Mt 1:18-24 (1-24)
Contact with the earth: deviations and Ascent
Unassuming Incarnation, in subtlety and density
(Mt 1:1-17)
In the ancient East, genealogies referred only to men, and it is surprising that Matthew mentions the names of five women - considered only servile, unreliable creatures, impure by nature.
But in the story of Mary's four companions, there is something quite abnormal [also in terms of their chosen way of life], which is nevertheless worthwhile.
Here, then, we are challenged by the Gospel to consider the weight to be given to the rigidity of rules, which in the history of spirituality have often devoured the spontaneous being of those called by the Father (simply to express themselves).
Even cultures inspired by the Wisdom of Nature attest to their weight.
The Tao Tê Ching (LVII) writes: 'When the world is governed by correction, weapons are used with falsehood [...] For this reason, the saint says: I do not act, and the people transform themselves [...] I do not desire, and the people become simple'.
To reach the human fullness of the Son, God did not claim to overcome concrete events, but rather assumed and valued them.
The path that leads to Christ is not a matter of climbing, nor of results or performances to be calibrated ever better in a linear crescendo that is therefore moralising and dirigiste (which does not impose changes that matter, nor solve real problems).
Commenting on the Tao (i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'Mystery is Heaven. It says that both the man who has desires and the man who has none receive equally from Heaven. Within Heaven there is another Heaven; in Heaven there is density and tenuity'.
In history, the Eternal One manages to give wings not so much to strength and genius, but to all poor origins, to the pettiness of our nature, which suddenly turns into totally unpredictable wealth.
And if we continually tear the thread, the Lord re-knots it - not to fix it, patch it up and resume as before, but to weave an entirely new fabric. Starting precisely from the falls.
It is those moments of down-to-earth discrimination that force humanity to change direction symbolically and not repeat itself, stagnating in the circuit of the usual cerebral and purist perimeters - habitual, and where everything is normal.
Following inner crashes and rethinking, how many people have realised their destiny, deviating from the quiet, protected and comfortable path that had been laid out for them (Cottolengo, Mother Teresa, and so on)!
From the mud of the swamp sprout beautiful, clean flowers, which do not even resemble those that we had ever imagined we would be able to contemplate in the various stages of life.
The tumbles of the protagonists of the history of salvation did not come about because of weakness. They were signs of a bad or partial use of resources; stimuli to change our perspective, re-evaluate our point of view and many hopes.
Those collapses presented new challenges: they were interpreted as strong provocations to shift energies and change course.
The recoveries that followed the downturns turned into new opportunities, completely unexpected, completely at odds with the ready-made solutions that stifle character.
Even our crisis only becomes serious when failures do not lead to new insights and different paths that we had not thought of (perhaps in any of our good intentions).
This link between our depths and the heights of the Spirit is strange: it is the Incarnation, not a theory - it is all reality.
There is no Gift that resembles us at the divine level and that comes to us without passing through and involving the dimension of finitude.
The holes in the water convey the entirely human nature of what we are - behind the illusions or appearances that we do not want to give up, in order to convince ourselves that we are instead identified 'characters'.
But the ambivalences and flaws continue to want to shift our gaze and destiny elsewhere, away from common expectations [today even the paroxysm of the point in the polls].
Behind the mask and beyond the beliefs acquired from the environment, from manners or procedures... there is the great Secret of the Father about us.
It is precisely the descents that spiritualise, through a work of the soul that is spurred on by events, so that it turns to acquire new awareness, internalises different evaluations, sees and embraces other varied horizons, including missionary ones.
The crack that brings us down can be more substantial than any progress; not because it initiates an asceticism: it becomes contact with the 'earth' - where we find the lifeblood that truly corresponds to us, to regenerate.
The decline or even the ruin of a reassuring status has a propulsive, regenerative, transmutative function in every event; normal, after all, and in which the history of God is totally recognised.
To internalise and live the message:
What were your turning points?
What detour has fulfilled you?
Not only through men, but with them
With today's Liturgy, we enter the last stretch of the Advent journey, which urges us to intensify our preparation to celebrate the Lord's Christmas with faith and joy, welcoming with intimate wonder God who draws near to man, to each one of us.
The first reading presents us with the elderly Jacob gathering his sons for a blessing: it is an event of great intensity and emotion. This blessing is like a seal of fidelity to the covenant with God, but it is also a prophetic vision that looks ahead and points to a mission. Jacob is the father who, through the not always straightforward paths of his own history, comes to the joy of gathering his sons around him and tracing the future of each one and their descendants. In particular, today we heard the reference to the tribe of Judah, whose royal strength is exalted, represented by the lion, as well as to the monarchy of David, represented by the sceptre, the staff of command, which alludes to the coming of the Messiah. Thus, in this double image, we see the future mystery of the lion who becomes a lamb, of the king whose staff of command is the Cross, the sign of true kingship. Jacob gradually became aware of God's primacy, understood that his journey was guided and sustained by the Lord's faithfulness, and could only respond with full adherence to God's covenant and plan of salvation, becoming in turn, together with his descendants, a link in the divine plan.
The passage from Matthew's Gospel presents us with the "genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham" (Mt 1:1), further emphasising and explaining God's faithfulness to his promise, which he fulfils not only through men, but with them and, as with Jacob, sometimes through tortuous and unexpected ways. The expected Messiah, the object of the promise, is true God, but also true man; Son of God, but also Son born of the Virgin, Mary of Nazareth, holy flesh of Abraham, in whose seed all the peoples of the earth will be blessed (cf. Gen 22:18). In this genealogy, in addition to Mary, four women are mentioned. They are not Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, that is, the great figures of the history of Israel. Paradoxically, instead, they are four pagan women: Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Tamar, who apparently "disturb" the purity of a genealogy. But in these pagan women, who appear at decisive moments in the history of salvation, the mystery of the church of the pagans, the universality of salvation, shines through. They are pagan women in whom the future, the universality of salvation, appears. They are also sinful women, and so the mystery of grace also appears in them: it is not our works that redeem the world, but it is the Lord who gives us true life. They are sinful women, yes, in whom the greatness of the grace we all need appears. However, these women reveal an exemplary response to God's faithfulness, showing faith in the God of Israel. And so we see the church of the pagans, the mystery of grace, faith as a gift and as a path to communion with God. Matthew's genealogy, therefore, is not simply a list of generations: it is history made primarily by God, but with the response of humanity. It is a genealogy of grace and faith: it is precisely on God's absolute faithfulness and on the solid faith of these women that the continuation of the promise made to Israel rests.
[Pope Benedict, homily at the Aletti Centre, 17 December 2009]
Man, God's surname
Man is God's surname: the Lord takes the name of each one of us — whether we are saints or sinners — and makes it his own surname. Because by becoming incarnate, the Lord made history with humanity: his joy was to share his life with us, 'and this makes us weep: so much love, so much tenderness'.
With Christmas now imminent, Pope Francis commented on Tuesday 17 December on the two readings proposed by the liturgy of the word, taken respectively from Genesis (49:2, 8-10) and the Gospel of Matthew (1:1-17). On his 77th birthday, the Holy Father presided as usual over morning Mass in the chapel of Santa Marta. Among those concelebrating was Cardinal Dean Angelo Sodano, who conveyed the best wishes of the entire College of Cardinals.
In his homily, which focused on God's presence in human history, the Bishop of Rome identified two terms — inheritance and genealogy — as the keys to interpreting the first reading (concerning Jacob's prophecy as he gathers his sons and predicts a glorious lineage for Judah) and the Gospel passage containing the genealogy of Jesus, respectively. Focusing in particular on the latter, he emphasised that it is not 'a telephone directory', but 'an important subject: it is pure history', because 'God sent his son' among men. And, he added, "Jesus is consubstantial with the Father, God; but also consubstantial with the mother, a woman. And this is the consubstantiality of the mother: God became history, God wanted to become history. He is with us. He has walked with us."
A journey, continued the Bishop of Rome, that began long ago, in Paradise, immediately after the original sin. From that moment, in fact, the Lord "had this idea: to walk with us." Therefore, "he called Abraham, the first name on this list, and invited him to walk. And Abraham began that journey: he begot Isaac, and Isaac begot Jacob, and Jacob begot Judah." And so on, throughout human history. "God walks with his people," therefore, because "he did not want to come to save us without history; he wanted to make history with us."
A history, said the Pontiff, made up of holiness and sin, because in the list of Jesus' genealogy there are saints and sinners. Among the former, the Pope recalled "our father Abraham" and "David, who converted after his sin". Among the latter, he identified "high-level sinners who committed grave sins," but with whom God nevertheless "made history." Sinners who were unable to respond to the plan God had imagined for them: like "Solomon, so great and intelligent, who ended up as a poor man who did not even know his own name." Yet, Pope Francis noted, God was also with him. "And this is the beauty of it: God makes history with us. What's more, when God wants to say who he is, he says: I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob."
That is why, when asked "what is God's surname?", Pope Francis can answer: "It is us, each one of us. He takes his name from us to make it his surname." . And in the example offered by the Pontiff, there are not only the fathers of our faith, but also ordinary people. "I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Pedro, Marietta, Armony, Marisa, Simone, everyone. He takes his surname from us. God's surname is each one of us," he explained.
Hence the observation that by taking "the surname from our name, God has made history with us"; indeed, more than that: "He has allowed us to write history". And we continue to write "this history" today, which is made up of "grace and sin", while the Lord never tires of following us: " this is God's humility, God's patience, God's love." After all, even "the book of Wisdom says that the joy of the Lord is among the children of man, with us."
So, as "Christmas approaches," Pope Francis — as he himself confided at the end of his reflection — naturally thought: " If he has made his history with us, if he has taken his surname from us, if he has let us write his history," we, for our part, should let God write ours. Because, he clarified, "holiness" is precisely "letting the Lord write our history." And this is the Christmas wish that the Pontiff wanted to make "for all of us." . A wish that is an invitation to open our hearts: "Let the Lord write your story and let him write it."
[Pope Francis, homily at St. Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano, 18/12/2013]
Annunciation to Joseph: meaning and value of Doubt
(Mt 1:16, 18-21, 24)
"Even through Joseph's anguish, God's will, his history, his plan, comes through. Joseph thus teaches us that having faith in God also means believing that He can work even through our fears, our fragility, our weakness. He teaches us that, in the midst of life's storms, we must not be afraid to let God steer our boat. Sometimes we would like to control everything, but He always has a broader view" [Patris Corde n.2].
In Matthew's infancy Gospels, God takes on two names: Redeemer [Yeshua: God is Saviour] and With-us. The meaning of these divine prerogatives is not mechanical, but theological.
The proper name of the Son Jesus describes his work of restoring all being. And the characteristic attribute Immanuel (taken from Isaiah) specifies its many addresses - its many locations, which are each of us, growing over time.
Incarnation: the Father stands alongside his sons and daughters. Not only is he not afraid of becoming impure through contact with things that concern human dynamics, but he even recognises himself in their condition.
For this reason, Joseph's embarrassment even leads to the culmination of the entire history of salvation.
Sources attest that he was by no means a character with a lily in his hand, but perhaps this is only of interest to us to a certain extent.
Matthew's narrative is striking because the turning point and the possibilities of the irruption (of the summit itself) of God's plan for humanity seem to spring not from certainty but from doubt.
The question mark is engaging. Discomfort sows a new seed. It tears down and destroys the identical seedlings of the weeds that infest a full life - which was a law chiselled on appearances.
The 'problem' leads us to dream of other horizons to open up, and in the first person, because the solution is not at hand.
Perplexity leads us out of the mental cages that mortify relationships previously reduced to case studies - overlooking the mechanisms that depersonalise.
Perplexity makes us go beyond common opinion, which attenuates and extinguishes the Newness of God.
Hesitation seeks existential cracks, because it wants to introduce us to territories of life - where others can also draw on different experiences, varied perceptions, and moments in which to receive decisive insights as gifts.
His wise Energy finds breaches and small openings; it acts to make us evolve as children of Eternity - even by arousing discomforts that flood existence with creative suspensions and new passion.
Its lucid Action introduces itself through Dreams that shake off the usual plans, or states of mind that put us in the balance; and the bottlenecks of marginalised thinking that allow us to rediscover the reason why we were born, to discover our place in the world.
Every oscillation, every pain, every danger, every move, can become a birth towards Originality - without first identifying ourselves.
Uniqueness does not cause us to lose sight of the Source that 'watches over' us. Woe betide us if we shy away: we would lose our destination.
This is while the circles of the resolute remain there and wither, precisely because they are always ready to explain everything.
So, for example, as with the Family of Nazareth, life in solitude - whether forced or not - becomes regenerating rather than terrible.
The Spirit that slips into the cracks of standard mentalities finds an intimate 'point' that allows us to flourish differently now, able to bring out the essence of who we truly are, ceasing to copy clichés.
So instead of wondering why something happened, after the first discriminating experience that does not fear the fear of remaining isolated, perhaps we return more frequently to our Core, which constantly gushes for a higher Dialogue.
Then we will not continue to ask ourselves, 'But whose fault is it? How can we remedy the situation? Who should we rely on?'. Rather: 'What new life do I need to explore? What is still to be discovered?'.
We will emerge with a very different virtue of vocation, because the Holy Spirit breaks through the cracks in the norms that make us conformists, then dismantles and overturns those walls. Finally, it spreads, to build its own story - which is not predictable, 'by the book' like that of all those bound by comparison.
Feeling the discomfort of participating in rituals of composed identification causes many problems, but it can be a great opportunity in life to broaden one's horizons... even for those who do not like to take the mediocre path of reassurance - making themselves dependent on opinion, clichés, and feeling immediately celebrated out of fear.
Apparent happiness. In fact, the bite of doubt does not turn us into trashy believers, as hypothesised in disciplined, legalistic religions - in puritanical philosophies with artificial wisdom - but rather into friends, adopted children [i.e. chosen] and heirs.
Thanks to the Relationship of Faith, we are no longer lost in the desert - because the many things and risks become a dialogue of specific weight: we are at Home, respecting our mysterious character and Calling.
Already here and now, we move away from the many things that constrain our Centre with constraints and demands - both in thought and action.
Only in this way are we no longer a mythological or addicted crowd, overflowing with guilt, duties and affiliations - but rather a Family and informal colloquial dissonance.
No longer a mass, but (all-round) People: precisely in our being within limits do we rhyme with great Mission.
Let us begin, like Joseph, to be present to ourselves. And by changing our gaze, we will enjoy the Beauty of the New.
"St Joseph reminds us that all those who are apparently hidden or 'in the background' have an unparalleled role in the history of salvation. To all of them, we offer a word of recognition and gratitude" [Patris Corde intr.].
To internalise and live the message:
What were your turning points? What detour led to your fulfilment?
On what occasion did doubt open up astonishing horizons for you?
When and if you changed your conformist outlook, did you experience the awakening of perspectives, relationships and regenerating energies in your inner world?
How did you perceive, 'see' or 'dream' what was previously invisible and elsewhere?
Did you perhaps start from your own certainty?







