(Mt 5:20-26)

«I tell you in fact that unless your righteousness will abound more [that] of the scribes and pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven»

In the churches of Galilee and Syria there were different and conflicting opinions about the Law of Moses: for some an absolute to be fulfilled even in detail, for others now a meaningless frill (v.22).

The disputants went so far as to insult, to ridicule the opposing party.

But as the Tao Tê Ching (xxx) says: «Where the militias are stationed, thorns and brambles are born». Master Wang Pi comments: «He who promotes himself causes unrest, because he strives to affirm his merits».

Mt helps all community sisters and brothers to understand the content of the ancient Scriptures and grasp the attitude of ‘continuity and cut’ given by the Lord: «You have heard that [...] Now I say to you» (vv.21-22).

‘Arrow’ of the ancient codes was shot in the right direction, but only understanding its range in the spirit of concordance sustains trajectory to the point of providing the energy needed to hit the “target”.

Ideal of ancient religiosity was to present oneself pure before God, and in this sense the Scribes official theologians of the Sanhedrin emphasised the value of the rules that they believed were nestled in the First Testament ‘prison of the letter’.

Sadducees - the priestly class - focused on the sacrificial observances of the Torah alone.

Pharisees, leaders of popular religiosity, emphasised the respect for all traditional customs.

Teaching of professionals of the sacred produced in the people a sense of legalistic oppression that obscured the spirit of the Word of God and of Tradition itself.

Jesus brings out the goal: the greater Justice of Love.

The splendor, beauty and richness of the Glory of the living God is not produced in observing, but in the ability to manifest Him Present.

The right position before Father becomes - in Jesus' proposal - the right position before one's own history and that of one’s neighbor.

First «debt» is therefore a ‘global understanding’: here the Eternal is revealed.

Justice is not the product of the accumulation of righteous deeds, in view of merit: this would manifest narrowness, detachment and arrogance (a type of man of unquestioning thought).

The new Justice chases complicity with evil up to the secret roots of the heart and ideas. But not to accentuate the sense of guilt, nor to make us pursues external dreams.

Observance that does not abide in friendship, in tolerance even of oneself, in Christ who orients, would arise from an ambiguous relationship with the norm and doctrines.

We can overlook the childish need for approval.

The Life of God transpires in a world not of sterilised or pure and phlegmatic one-sided people, but in a conviviality of differences that resembles Him.

To internalize and live the message:

Where do you find the emotional nourishment you need?

What do you think of exclusive groups and their idea of ​​the ultimate court?

Discord even with creation

If man is not reconciled with God, he is also in discord with creation. He is not reconciled with himself, he would like to be something other than what he is and is therefore not reconciled with his neighbour either. Also part of reconciliation is the ability to acknowledge guilt and ask for forgiveness - from God and from each other. And finally, part of the process of reconciliation is the readiness to do penance, the readiness to suffer to the end for a fault and allow oneself to be transformed. And part of it is that gratuitousness of which the Encyclical 'Caritas in veritate' speaks repeatedly: the readiness to go beyond what is necessary, to go beyond reckoning, but to go beyond what mere legal conditions require. This includes that generosity of which God himself has given us an example. Let us think of Jesus' words: 'If you present your offering at the altar and there you remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come back and offer your gift' (Mt 5:23f.). God, who knew that we are not reconciled, who saw that we have something against Him, rose up and came to meet us, even though He alone was on the side of reason. He came to meet us up to the cross, to reconcile us. This is gratuitousness: the readiness to take the first step. To first go out to meet the other, to offer him reconciliation, to take on the suffering that entails giving up one's own right. Do not give in to the desire for reconciliation: God has given us an example of this, and this is the way to become like Him, an attitude we need again and again in the world. We must today relearn the ability to recognise guilt, we must shake off the illusion that we are innocent. We must learn the capacity to do penance, to let ourselves be transformed; to go out to meet the other and to let God give us the courage and the strength for such a renewal.

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

Jesus' attitude with respect to the Jewish Law: deep motivation, hidden wisdom. Precept - demand of love

The Gospel [...] is still part of the so-called 'Sermon on the Mount', the first great preaching of Jesus. Today the theme is Jesus' attitude towards the Jewish Law. He states: 'Do not believe that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish, but to fulfil' (Mt 5:17). Jesus therefore does not want to cancel the commandments that the Lord gave through Moses, but wants to bring them to their fullness. And immediately afterwards he adds that this "fulfilment" of the Law requires a higher justice, a more authentic observance. For he says to his disciples: "Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:20).

But what does this "full fulfilment" of the Law mean? And in what does this superior justice consist? Jesus himself answers us with some examples. Jesus was practical, he always spoke with examples to make himself understood. He starts from the fifth commandment of the Decalogue: "You have heard that it was said to the ancients, 'You shall not kill'; ... But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother shall be subject to judgment" (vv. 21-22). With this, Jesus reminds us that even words can kill! When you say of a person that he has a serpent's tongue, what do you mean? That his words kill! Therefore, not only must one not attempt the life of one's neighbour, but neither should one pour the poison of wrath upon him and strike him with slander. Not even gossip about him. We come to chatter: chatter, too, can kill, because it kills people's reputation! It is so bad to talk! At first it may seem like a pleasant, even amusing thing, like sucking a candy. But in the end, it fills our hearts with bitterness, and it also poisons us. I tell you the truth, I am convinced that if everyone made the resolution to avoid gossip, he would eventually become a saint! That's a good way! Do we want to become saints? Yes or no? [Piazza: Yes!] Do we want to live attached to chatter as a habit? Yes or no? [Piazza: No!] Then we agree: no chatter! Jesus proposes to those who follow him the perfection of love: a love whose only measure is to have no measure, to go beyond all calculation. Love of neighbour is such a fundamental attitude that Jesus goes so far as to say that our relationship with God cannot be sincere if we do not want to make peace with our neighbour. And he says: "If therefore you present your offering at the altar and there you remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother" (vv. 23-24). Therefore we are called to be reconciled with our brothers before we manifest our devotion to the Lord in prayer.

It is clear from all this that Jesus does not simply attach importance to disciplinary observance and outward conduct. He goes to the root of the Law, focusing above all on the intention and therefore on the human heart, from where our good or evil actions originate. Good and honest behaviour requires not just legal rules, but deep motivations, the expression of a hidden wisdom, the Wisdom of God, which can be received through the Holy Spirit. And we, through faith in Christ, can open ourselves to the action of the Spirit, who enables us to experience divine love.

In the light of this teaching, each precept reveals its full meaning as a requirement of love, and all are reunited in the greatest commandment: love God with all your heart and love your neighbour as yourself.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 February 2014]

In this [...] Liturgy we continue to read Jesus’ so-called “Sermon on the Mount”. It is contained in chapters 5, 6 and 7 of Matthew’s Gospel. After the Beatitudes, which are the programme of his life, Jesus proclaims the new Law, his Torah, as our Jewish brothers and sisters call it. In fact, on his coming, the Messiah was also to bring the definitive revelation of the Law and this is precisely what Jesus declares: “Think not that I have come to abolish the Law and the Prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfil them”.

And addressing his disciples, he adds: “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven” (Mt 5:17,20). But what do this “fullness” of Christ’s Law and this “superior” justice that he demands consist in?

Jesus explains it with a series of antitheses between the old commandments and his new way of propounding them. He begins each time: “You have heard that it was said to the men of old…”, and then he asserts: “but I say to you”…. For example, “You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘you shall not kill; and whoever kills shall be liable to judgement’. But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgement” (Mt 5:21-22).

And he does this six times. This manner of speaking made a great impression on the people, who were shocked, because those words: “I say to you” were equivalent to claiming the actual authority of God, the source of the Law. The newness of Jesus consists essentially in the fact that he himself “fulfils” the commandments with the love of God, with the power of the Holy Spirit who dwells within him. And we, through faith in Christ, can open ourselves to the action of the Holy Spirit who makes us capable of living divine love.

So it is that every precept becomes true as a requirement of love, and all join in a single commandment: love God with all your heart and love your neighbour as yourself. “Love is the fulfilling of the Law”, St Paul writes (Rom 13:10).

With regard to this requirement, for example, the pitiful case of the four Rom children, who died last week when their shack caught fire on the outskirts of this city, forces us to ask ourselves whether a more supportive and fraternal society, more consistent in love, in other words more Christian, might not have been able to prevent this tragic event. And this question applies in the case of so many other grievous events, more or less known, which occur daily in our cities and our towns.

Dear friends, perhaps it is not by chance that Jesus’ first great preaching is called the “Sermon on the Mount”! Moses went up Mount Sinai to receive the Law of God and bring it to the Chosen People. Jesus is the Son of God himself who came down from Heaven to lead us to Heaven, to God’s height, on the way of love. Indeed, he himself is this way; all we have to do in order to put into practice God’s will and to enter his Kingdom, eternal life, is to follow him.

Only one creature has already scaled the mountain peak: the Virgin Mary. Through her union with Jesus, her righteousness was perfect: for this reason we invoke her as Speculum iustitiae. Let us entrust ourselves to her so that she may guide our steps in fidelity to Christ’s Law.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 13 February 2011]

7. In his activity as a teacher, which began in Nazareth and extended to Galilee and Judea up to the capital, Jerusalem, Jesus knows how to grasp and make the most of the abundant fruits present in the religious tradition of Israel. He penetrates it with a new intelligence, brings out its vital values, highlights its prophetic perspectives. He does not hesitate to denounce men's deviations from the designs of the God of the covenant.

In this way he works, within the one and the same divine revelation, the passage from the "old" to the "new", without abolishing the Law, but instead bringing it to its full fulfilment (cf. Mt 5:17). This is the thought with which the Letter to the Hebrews opens: "God, who had already spoken in ancient times many times and in various ways to the fathers through the prophets, has lately, in these days, spoken to us through his Son . . ." (Heb 1:1).

8. This transition from the 'old' to the 'new' characterises the entire teaching of the 'Prophet' of Nazareth. A particularly clear example is the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus says: "You have heard that it was said to the ancients: Do not kill . . . But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be brought into judgment" (Matthew 5: 21-22). "Ye have heard that it was said, Thou shalt not commit adultery; but I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her in his heart" (Matt 5:27-28). "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy; but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for your persecutors . . ." (Mt 5:43-44).

Teaching in this way, Jesus at the same time declares: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish, but to fulfil" (cf. Mt 5:17).

9. This "fulfil" is a key-word that refers not only to the teaching of the truth revealed by God, but also to the whole history of Israel, that is, of the people whose son Jesus is. This extraordinary history, guided from the beginning by the powerful hand of the God of the covenant, finds its fulfilment in Jesus. The plan that the God of the covenant had inscribed in this history from the beginning, making it the history of salvation, tended towards the "fullness of time" (Gal 4:4), which is fulfilled in Jesus Christ. The Prophet of Nazareth does not hesitate to speak about this from his very first speech in the synagogue of his city.

10. Particularly eloquent are the words of Jesus reported in John's Gospel when he says to his opponents: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day . . .", and faced with their unbelief: "Are you not yet fifty years old and have you seen Abraham?", Jesus confirms even more explicitly: "Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am" (John 8: 56-58). It is evident that Jesus affirms, not only that he is the fulfilment of God's salvific designs, inscribed in the history of Israel since the time of Abraham, but that his existence precedes the time of Abraham, to the point of identifying himself as "he who is" (Ex 3:14). But for this very reason he, Jesus Christ, is the fulfilment of the history of Israel, because he "surpasses" this history with his mystery.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 4 February 1987]

It is necessary to live "the petty holiness of negotiation", that is, that "healthy realism" that "the Church teaches us": that is, it is a matter of rejecting the logic of "either this or nothing" and embarking on the path of the "possible" in order to be reconciled with others. Here is the proposal launched by Francis in the Mass celebrated on Thursday morning, 9 June, in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta. With a small note of tenderness: during the homily a child started to cry but Francis immediately reassured his parents: 'No, let's stay calm, because the sermon of a child in church is more beautiful than that of the priest, than that of the bishop and than that of the Pope. Let it be: let it be, which is the voice of innocence that is good for us all".

For his reflection, the Pope started from the passage in Matthew's Gospel (5:20-26), proposed by the liturgy: "Jesus is in the midst of his people and teaches the disciples, teaches the law of God's people". In fact, "Jesus is that legislator whom Moses promised: 'One shall come after me...'". He is therefore "the true lawgiver, the one who teaches us how the law must be in order to be just". But "the people were a bit bewildered, a bit at a loss, because they did not know what to do and those who taught the law were not consistent". And it is Jesus himself who tells them: "Do what they say, but not what they do". After all, "they were not consistent in their life, they were not a testimony of life". Thus "Jesus, in this Gospel passage, speaks of overcoming: 'Your righteousness must overcome that of the scribes and Pharisees'". Therefore, "to this people somewhat imprisoned in this cage without exit, Jesus shows the way out: it is always to go out, to overcome, to go up".

And in this direction, Francis explained, Jesus 'takes as a first example - he takes many, doesn't he? - the first commandment: love God and love your neighbour: "You have heard that it was said to the ancients, 'You shall not kill', one of the commandments of love of neighbour, 'but I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother shall be subject to judgment. And whoever then says to his brother foolish shall be subjected to the sanhedrin, and whoever says to him insane shall be destined for the fire of Gehenna'".

In essence, Jesus states that "it is a sin not only to kill", but also to "insult and scold" one's brother. And "this is good to hear", the Pope added, precisely "in this time where we are so used to qualifiers and have such a creative vocabulary for insulting others". To offend, therefore, 'is also a sin, it is killing'. Because 'it is giving a slap in the face to the soul of the brother, to the dignity of the brother', to say phrases like: 'pay no attention, this one is a fool, this one is a fool', and 'many other swear words that we say, with much charity, to others'. This, the Pontiff reiterated, "is sin".

Francis noted that "Jesus resolves" the doubts "of this bewildered and imprisoned people by looking up: the law up. And he goes on to connect the conduct of the people with worship to God and says: 'If you go to the altar to give an offering and you have a problem with your brother, or your brother has a problem with you, go to your brother first, be reconciled'". And "this is going beyond the law and what it says is a justice superior to that of the scribes and Pharisees".

"How many times do we in the Church hear these things, how many times!" the Pope noted, recalling that it is not uncommon to hear phrases such as: "But that priest, that man, that woman from Catholic Action, that bishop, that Pope tell us "you must do this!", and he does the opposite". This is precisely "the scandal that wounds the people and does not let God's people grow, that goes forward. It does not free". Also "these people," he continued, "had seen the rigidity of these scribes and Pharisees", so much so that "when a prophet came who gave them some joy they persecuted him and even killed him: there was no place for prophets there".

That is why "Jesus says to the Pharisees: 'You have killed the prophets, you have persecuted the prophets: those who brought the new air'". Jesus, "as he said in the synagogue of Nazareth, came to bring us the year of grace, to bring us liberation, true liberation: that of Jesus". For Francis, 'generosity, holiness is going out but always, always up: going out up'. This 'is liberation from the rigidity of the law and also from idealisms that do us no good'.

"Jesus knows us so well," the Pope explained, "and he knows how we were made because he is the creator, he knows our nature. And here he suggests to us: "If you have a problem with a brother - he says the word 'adversary' - get your act together quickly". Thus the Lord "also teaches us a healthy realism: many times you cannot arrive at perfection, but at least do what you can, agree not to come to judgement". This is the 'healthy realism of the Catholic Church: the Catholic Church never teaches 'either this, or this'". Rather "the Church says: 'this and this'". In short, "be perfect: reconcile with your brother, do not insult him, love him, but if there is any problem at least come to an agreement, so that war does not break out". Here is the 'healthy realism of Catholicism'. Instead "it is not Catholic but it is heretical" to say "it is this or nothing".

"Jesus," Francis assured, "always knows how to walk with us, he gives us the ideal, he accompanies us towards the ideal, he frees us from this caging of the rigidity of the law and tells us: 'Do as much as you can do'. And he understands us well'. This is "this our Lord, this is what he teaches us", telling us: "Please, do not insult yourselves and do not be hypocrites: go and praise God with the same language with which you insult your brother, no, this is not done, but do what you can, at least avoid war among yourselves, come to an agreement". And, the Pope added, "I allow myself to tell you this word that seems a little strange, it is the small holiness of negotiation: I cannot do everything, but I want to do everything, but I agree with you, at least we do not insult each other, we do not make war and we all live in peace".

"Jesus is great," the Pontiff said in conclusion, "and he frees us from all our miseries, even from that idealism that is not Catholic. This is why "we ask the Lord to teach us, first of all, to come out of all rigidity, but to come up, so that we can worship and praise God; that he teach us to reconcile with one another; and also, that he teach us to agree with one another to the point that we can do."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 10/06/2016]

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity (year A)  [31 May 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (34:4–6, 8–9)

The text presents one of the most precious moments of biblical revelation: God speaks of himself and proclaims his name before Moses, who prostrates himself in recognition of the greatness of what he hears. God defines himself as ‘the Lord (YHWH), a God who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love and faithfulness. This name, already revealed in the burning bush, is the foundation of Israel’s faith. Even then, God had shown his face: he sees the misery of his people in Egypt, hears their cry, knows their sufferings and comes down to set them free, inspiring Moses with the necessary strength. This means that man is never alone in his trials: God is present, accompanying and sustaining him. The Jewish Passover commemorates this liberating intervention every year. In today’s text, however, a further step is taken: God does not merely feel compassion, but loves deeply. His ‘passing’ before Moses recalls the passage during the Exodus: whenever God passes by, he sets free. This second revelation is even more important because it frees man from false images of God. It is not man who has invented a good God: it is God himself who has revealed himself in this way, unexpectedly. Moses fully understands the meaning of ‘slow to anger’ and asks forgiveness for the people, aware of their unfaithfulness. Israel is described as a “stiff-necked people”, an image drawn from the agricultural yoke: just as animals resist the yoke, so the people struggle to walk in step with God in the covenant. Despite this, Moses trusts that God will continue to forgive and keep the people as his inheritance. Finally, God’s faithfulness (“truth”) remains the foundation of hope: He does not abandon His people nor forget the covenant. For this reason, Israel remains the chosen people and, as the New Testament also reminds us, God remains ever faithful, even when man is unfaithful.

Responsorial Psalm: Song of Daniel (3:52–56)

To understand the Book of Daniel, we can use a modern comparison: in the 1980s, during Soviet rule in Czechoslovakia, a young actress staged a play about Joan of Arc. On the surface, it spoke of 15th-century France, but between the lines the message was clear: like Joan, the Czech people too could resist oppression. Similarly, the Book of Daniel, written in the 2nd century BC during the persecution by the Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes, is a text of resistance. It tells stories set in an earlier era, under the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar, but in reality it speaks of the author’s contemporary situation. Its aim is to encourage the faithful to remain steadfast, even unto martyrdom. A central episode is that of the three young men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, condemned to be burned alive for refusing to worship a statue. Thrown into a blazing furnace, they are miraculously saved: the flames kill their executioners, whilst they walk unharmed through the fire, praising God. The greatest miracle, however, is their faith: they acknowledge the sins of the people and humbly entrust themselves to God’s mercy. In their song they proclaim: “Blessed are you, Lord, God of our fathers”. It is a reference to the covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Israel, to the divine promises and the history of salvation, but also to God’s continual forgiveness despite the people’s unfaithfulness. When speaking of God’s “Name”, God himself is referred to with respect. The reference to the “holy temple” reflects the historical context of persecution: even when worship is desecrated, it is affirmed that God alone is the true Lord. The images of the throne and the cherubim recall the Holy of Holies in the Temple, a sign of God’s presence among his people. This is a message of hope: even in the harshest trials, God is present and evil will not have the last word. The hymn thus becomes a song of trust and victory: despite violence and persecution, faith remains steadfast. This message of resilience and hope remains relevant even today.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (13:11–13)

The final sentence: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all”, is the formula with which the Eucharistic celebration begins, and this is no coincidence: St Paul concludes his Second Letter to the Corinthians in this way, summarising God’s entire plan. This expression, spoken by the celebrant in the name of God, indicates that God invites humanity to enter into his intimacy, that is, into the communion of love of the Trinity. “Grace”, “love” and “communion” express the same reality: the Trinitarian life of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The subjunctive verb “may be with you” does not indicate any doubt about God, who is always the source of forgiveness, blessing and presence, but rather points to human freedom: God continually offers his love, but man is free to accept or reject it. This clear expression of the Trinity is rare in the Bible and marks the fulfilment of revelation in Jesus Christ. From this spring Paul’s exhortations, beginning with joy: “Brothers and sisters, rejoice.” In the Bible, joy is linked to the experience of liberation, such as at the end of a war or the return from exile, when the people experience God’s salvation. These liberations that occur in history foreshadow the definitive joy promised by God, that of a new creation. Jesus himself speaks of this full and definitive joy at the end of his discourse at the Last Supper: “Take heart, I have overcome the world”, and promises a joy that no one can take away, even through trials. Paul’s second exhortation concerns unity and peace: “Be of one mind… live in peace”. Unity among believers is essential, for it is God’s witness to the world and echoes Jesus’ prayer: “May they be one.” Paul insists on one faith, one Lord, one baptism, one God and Father of all. This communion is also expressed in the liturgical gesture of the kiss of peace, already present in the early Christian communities. Ancient testimonies, such as those of Saint Justin and Saint Hippolytus, show how this gesture was an integral part of the celebration, a concrete sign of unity and brotherhood.

From the Gospel of John (3:16–18)

‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’: this sentence expresses the great transition from the Old to the New Testament. That God loves humanity was already known, and was Israel’s great discovery; the novelty lies in the gift of the Son for the salvation of all. God so loved the world… that whoever believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life. According to the Gospel of John, it is enough to believe to be saved: whoever receives Christ becomes a child of God and already possesses eternal life. This “eternal life” is the life of the Spirit received at Baptism: it is true salvation, that is, living in peace with oneself and with others, as brothers and sisters amongst men and children of God. To be saved, one need only turn to Jesus, allow oneself to be transformed by him, and pass from a heart of stone to a heart of flesh. In biblical language: “to lift one’s gaze towards him”. It is extraordinary news, if taken seriously, for in the face of the Crucified One the true face of God is revealed. In the face of the crucified Christ, who freely gives his life, humanity discovers the true face of God: not a domineering or vengeful God, but a God who is love and mercy. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” says Jesus. All that is required is faith: to believe in God who saves in order to be saved. In the Gospels, in fact, Jesus often repeats: “Your faith has saved you.” The evangelist John links this mystery to Zechariah’s prophecy: looking upon the one who has been pierced leads to conversion and purification. This vision also recurs in Revelation: all will see the one whom they have pierced. The expression ‘only Son’ indicates that Jesus is the fullness of grace and truth, the sole source of eternal life and the head of the new humanity. God’s plan is for all humanity to be united in Christ and to share in the life of the Trinity: this is salvation, true life, already present from this moment onwards. Eternal life is to know you, the one true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ: to know God means to recognise him as mercy and to enter into a profound relationship with him, in accordance with the meaning that ‘to know’ holds in St John. ‘Avoiding judgement’ means avoiding separation from God: it is enough to believe in his forgiveness. As in human relationships, if one believes in forgiveness, one can return and be reconciled; if one does not believe, one remains trapped in one’s own error. So it is with God. God offers salvation, but does not impose it, and man remains always free. Those who believe are saved; those who reject faith exclude themselves. This is shown in an extraordinary way by the good thief when he turns to Jesus, who is crucified alongside him. Despite having lived a life of sin, at the very last moment before dying he entrusts himself to Jesus and receives a surprising promise: ‘Today you will be with me in Paradise.’

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Pentecost Sunday (year A)  [24 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:1–11)

Jerusalem is not only the city where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, but the city where he rose from the dead and where the Spirit was poured out upon humanity. In Christ’s time, the Jewish feast of Pentecost was of the utmost importance because it was the feast of the giving of the Law, one of the three annual feasts for which people made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The list of all the nationalities gathered in Jerusalem for the occasion is proof of this. Jerusalem was therefore teeming with people from all over, thousands of devout Jews, some of whom had travelled from far away. It was the year of Jesus’ death, but who among them knew this? I have deliberately said ‘the death’ of Jesus, without mentioning his resurrection, because for the time being his resurrection was still confidential news. These were people who had come from all over and who had perhaps never even heard of a certain Jesus of Nazareth. 

They came to Jerusalem in the fervour, faith and enthusiasm of a pilgrimage to renew the Covenant with God. For the disciples, however, this feast of Pentecost, fifty days after his resurrection, is unlike any other, for to them nothing is as it was before; yet this does not mean they expect what is about to happen. To help us understand clearly what is happening, Luke recounts it by carefully evoking three passages from the Old Testament: first, the giving of the Law at Sinai; second, a word from the prophet Joel; third, the episode of the Tower of Babel. First, let us begin with Sinai: the tongues of fire at Pentecost, the sound ‘like a mighty wind’, bring to mind what had happened at Sinai, when God gave the tablets of the Law to Moses, as we read in the Book of Exodus (19:16–19). By drawing a parallel with the event at Sinai, Saint Luke wants us to understand that this Pentecost, that year, is much more than a traditional pilgrimage: it is a new Sinai. Just as God had given his Law to his people to teach them how to live within the Covenant, so now God gives his own Spirit to his people. Now God’s Law, which is the only means of living truly free and happy, is no longer written on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, in the heart of man, to borrow an image from Ezekiel. Secondly, Luke wished to evoke a word of the prophet Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (3:1–2), says God; “all flesh” meaning every human being. In Luke’s view, these Jews from every nation under heaven, as he calls them, symbolise the whole of humanity for whom Joel’s prophecy is finally fulfilled. This means that the famous, long-awaited “Day of the Lord” has arrived. Thirdly, we can summarise the story of Babel in two acts: Act 1, all people spoke the same language: they had the same speech and the same words, and they decided to undertake a great project that would mobilise all their energies: the construction of an immense tower. Act 2: God intervenes to put a stop to it: He scatters them across the face of the earth and confuses their languages. From then on, people will no longer understand one another. Unless one wishes to judge God’s intentions, it is impossible to imagine that he acted for any reason other than our happiness. Therefore, if God intervenes, it is to spare humanity a false path: the path of a single mindset, of a single project; something like ‘my children, you seek unity, and that is good; but do not go astray: unity does not lie in uniformity. True unity in love can only be found in diversity’. The account of Pentecost in Luke fits well within the narrative of Babel: at Babel, humanity learns diversity; at Pentecost, it learns unity in diversity: now all the nations under heaven hear the one message proclaimed in their various languages: the wonders of God.

Note: The first reading and the psalm are common to the feasts of Pentecost across the three liturgical years. However, the second reading and the Gospel vary each year.

Responsorial Psalm (103/104)

Read in its entirety, this psalm offers thirty-six verses of pure praise, of wonder at the works of God. It is not surprising that it is proposed to us for the feast of Pentecost, given that Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, recounts that on the morning of Pentecost the Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim the wonders of God in every language. One might observe that to marvel at creation there is no need to have faith, and in every civilisation one finds magnificent poems on the beauties of nature. In Egypt, on the tomb of a Pharaoh, a poem written by the famous Pharaoh Akhenaten was discovered: a hymn to the Sun-God. Amenhotep IV lived around 1350 BC, at a time when the Jews were probably in Egypt and would have known this poem. There are similarities in style and vocabulary between the Pharaoh’s poem and Psalm 103/104. The language of wonder is the same across all latitudes, but what is interesting are the differences, which are the hallmark of the Revelation given to the people of the Covenant. The first difference, and it is essential to the faith of Israel, is that God alone is God; there is no other God but him; and therefore the sun is not a god. The Bible puts the sun and the moon in their place: they are not gods but merely luminaries, creatures themselves: one of the verses of the psalm states this clearly: “You, God, have made the moon to mark the seasons and the sun that knows the hour of its setting.” There are verses not chosen for the feast of Pentecost which clearly present God as the sole Lord of Creation, and a wholly regal vocabulary is used: God is presented as a magnificent, majestic and victorious King. A second distinctive feature of the Bible: creation is only good, and one hears an echo of the poem in Genesis which repeats tirelessly, like a refrain, “And God saw that it was good!”. Psalm 103/104 evokes all the elements of creation with the same wonder: I rejoice in the Lord, and the psalmist adds, in a verse we do not hear this Sunday: “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing hymns to my God as long as I exist…” Yet evil is not ignored: the end of the psalm clearly evokes it and hopes for its disappearance; but the people of the Old Testament had understood that evil is not God’s doing, for the whole of creation is good. And we know that one day God will remove all evil from the earth: the King who triumphs over the elements will overcome everything that stands in the way of human happiness. A third distinctive feature of the faith of Israel: creation is an enduring relationship between the Creator and his creatures. When we say in the Creed, “I believe in God the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth”, we are not merely affirming our faith in an initial act of God, but we acknowledge ourselves to be in a relationship of dependence on him, and the psalm expresses this very well: “All wait for you… Hide your face: they fail; take away their breath: they die and return to their dust. Send forth your Spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” Another distinctive feature of the faith of Israel is that at the summit of creation stands man,  created to be the king of creation, filled with the very breath of God. And this  is what we celebrate at Pentecost: the Spirit of God within us vibrates in his presence, and the psalmist sings, “Let the Lord rejoice in his works… I will rejoice in the Lord.”  Finally, and this is very important, in Israel every reflection on creation is set within the perspective of the Covenant: having experienced God’s work of liberation, they meditated on creation in the light of this experience, and in this psalm we find traces of this: first of all, the name of God used here is the famous four-letter name, YHWH, which we translate as Lord, the revelation of the God of the Covenant.

Furthermore, “Lord, my God, how great you are!” The expression “my God” with the possessive is always a reference to the Covenant, since God’s plan in this Covenant was precisely stated in the formula “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. This promise is fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit “to every person”, as the prophet Joel says. Now, every person is invited to receive the gift of the Spirit to truly become a child of God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (12:3b-7, 12-13)

Paul defines the Church as the place where “to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good”, not therefore for our own vanity, but for the good of all. And it is a free gift for all, just as the members of the body are freely at the service of the whole body. The work of the Spirit in the world resembles an immense mosaic with different pieces held together and united by the invisible action of the Spirit. As communities multiply, the mosaic spreads like wildfire and becomes ever more harmonious. In these communities, Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free men, break down the barriers of prejudice and division, recognising one another as brothers and sisters, members of a single body thanks to the one Baptism that incorporates us all into Christ. Paul certainly had good reasons to insist on unity, for the Christians in Corinth were of such diverse origins—Jews or Gentiles with conflicting sensitivities and religious traditions—and at times the early believers found it difficult to accept the newcomers. To place Jews and pagans on the same religious footing, given the weight that the election of Israel must have carried in Paul’s eyes, was nonetheless very bold! These issues and difficulties, present and highlighted by Paul in the Corinthian community, have not been absent over the centuries and persist even today within the Church. The law that animates believers is always the word of Jesus, who urged the apostles: “You know that the rulers of the nations lord it over them, and the great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” (Mt 20:25–26). Paul sees the Church not as a pyramid, but as a crowd gathered around Jesus Christ, the one Master, and, furthermore, as a living body made up of all the baptised, where those in authority do not view it as superiority, but as a mission in the service of all. Diversity becomes a mutual gift for everyone: “There are different charisms,” observes the Apostle, “and to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” Our differences thus become riches, and it is precisely through them that unity is built—a unity that is never uniformity, or worse, standardisation. Herein lies one of the great messages of Pentecost, where all the different languages come together to sing the same song, “the wonders of God”. Since then, the Church has sought to overcome differences in sensibility by learning to live through the labour of reconciliation, sustained by the Spirit given to us at Pentecost, the Spirit of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. The capacity for reconciliation and mutual respect is a true sign of the Spirit’s action and a witness that the world awaits: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another,” said Jesus at the Last Supper (Jn 13:35). Unity in diversity is a beautiful challenge that we can overcome only because the Spirit has been given to us: the same Spirit, the Spirit of Love that unites the Father and the Son. From the lesson of Babel we understand that unity does not lie in uniformity, and from Pentecost we understand that true unity in love can only be found in diversity and is always a gift of the Spirit and an image on earth of the Trinitarian communion, the perichoresis between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

From the Gospel according to John (20:19–23)

 To impart the Holy Spirit to his disciples, Jesus breathes on them; this brings to mind the famous phrase from the Book of Genesis, chapter 2: ‘The Lord God breathed into the man’s nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being’. And Psalm 103/104, which we also hear on this feast of Pentecost, comments on the text of Creation by singing: Send forth your Spirit, and all things shall be created. Now, it is the evening of Easter and Jesus takes up this gesture of the Creator. We can understand why Saint John notes: “It was the evening of that day, the first of the week”, a way of saying that it is the first day of the new creation. The Jews often recalled the creation that God had accomplished in seven days, as we read in the first chapter of Genesis, and awaited the eighth day, that of the Messiah. In his own way, John tells us: the eighth day has come and it is a true re-creation of humanity. Let us take up three phrases from the account of Pentecost that John offers us here. The first: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”; the second: “He breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit”; and the third: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them”. The first and third phrases express a mission; the second speaks of the gift, namely the Holy Spirit given to fulfil the mission received. And this mission consists in “forgiving sins”. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. Jesus is the one sent by the Father, and we, who are sent by Jesus, have the same mission as him. This speaks to our responsibility, the trust placed in us, and concerns all the baptised, since the Church has always deemed it appropriate to confirm all the baptised. Jesus’ mission, to limit ourselves to the Gospel of John, is to take away the sin of the world, indeed to “eradicate” the sin of the world, being the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sin of the world, as John the Baptist had prophesied. The Lamb, meek and humble of heart in the face of his executioners according to the prophecy of Isaiah 52–53, is the Paschal Lamb, who seals with his life the liberation of God’s people. Beyond the liberation of the chosen people from slavery in Egypt, the Gospel speaks to us of liberation from sin, hatred and violence. Jesus thus presents his mission: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” We must keep these words of the Lord in mind to understand the phrase in today’s text that is not immediately clear: “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; whose sins you do not forgive, they are not forgiven.” Or, according to another version, “Whose sins you remit, they are remitted; whose sins you do not remit, they are not remitted.” The first part of the sentence presents no difficulty, but the second may not be easily understood. It is impossible to think that God, who is Father, could fail to forgive us. The Old Testament had already highlighted that God’s forgiveness even precedes our repentance, for in God forgiveness is not a one-off act but defines his very being. God is gift and forgiveness. The hallmark of mercy is God’s bending down towards the wretched—that is, towards all of us.  The power given to the disciples—indeed, the mission entrusted to them—is to communicate and pass on God’s forgiveness. Consequently, there is the terrible responsibility, expressed in the second part of the sentence, not merely to speak the word of God’s forgiveness, but to do everything possible so that the world does not ignore this forgiveness and thus fall prey to despair. God’s forgiveness, proclaimed through words and concrete actions, makes us ‘living forgiveness’, apostles of Divine Mercy. At Pentecost, God breathes the words of forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit continues to breathe words and gestures of forgiveness into our spirit, making us ‘lambs of God’ with the power to overcome the spiral of hatred and violence. “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” to respond to violence and hatred with non-violence, meekness and forgiveness, thus hastening the arrival of the day when all humanity will live immersed in love and forgiveness: it will be the triumph of Divine Mercy!

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Ascension of the Lord (year A) and VII Easter Sunday [Thursday 14 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:1–11)

The opening verses serve as a bridge between the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel of Luke, which is also dedicated to a certain Theophilus. One begins where the other ends, namely with the account of Jesus’ Ascension, even though the two accounts do not agree on everything. The Gospel recounts Jesus’ mission and preaching; the second is dedicated to the mission and preaching of the Apostles, hence the name “Acts of the Apostles”. The parallel can be taken further: the Gospel begins and ends in Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish world and of the First Covenant; the Acts begin in Jerusalem, because the New Covenant is a continuation of the First, but they end in Rome, the crossroads of all the roads of the then-known world: the New Covenant now extends beyond the borders of Israel. For Luke, it is clear that this expansion is the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the very Spirit of Jesus and will be the inspiration of the Apostles from Pentecost onwards, so much so that the Acts are often called “the Gospel of the Spirit”. Just as Jesus had prepared for his mission with forty days in the desert after his Baptism, so too does he prepare the Church for forty days: “For forty days he appeared to them and spoke about the kingdom of God”. During a final meal, he gives his instructions: a command, a promise, a sending forth on mission. The command is almost surprising: to wait and not to move. “He instructed them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise.” That the Father’s promises would be fulfilled in Jerusalem certainly did not surprise the Eleven, all of whom were Jews, for the entire preaching of the prophets assigned Jerusalem a decisive role in the fulfilment of God’s plan. Luke specifies the content of the promise: “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’ time.” The apostles had in mind the prophecies of Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all people” (Joel 3:1–2), and of Zechariah: “On that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and impurity” (Zech 13:1)  and Ezekiel: “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be cleansed… I will give you a new heart, and  I will put a new spirit within you… I will put my Spirit within you” (Ezek 36:25–27).

The apostles’ question “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” shows that they had clearly understood that the famous Day of the Lord had dawned. Jesus’ reply should not surprise us: God calls upon human cooperation to bring about his plan, and the salvation of God, which has come through Jesus Christ, calls upon people to enter into it. For this to happen, people must know of it, and from this arises the mission and responsibility of the Apostles. The Spirit is given to them for this purpose: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” This means that between the gift of the Spirit and the definitive coming of the Kingdom there is an interval which is the time of witness: an interval that is all the longer the more the message is to be brought to all humanity. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” The Book of Acts follows this plan exactly. Just as on Easter morning “two men in dazzling robes” had torn the women away from their contemplation, saying, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen”, so on the day of the Ascension two men in white robes do the same with the Apostles: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing into the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven”. He will return, we are certain of it, and that is why we say at every Eucharist: “As we await the fulfilment of our blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ”. In the Bible, the cloud is the visible sign of God’s presence, as at the crossing of the Red Sea or at the Transfiguration. The cloud that hides Jesus from human sight is the sign that he has now entered God’s realm: his physical and visible presence thus ceases to inaugurate his spiritual presence. It is impossible to reconstruct exactly what happened between Jesus’ Resurrection, on Easter night, and the day he definitively left his apostles to return to the Father. In Luke’s accounts, in both the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, the two narratives are very similar: Jesus’ departure takes place near Jerusalem, for the Gospel speaks of Bethany and the Acts of the Mount of Olives; in both, Luke specifies that Jesus instructs the disciples not to leave Jerusalem before they have received the Holy Spirit. The only difference concerns the timing: in the Gospel, it seems that the departure takes place on Easter evening itself; after appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they return to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven everything; and it is whilst they are talking together that Jesus appears, stays with them, and explains the Scriptures; then he leads them to Bethany and there disappears from their sight for good. In Acts, however, Luke specifies that forty days elapsed between Easter and the Ascension; and this is why we celebrate the the Ascension forty days after Easter. In the other Gospels there is almost nothing on this: in Matthew there is no account of the Ascension, but only an appearance of Jesus to two women who had gone to the tomb and then to the disciples in Galilee, during which he utters the phrase with which his Gospel concludes: “ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit’ John gives a more detailed account of several appearances of the Risen One, one to Mary Magdalene and three to the disciples, the last by the Sea of Tiberias; but he does not recount the Ascension. As for Mark, he recounts the appearance to Mary Magdalene, then to two disciples who were going out into the countryside, and finally to the Eleven. Jesus sends them to preach the Gospel to the whole world, and Mark concludes by saying: “The Lord Jesus, after speaking to them, was taken up into heaven and sat at the right hand of God” . These differences between the Gospels prove that their details do not aim at historical or geographical reality: Matthew has his reasons for speaking of Galilee. Luke, on the other hand, has his own reasons for emphasising Jerusalem, because it was there that Jesus told them to wait for the gift of the Spirit, and Luke’s Gospel ends with Jesus’ final instruction: “And behold, I am sending upon you the one whom my Father has promised; but you must remain in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Lk 24:49).

Responsorial Psalm (46/47)

Here Israel sings and acclaims God as its king, and this is not surprising; but what is even more astonishing is that it says God is the king of the whole earth. Now, this was not always the view in Israel. Before the Babylonian Exile, none of the kings of Israel imagined that God was the Lord of the entire universe. This means that the psalm was composed late in the history of the chosen people. I shall focus on the first statement: God is the king of Israel. For a long period of biblical history, Israel had kings, like its neighbouring peoples, but its conception of kingship was unique, and this distinctiveness persisted throughout its history. In Israel, the king could never claim to be the highest authority in the land and did not hold absolute power, for God remained the sovereign. In other words, the true king in Israel was none other than God Himself. The king, for example, could not interpret the laws as he pleased and  had, like everyone else, to submit to the Law of God given to Moses on Mount Sinai. According to the Book of Deuteronomy, he was required to read the entire Law every day of his life. Even whilst sitting on the throne, he was, in principle, merely an executor of God’s commands conveyed by the prophets. In the Books of Kings, in fact, we often see one king or another seeking the consent of the prophet of the day before going into battle or even, in David’s case, before undertaking the construction of the Temple. And on several occasions we see the prophets intervening freely in the lives of the kings and sometimes violently criticising their behaviour. The affirmation of God’s sovereignty was even a hindrance to the establishment of the monarchy. One recalls the very violent reaction of the prophet Samuel, in the time of the Judges, when the leaders of the tribes of Israel came to tell him that they wanted a king ‘to be like the other nations’. To desire to be ‘like the other nations’ when one had the honour of being the people chosen by God for the covenant was, in his eyes, a true blasphemy. He eventually yielded to the insistence of the tribal leaders, but not without warning them that they were bringing ruin upon themselves. And when he anointed the first king, Saul, he took care to specify that he was becoming the head of God’s inheritance. The people remained God’s people and not the king’s, and the king was but a servant of God. And throughout the monarchy in Israel, the prophets took it upon themselves to remind the kings of this fundamental truth. To the extent that the Books of Kings, when recounting the successive reigns, have but one criterion of judgement: the faithfulness of each king to God’s will. One phrase recurs constantly: ‘Such-and-such a king did what was right in the eyes of the Lord’, or conversely, ‘Such-and-such a king did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord’. It is therefore in honour of God himself that our psalm deploys here the entire vocabulary otherwise reserved for the kings of the earth. The very word ‘awesome’ is a compliment; it is a common term in courtly language and is reassuring: the enemies are warned, our king will be invincible. In every line of this psalm, it is clear that we are speaking of the God of Sinai, the Lord, who is acclaimed as God and King of the entire universe. This universal dimension is very much present in the psalm, to the point of stating that “God reigns over the pagan nations”. Now, the discovery of monotheism dates only to the Babylonian Exile: until then, the people of Israel were not yet monotheists. To be monotheists means to affirm that there is only one God, the same for the entire cosmos and humanity. Before the Exile, this was not the case: it is said that Israel was ‘monolatristic’; that is, it recognised for itself a single God, the God of the Sinai Covenant. But it believed that other peoples had their own gods. This psalm was therefore probably composed after the return from the Exile, and it was not in the throne room that these acclamations resounded, but in the rebuilt Temple of Jerusalem. Even now, the Jews already imagine the Day when God will finally be recognised for what He is, the Father of all goodness. We Christians, in turn, take up this psalm. And the phrase “God ascends amidst the acclamations” is most fitting for the celebration of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Even though Christ’s kingship has not yet been fully realised and the evangelists do not recount any coronation ceremony for Christ. All the more reason to pay Jesus this magnificent tribute now, which merely anticipates the last day when all the children of God, finally gathered together, will sing: “All you peoples, clap your hands! Acclaim God with shouts of joy” 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Ephesians (1:17–23)

The Letter to the Ephesians is divided into two parts: in chapters 1–3 there is a lengthy contemplation of God’s plan, and in chapters 4–6 an exhortation to the baptised to conform their lives to this mystery. For the feast of the the Ascension, the liturgy offers a passage from the first part in Year A and from the second part in Year B. The first part begins with a lengthy blessing formula in the Jewish style, which in our Christian liturgy we might call a ‘preface’, and it concerns God’s ‘merciful plan’ (Eph 1:3–6). The baptised already share in this mysterious plan of God which, one day, will be extended to all humanity. And Paul speaks of the privilege of us Christians who, having heard the word of truth, that is, the Gospel, have received the seal of the Holy Spirit, a pledge of our inheritance, whilst we await full redemption.  We find all these terms in today’s reading, but in the form of a prayer, generally known as the ‘prayer for enlightenment’, since it takes the light of God to penetrate even a little into this mystery: “May he enlighten the eyes of your heart so that you may understand to what hope he has called you, what treasure of glory his inheritance among the saints holds…” And we know full well that the understanding of which he speaks is not a matter of reason but of the heart, a profound openness to being taught and enlightened. And Paul, as a Jew, knows full well that God’s wisdom is inaccessible to man unless God himself reveals himself to him: “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation for a deeper knowledge of him.” And what lies at the end of this knowledge towards which we are journeying? An inheritance of inestimable value, says Paul. The word “inheritance” in verse 18, and indeed in verse 14, recurs frequently in the Bible: in the Old Testament it refers to the land promised by God to the faithful. The same term is taken up in the New Testament, particularly in Paul’s letters, to denote the Kingdom and eternal life. For example: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God. And if we are children, we are also heirs: heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ’ (Rom 8:16–17). ‘Giving thanks with joy to the Father who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light’ (Col 1:12). ‘ All nations are called, in Christ Jesus, to share in the same inheritance, to form the same body and to be partakers of the same promise through the Gospel” (Eph 3:8). James also develops this theme: “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world, who are rich in faith and heirs of the Kingdom, promised to those who love him?” (Jas 2:5) .  And the Letter to the Hebrews, for its part, often takes up the theme: “God, who in times past spoke to our ancestors many times and in various ways through the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things and through whom he also made the world” (Heb 1:1–2); and a little further on: “That those who have been called may receive the eternal inheritance that was promised” (Heb 9:15) For, and this is the profound reason for Paul’s wonder, the Lord’s disciples are already associated with the triumph of their risen Master. Nothing in this world need frighten them any longer, for death has been conquered and the gates to eternal life are open. The work that God accomplishes in the hearts of believers is a true inner resurrection. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew 28:16–20

Here is Jesus’ farewell discourse, after the Resurrection, in Galilee, commonly called the ‘crossroads of the Gentiles’, the ‘Galilee of the nations’, for the Apostles’ mission now concerns ‘all nations’ . The Gospel of Matthew seems to end abruptly: but in reality, the adventure is just beginning. It is like a film in which the word “THE END” appears on a road stretching out towards infinity. For it is precisely towards infinity that Jesus sends them: the immensity of the world and the infinity of the ages. “Go… Make disciples of all nations… Until the end of the world.” But were the disciples ready for such a mission? If Jesus were a business leader, he could not risk entrusting the future of his enterprise to collaborators like these, who seem not to have fully absorbed all the training he had provided over months. They are mistaken about the objective, the timing, and the nature of the enterprise. They even go so far as to doubt the reality they are experiencing, for Matthew clearly states, “some, however, doubted” (Mt 28:17). The mission entrusted to them, fraught with risks, is to promote a message that still surprises them. Folly, the wise would say; the wisdom of God, Saint Paul would reply. This is certainly no trivial undertaking: it surpasses everything the human spirit can imagine or conceive. It is a matter of communication between God and humankind. He who kindled the spark entrusts to his disciples the task of spreading the fire: “Go! Make disciples of all nations: baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”: we do not often have the opportunity to dwell on this extraordinary formula of our faith. It is, in fact, the first formulation of the mystery of the Trinity: the expression “in the name of”, common in the Bible, signifies that there is indeed one God; at the same time, the three Persons are named and clearly distinguished: “ In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. If we recall that, in the Bible, the Name is the person, and that to baptise etymologically means “to immerse”, this means that Baptism literally immerses us in the Trinity. We understand Jesus’s peremptory command to his disciples: “Go”; there is urgency. How can we not be eager to see all humanity take advantage of this offer? At the same time, it must be said that this formula, so familiar to us, was a true revolution for the generation of Christ! Proof of this is that when the apostles Peter and John healed the lame man at the Beautiful Gate, the authorities immediately asked: “By what power or in whose name have you done this?” (Acts 4:7), because it was not permitted to invoke any name other than that of God. Jesus speaks precisely of God, but his statement mentions three persons, whereas God was one; the prophets had made this clear enough. The Jews’ misunderstanding of Christ’s followers is recorded here; persecution was inevitable. Jesus knows this, and he had warned them on the last evening: “ They will expel you from the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think they are offering worship to God, that is, they will think they are defending God’s honour (Jn 16:2)… And Jesus added: ‘They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me’ (Jn 16:3). The mission entrusted to the apostles truly seems like madness; but they are not alone, and this must never be forgotten. Insofar as our commitment is not our own but His, we have no reason to worry about the results: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go!” (Mt 28:18–19). In other words, it is we who go, but it is he who has all power. It is said that a few days after his election, John XXIII received a visit from a friend: “Most Holy Father,” he said, “how heavy the task must be!” John XXIII replied: “It’s true, in the evening, when I lie down, I think: ‘Angelo, you are the Pope,’ and I struggle to fall asleep; but after a few minutes I say to myself: ‘Angelo, how stupid you are, you are not the one in charge of the Church, it is the Holy Spirit.’ Then I turn over and fall asleep!” For us too, evangelisation must be our passion, not our anguish. Jesus made it quite clear: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” This sentence alone sums up the life of Christ: this takes place on a mountain, we do not know which one, but it evokes both the Mount of Temptation and the Mount of Transfiguration. On the Mount of Temptation, Jesus refused to receive power over creation from anyone other than the Father: “The devil took him up to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour, and said to him: “All these things I will give you if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus answered him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written: “You shall worship the Lord your God, and him alone shall you serve”’ (cf. Mt 4:8–10). This power, which Jesus did not claim nor purchase, is given to him by the Father. And now this power is in our hands! “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go! And Jesus adds, ‘I am with you always, even to the end of the age.’ The God of Presence revealed to Moses in the burning bush, the Emmanuel – which means ‘God with us’ – promised by Isaiah, are one in the Spirit of love that unites them. Ours is the mission to reveal to the world this loving presence of the Triune God.

Seventh Sunday in Easter  (year A)  [17 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:12–14)

The first sentence of the text sums up in a few words a crucial stage in the lives of the early Christians. For us it is the Ascension and we have made it a feast day, but, originally, was it not rather a day of mourning, a day of great departure? After the horror of Jesus’ Passion and death, after the splendour of the Resurrection, here they were, orphaned forever. But precisely for this reason they are closer to us, and their attitude can guide our own. Let us therefore look closely at their actions. Jesus had given them instructions: not to leave Jerusalem and to wait there for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Here is the account from the Acts: ‘While he was at table with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise. “‘What,’ he said, ‘you have heard from me: John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’” . And on the very day of his departure, on the Mount of Olives, he repeated: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” I dwell on this expression “the power of the Spirit”, which should reassure us in every circumstance. And Luke recounts: “Having said this, whilst they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.” Obviously, they obeyed the Master’s command. It is therefore no surprise to find them in Jerusalem shortly afterwards; Luke notes that the Mount of Olives is very close to the city: the distance does not exceed what is known as the ‘Sabbath journey’, that is, the maximum distance one may travel without violating the Sabbath rest; it was just under a kilometre, two thousand cubits, and a cubit, as the name suggests, is the length of the forearm, about fifty centimetres. But why does Luke give this precise measurement? Are we to infer that it was the Sabbath? Or, by emphasising the proximity of the Mount of Olives, does Luke wish to suggest that everything is fulfilled in Jerusalem? It is there that God’s plan is fulfilled: there the Son was glorified, there the Covenant between God and humanity was renewed, there the Spirit will be given. It is in the holy city, therefore, that the life of the nascent Church begins; and Luke lists those who make up the group: the Eleven, some women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, and some brothers, that is, probably disciples. Here too, the details are not merely anecdotal; we already knew the names of the apostles from Luke’s Gospel; if he gives us the list again, it is not to instruct us! Luke wishes to highlight the continuity within the community of the apostles: they are the very same who accompanied Jesus throughout his earthly life, and now they are committed to the mission. And they will be able to bear witness to the Resurrection only because they have been witnesses to the life, Passion and death of Jesus. We thus find again the group of people so different from one another whom Jesus had chosen: Peter, James, John and Andrew, fishermen on the Sea of Tiberias; Simon the Zealot—at the time of Jesus’ earthly life, this was not yet a political commitment, but it was already a sign of religious fanaticism. One wonders how he could stand alongside Matthew the tax collector, a tax collector in the pay of the occupying power and, for this reason, barred from worship! Not only did Jesus manage to bring them together around him, but they will now share the responsibility of continuing their Master’s mission. Christian tradition has identified Bartholomew with Nathanael, mentioned by Saint John, who was a specialist in the Law; if this were the case, it would have been a further point of diversity within the group of the Twelve. It is upon this community of men, so different from one another, that the proclamation of the Gospel now rests. A few brief observations: first of all, their group is not closed in on itself, but is already open to others, men and women; secondly, they begin this life of the Church in prayer, ‘devoted and of one accord’, as Luke emphasises. Perhaps the first miracle of the apostles is this praying together as one heart at the moment when the Master leaves them, and they find themselves seemingly left to their own devices and to their differences, which could have turned into divisions. In truth, they are only apparently left to their own devices: Jesus, though now invisible, is not absent. Matthew, in his Gospel, has preserved one of Jesus’ final words: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’ The apostles, therefore, do not pray for Jesus to draw near: his presence is assured; they pray to immerse themselves once more in his presence. This account from the Acts of the Apostles becomes for us a powerful lesson in hope: Jesus is with us always, his presence is assured, and the power of the Holy Spirit accompanies us! 

Responsorial Psalm (26/27)

This psalm is for those going through difficult times. Believers are not exempt from life’s trials, and faith is no magic wand. Sometimes they suffer precisely because of their faith, as in religious wars or persecutions, or due to the hostility of atheists and the struggle to defend Christian values in a world that does not share them. We shall find an example of this in the Letter of Saint Peter, this Sunday’s second reading. But in their trials, believers know they are not alone, abandoned to their sad fate, for they have someone to turn to: “It is to God that my eyes weep,” said Job (Job 16:20). And they go to seek strength where it is found, that is, in God. “The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?” We do not know to which specific trials this psalm alludes; incidentally, it is much longer than the few verses read here, but the missing verses provide no historical details. Here and there one senses an allusion to external attacks: “The Lord is the bulwark of my life: before whom should I tremble?”. Ever since the great adventure of the Exodus, Israel has been threatened in its very existence on numerous occasions. The first verse, “The Lord is my light and my salvation”, is probably also an allusion to the Exodus under Moses’s leadership: in the Sinai desert, the pillar of cloud lit the way and signified God’s presence. Salvation, then, meant escaping from Pharaoh; in every age, salvation takes different forms, and Israel has experienced all manner of them, evoked through allusions in the psalm. To say “The Lord is the bulwark of my life” brings to mind the long period of wars, and the best bulwark is the strength that God gives us. “If you do not believe, you will not stand firm,” Isaiah said to King Ahaz (Is 7:9). Faith is the only strength that enables us to face everything: “Whom shall I fear?”. This means that God protects us from all fear and that we do not even fear Him. In all trials and sufferings, the believer knows that they can cry out to God: indeed, it is even recommended in the Bible, for groaning, weeping and praying is not cowardly, but simply human, and it is to God that we must groan, weep and pray. “Hear, O Lord, I call upon you,” says the psalm, and of one thing the chosen people are certain: that God hears our cry. Let us think of the great revelation of the Burning Bush: “The cry of the children of Israel has come to me,” God said to Moses (Ex. 3:7–9). And from that day Israel has known that God hears the cry of those who suffer. We read in the psalm: “One thing I have asked of the Lord, this alone I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life”: like the Levite, admitted into the inner sanctum of the temple in Jerusalem, Israel asks for the grace to dwell in the presence of God. “Have mercy, answer me,” is a beggar’s cry and also a plea for forgiveness, for the expression that follows, “Seek my face,” is a call to conversion; for ever since settling in the Promised Land, the people have faced a new danger: that of unfaithfulness, that is, idolatry. However, when we read “Seek my face”, it is not God who thirsts for our homage and asks something of us for his own sake. God loves us, and all the commandments are for our happiness. St Augustine states: “Everything that man does for God benefits man and not God”. For God, the centre of the world is humanity, and He has no other purpose than our happiness—a happiness we find only when God is at the centre of our lives, for as St Augustine said: “You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” It is interesting to compare Psalm 26/27 with the Canticle of Zechariah, which we sing every morning in the Liturgy of the Hours.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (4:13–16)

In the early days of the Church, as we know from the Acts of the Apostles, the first disciples of Christ did not yet bear this name; they were called ‘Nazarenes’, because of Nazareth, and this name, used by the Jews who refused to recognise Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah awaited by Israel, was a derogatory term. Later, when Barnabas and Paul were carrying out their mission in Antioch of Syria, it was probably pagans who had not yet converted to the Christian Church who gave Jesus’ disciples the name ‘Christians’, which means ‘of Christ, belonging to Christ’. This new title of ‘Christian’ was not an honour either. The unconverted pagans viewed with suspicion the radical change of life taking place within the community of the baptised. Shortly before, in his letter, Peter writes: ‘They find it strange that you no longer rush with them towards the same torrent of perdition, and they revile you’; ‘They slander you, treating you as evildoers’. Here, Saint Peter speaks of the sufferings—that is, the misunderstanding, the isolation, the slander—of which Jesus was a victim because he continued to proclaim his message without letting anyone stop him, with that fidelity that cost him his life. In turn, the early Christians face the same hostility, and Peter seeks to give them the courage to hold firm whilst awaiting the day when the glory of Christ will be revealed—that is, the day when Jesus will come to inaugurate his kingdom among men. Peter goes even further: not only must one not be ashamed, but on the contrary, the title of ‘Christian’ is, in his eyes, the highest dignity: “Rejoice,” he tells them, because of the name ‘Christian’, which means ‘belonging to Christ’. Furthermore, when he says: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…” he is speaking of the Beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus: “Blessed are you when they revile you, persecute you and, lying, say all sorts of evil against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great!” . And Jesus, in saying this, was describing himself. Now Peter applies this description to those who, in turn, bear the name of Christ. He even says that “you share in the sufferings of Christ”, which means: “rejoice because you are intimately united with Christ in these sufferings you endure to remain faithful to his name and his mission. And since you are united to his sufferings, you will likewise be united to his glory on the day when the truth will burst forth.” It is clear, however, that suffering is not an end in itself, but the goal is to be united to Christ and to God in the Spirit of love, whatever the circumstances—happy or unhappy—may be in our lives. And Peter points to a way of facing persecution for the sake of Christ’s name: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…”. Here is a proclamation and an encouragement, for the day will come when Christ will be recognised by all, and you along with him; and on that day it will be recognised that you were not mistaken because Christ had deceived you. We therefore need the courage to persevere, for you have chosen the right path. The Book of Acts recounts that after being flogged, Peter and John “left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus”. Peter was only able to do this after Pentecost: one must be filled with the Spirit of Jesus to have the courage to face persecution in his name and to know that mysterious joy of being in communion with him, even in suffering, that joy which no one can take from us! The Church offers us this text from Peter as we await Pentecost, a special time for rediscovering the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of our communities. 

From the Gospel according to John (17:1b-11a)

These final words of Jesus: “I am coming to you” mysteriously draw us into Jesus’ prayer at the very moment he is about to reach the Father: “I am coming to you”. It is the Hour of the great passage: “Father, the hour has come”, that Hour of which he spoke many times during his earthly life, that Hour which he seemed both to desire and to fear. It is the decisive Hour, central to all human history, the Hour which all creation awaits as a birth: for it is the Hour of the fulfilment of God’s plan. From now on, nothing will ever be the same again. In this decisive Hour, the mystery of the Father will finally be revealed to the world: this is why Jesus repeatedly uses the words “glory” and “glorify”. A person’s glory, in the biblical sense, is not their fame or the recognition of others; it is their true worth. The glory of God is therefore God Himself, who reveals Himself to mankind in all the splendour of His holiness. The verb ‘to glorify’ can be replaced with ‘to reveal’. In this decisive Hour, God will be glorified, revealed in the Son, and believers will finally ‘know’ the Father; they will enter into that intimacy which unites the Son to the Father, and which the Son communicates to mankind. Those who accept this revelation and believe in Jesus will enter into this intimacy with the Father: they will enter into true life: “Eternal life is that they may know you, the one true God, and the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ”. Here, from the very mouth of Jesus, is a definition of eternal life: Jesus speaks in the present tense and describes eternal life as the state of those who know God and Christ. We already live this life from the moment of our Baptism. Speaking of his disciples, Jesus says: “They have truly known that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me.”  At that moment, only a portion of humanity received this revelation and entered into the communion of love offered by the Father, accepting to take the path opened by the Son; and it is for these few alone that Jesus prays: “I pray for them; I do not pray for the world, but for those whom you have given me…” It is the mystery of God’s choices that is repeated: just as the Father had chosen Abraham to reveal his great plan to him, he chose certain members of Abraham’s lineage to bring the revelation of his mystery to fulfilment: “I have made your name known to the people you have given me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you…” . For this small chosen people, the hour has come to continue the work of revelation: “I am no longer in the world; they, however, are in the world, and I am coming to you.” Jesus passes the baton to us in a way: he has given us everything; now it is up to us to give it to others. We must let Jesus’ insistence on the word “give” resound within us: the Father has given authority to the Son… the Son will give eternal life to mankind… the Father has given mankind to the Son… the Father has given his words to the Son… and the Son has given these words to his brothers. Jesus’ emphasis on the verb ‘to give’ permeates the entire biblical meditation: our relationship with God is not a matter of calculation. It is enough for us to allow ourselves to be loved and continually filled with his grace. The word ‘grace’ means a free gift. The logic of the gift, of gratuitousness, is that of the Son who lives eternally in a dialogue of love with the Father. In the prologue to his Gospel, John says that the Son is eternally ‘turned towards the Father’ (Jn 1:18) (“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the Father’s bosom, he has made him known.” The expression “in the Father’s bosom” (from the Greek eis ton kolpon tou Patros) is interpreted as: “turned towards the Father”, “in intimate communion with the Father”, “in the Father’s intimacy”. Thus the idea that the Son is eternally “turned towards the Father” arises from this verse, even though the expression “turned towards the Father” is a theological paraphrase, not a literal quotation. And since there is no shadow between them, he reflects the Father’s glory: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”. Between them, everything is love, dialogue, sharing: “All that is mine is yours, and all that is yours is mine”. The Prologue of John’s Gospel is illuminated by the reading of this prayer of Jesus; it is, as it were, its transposition (Jn 1:1–18).

+Giovanni D’Ercole