the end.

We could say: not the Son resembles the Father, but the Father resembles the One who reveals Him.

In short, in Jesus-Logos we are invited to put all half-measures and ancient preconceptions about God in brackets.

It is the decision or non-decision for Christ, his 'Judgement' - which does not punish.

It takes us on the wondrous journey of Faith, which accompanies, dominates the natural devotional level and becomes the... experience of being saved.

Keeping the precepts of the Pentateuch brought "long days and years of life and much peace" (Pr 3:1-2).

From the fulfilments of the Law and oral tradition an expected [normal] fulfilment was assumed.

Salvation, on the other hand, does not come from origins, from 'territory' (v.31) - culture and ethnicity.

Nor does redemption proceed from the outcome of a verification of ancient teaching.

The complete realisation seizes us - rather - from believing in the Son (v.36): absolute birth [always renewed] imparted by the Spirit who does not hinder.

Spirit of divine configuration, communicated precisely "not with measure".

Ancient religions promise 'eternal life' - in some cases, almost a consolation prize after the labours of this vale of tears.

Alienation that breaks wings, produces alibis, and makes one external, already registered and predictable.

Instead, the "Life of the Eternal" (v.36), the very and intimate Life of God, is a condition that inhabits, bursts into our paths.

It does so with eccentric, unprecedented inclinations; previously inconceivable - where we are ourselves, not reduced creatures.

It can be experienced in the concrete, even excessive, ways of being that correspond to an unveiling, a 'revelation' within us.

Especially in the Fourth Gospel, the dimension of the Eternal is a protruding measure, but embodied and in action. Not by natural virtue, but by openness to Totality.

By the action of the Spirit, which ceaselessly creates and regenerates - and weaves a radical understanding into being.

It is not we who produce the Love that fills and activates, or that can restore us to life without restriction.

But the dimension of Sons who from Baptism know and recognise themselves in the Fullness, concerns us.

Then - as in Jesus the Son - everything is placed in our hands (v.35).

To internalise and live the message:

What vocational excess have you left undone?

What experience of wholeness given, received and recognised have you had?

If Christ is one of many realities, what reigns in you? When God has primacy, what changes?

The novelty of biblical faith

9. There is first of all the new image of God. In the cultures surrounding the world of the Bible, the image of God and the gods ultimately remains unclear and contradictory in itself. Instead, in the course of biblical faith, what Israel's fundamental prayer, the Shema, summarises in the words: 'Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one' (Deut 6:4) becomes clearer and clearer. There is only one God, who is the Creator of heaven and earth and therefore also the God of all men. Two facts in this clarification are singular: that truly all other gods are not God and that all reality in which we live goes back to God, is created by Him. Certainly, the idea of a creation also exists elsewhere, but only here is it absolutely clear that not just any god, but the one true God, Himself, is the author of the whole of reality; it comes from the power of His creative Word. This means that this creature of His is dear to Him, because it was willed by Him, "made" by Him. And so the second important element now appears: this God loves man. The divine power that Aristotle, at the pinnacle of Greek philosophy, sought to grasp through reflection, is indeed for every being the object of desire and love - as a beloved reality this divinity moves the world - but it itself needs nothing and loves nothing, only is loved. The one God in whom Israel believes, however, loves personally. His love, moreover, is an elective love: of all peoples He chooses Israel and loves it - with the aim, however, of healing the whole of humanity in precisely this way. He loves, and this love of His can undoubtedly be described as eros, which however is also and totally agape.

Especially the prophets Hosea and Ezekiel described this passion of God for his people with bold erotic imagery. God's relationship with Israel is illustrated through the metaphors of betrothal and marriage; consequently, idolatry is adultery and prostitution. This hints concretely - as we have seen - at the fertility cults with their abuse of eros, but at the same time it also describes the relationship of faithfulness between Israel and its God. God's love story with Israel consists, in depth, in the fact that He gives the Torah, that is, He opens Israel's eyes to the true nature of man and shows it the way to true humanism. It consists in the fact that man, living in faithfulness to the one God, experiences himself as one who is loved by God and discovers joy in truth, in righteousness - joy in God that becomes his essential happiness: 'Who else shall I have for myself in heaven? Outside of you I covet nothing on earth.... My good is to be close to God" (Ps 73 [72], 25. 28).

[Pope Benedict, Deus Caritas est]