23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [7 September 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us! In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus develops the 'precautionary principle', which is also enshrined in Article 191 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU). This proves that the Word of God is divine wisdom which, as we understand in the first reading and in the responsorial psalm, illuminates every human choice and decision.  Wisdom that is always the secret of true happiness.

*First Reading from the Book of Wisdom (9:13-18)

Wisdom, in the biblical sense, is in some ways the art of living. Israel, like all neighbouring peoples, developed extensive reflection on this theme beginning with the reign of Solomon, and its contribution in this field is entirely original. It can be summarised in two points: first of all, according to the Bible, only God knows the secrets of happiness, and if man claims to discover them on his own, he follows false paths, as is clear from the lesson of the Garden of Eden. Secondly, God alone reveals the secret of happiness to his people and to all humanity: this is the message of this text, which is above all a lesson in humility. Isaiah had already stated that God's thoughts and ways are different from ours (cf. Is 55:8), and the book of Wisdom, written much later in a very different style, repeats: 'Who can discover the will of God? Who can imagine what the Lord wants?" (v. 13). We cannot have the slightest idea of what God thinks, and we know only what He has communicated through His prophets. Job had asked where to seek wisdom, because it does not exist on the earth of the living, and only God knows where it is (cf. Job 28:12-13, 23); shortly afterwards, God reminds Job of his limitations (chapters 38–41) and, at the end of the demonstration, Job bows down and admits that he spoke without understanding  the wonders that "are beyond me and that I did not know" (Job 42:3). In the Book of Wisdom, the discussion on human knowledge develops among the most intellectual minds that existed in Alexandria, when scientific and philosophical disciplines were highly developed and the Library of Alexandria was famous. The author reminds these scholars of the limits of human knowledge: 'The reasoning of mortals is timid, and our reflections are uncertain' (v. 14). And again: 'We can scarcely imagine the things of the earth, we discover with difficulty those within our reach; but who has investigated the things of heaven? (v. 16). The author does not mean that if we can discover the earth, we will be able to understand heavenly things, but he affirms that it is not only a question of the level of knowledge, as if man could discover the mysteries of God through reasoning and research, but it is a question of nature: we are only human, and there is an abyss between God and us, God being the Totally Other and his thoughts being beyond our reach. Herein lies the second lesson of the text: if we recognise our powerlessness, God himself reveals to us what we cannot discover on our own, giving us the gift of his Spirit (cf. 1:9). The other readings for this Sunday indicate the new behaviours inspired by the Spirit who dwells in us. One more observation: in verse 14, 'a corruptible body weighs down the soul, and the clay tent oppresses a mind full of worries', we see a conception of man that is unusual in the Bible, which usually insists on the unity of the human being, whereas here he is described as a being composed of an immaterial spirit and a material shell that contains it. The Book of Wisdom, written in a Greek context, uses this vocabulary so as not to scandalise its Greek readers, but it certainly does not want to describe a dualism of the human being: rather, it presents the inner struggle that takes place in each of us and which St Paul describes as follows: 'I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want' (Rom 7:19). Ultimately, this text makes an original contribution to a great dual biblical discovery: God is both Totally Other and Totally Near. God is Totally Other: 'Who can know the will of God? Who can imagine what the Lord wants?' (v. 13). At the same time, He makes Himself Totally Near by giving man wisdom and His Holy Spirit (v. 17). And so men were instructed in what is pleasing to God and were saved through wisdom (cf. v. 18).

*Responsorial Psalm (89/90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14, 17)

The first reading, taken from the book of Wisdom, is echoed in this psalm, which offers a magnificent definition of wisdom: 'Teach us to count our days, and we will gain a wise heart' (v. 12). These verses give an idea of the general atmosphere, and one expression sounds quite unusual: 'Return, Lord, how long? Have mercy on your servants' (v. 13). It is as if to say: 'We are unhappy at this moment, we are being punished for our sins; forgive us and take away the punishment', a typical formula of a penitential liturgy in the context of a penitential ceremony in the temple of Jerusalem. Why does Israel ask for forgiveness? The first verses suggest the answer: 'You turn man back to dust, when you say: Return, children of man' (v. 3).  The problem is that our condition as sinners is linked to Adam, and the entire psalm meditates on the account of Adam's sin in the book of Genesis. In the beginning, God and man stood face to face: God, the creator, and man, his creature made from dust. The second verse (absent here) of the psalm says precisely: 'Before the mountains were born and the earth and the world were created, from everlasting to everlasting, you are God'. Before Him, we are but a handful of dust in His hands. Yet man dared to challenge God and can only meditate on his true condition: "The years of our life are seventy, eighty for the strongest, and their bustling is toil and disappointment; they pass quickly and we fly away" (v. 10).  And we are truly small: "A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, like a watch in the night" (v. 4), as St Peter comments: "Do not ignore this one fact, beloved: with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day" (2 Pet 3:8). After this realisation comes the plea: “Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a wise heart. Return, Lord, how long? Have mercy on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning with your love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days” (vv. 12-14). True wisdom is to remain small before God, and the psalm compares human life to grass that “in the morning it flourishes and sprouts, in the evening it is mown and withers” (v. 6). How often, when faced with sudden death, do we say that we are nothing! It is not a matter of humbling ourselves, but of being realistic and remaining serene in God’s hands. 'Satisfy us in the morning with your love: we will exult and rejoice all our days' (v. 14): this is the experience of the believer, aware of his own smallness and trusting in the hands of God, to whom we can ask that 'you make known to your servants your work and your splendour to their children. May the goodness of the Lord our God be upon us" (vv. 16-17a). Even more daring is the last verse of the psalm, which repeats twice, "Make firm the work of our hands" (v. 17). Perhaps the psalmist was referring to the reconstruction of the temple in Jerusalem after the Babylonian exile, amid all kinds of opposition. More generally, however, it expresses the common work of God and man in the fulfilment of creation: man works in creation, but it is God who gives human work stability and effectiveness. 

*Second Reading from the letter of St Paul the Apostle to Philemon (9b-10.12-17)

On previous Sundays, we read passages from Paul's letter to the Colossians; today, however, Paul, while in prison, writes to Philemon, a Christian from Colossae (in Turkey), and it is a personal letter, full of diplomacy, on a very delicate subject. Philemon probably had several slaves, although history does not specify this, and one of them was called Onesimus. One fine day, Onesimus ran away, which was totally forbidden and severely punished by Roman law because slaves belonged to their masters as objects and were not free to dispose of themselves. During his escape, Onesimus met Paul, converted and entered the apostle's service. It was a complicated situation: if Paul kept Onesimus, he would be complicit in his abandonment of his post, and Philemon would not like that. If, on the other hand, Paul sent him back, the slave would be at serious risk, as Paul acknowledges later in the letter that Onesimus was indebted to his master. However, he decided to send Onesimus back with a request for forgiveness, in which he used all his powers of persuasion to convince Philemon: 'I, Paul, as I am, an old man and now also a prisoner for Christ Jesus, appeal to you for my child Onesimus' (vv. 9-10). He points out that he would like to keep him, but he knows that the final decision rests with Philemon (vv. 12-14), so he does not intend to force Philemon's hand. However, he knows exactly what he wants to achieve and reveals it gradually. First of all, he asks Philemon to forgive Onesimus for running away, and more than simple forgiveness, Paul suggests a true conversion: Onesimus is baptised and is now a brother to Philemon, a Christian and his former master: "For this reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave, but much more than a slave, as a beloved brother" (vv. 15-16). Paul goes even further: "If you consider me a friend, welcome him as you would welcome me" (v. 17).

*From the Gospel according to Luke (14:25-33)

The ending illuminates the whole discourse: emphasising totality (the renunciation of all his possessions, v. 33), Luke re-proposes his theology of poverty as radical discipleship of Christ. Let us begin with the phrase concerning family ties (v. 26): Jesus does not say to consider them as nothing, because that would be contrary to all his teaching on love and to the commandment "Honour your father and your mother". Rather, he means that these ties are good, but they must not become obstacles that prevent us from following Christ because the bond that unites us to Christ through Baptism is stronger than any other earthly bond. The difficulty of this Gospel lies elsewhere: at first glance, the connection between the different parts is not clear. Jesus says: "If anyone comes to me and does not love me (in Eastern Semitic language, 'to hate' also means 'to love less') more than his father, his mother... he cannot be my disciple" (v. 26), a phrase that we find echoed (included) in the last one: "Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple". Between these two statements there are two short parables: that of the man who wants to build a tower and that of the king who goes to war. Their lesson is similar: whoever wants to build a tower must first calculate the cost so as not to embark on a senseless undertaking; in the same way, the king who plans to go to war must first assess his forces. Wisdom consists in adapting one's ambitions to one's possibilities: a truth that applies in every area. How many projects fail because they are started too hastily without reflection, foresight and calculation of the risks? This is elementary wisdom, the secret of success. In fact, to govern is to foresee, and perhaps one becomes an adult on the day one finally learns to calculate the consequences of one's actions. But does this not seem to contradict the message of the phrases that open and close Jesus' discourse? These seem to speak a language that is anything but prudent and measured: first of all, to be a disciple of Christ, one must prefer him to anyone else and follow him with all one's heart, yet wisdom and even justice require respect for natural ties with family and environment. The second requirement is to carry one's cross decisively, accepting the risk of persecution, and the third condition is to renounce all one's possessions. In short, to leave behind all emotional and material security for Christ. But is all this prudent? Does it not seem far removed from the arithmetic calculations of the two short parables? Yet it is clear that Jesus does not enjoy cultivating paradoxes and does not contradict himself. It is therefore up to us to understand his message and how the two short parables shed light on the choices we must make in order to follow him. On closer inspection, Jesus always says the same thing: before embarking on an undertaking, whether it be following him, building a tower or going to war, he invites us to do our sums carefully and not to make mistakes. Those who build a tower calculate the cost; those who go to war assess the number of men and weapons; and those who follow Christ must also do their calculations, but of a different kind: they must renounce anything that might hinder them and thus place all their riches, both emotional and material, at the service of the Kingdom. Above all, they must rely on the power of the Spirit who 'continues his work in the world and brings every sanctification to completion', as the fourth Eucharistic prayer says. Here too, it is a calculated risk: in order to follow Jesus, he points out the risks to us — knowing how to leave everything behind, accepting misunderstanding and sometimes persecution, renouncing immediate gratification. To be Christians, the true calculation, the true wisdom, is not to rely on any of our earthly securities; it is as if he were saying to us: Accept that you have no securities: my grace is enough for you! Already the first reading, taken from the book of Wisdom, clearly stated this: the wisdom of God is not that of men; what appears to be folly in the eyes of men is the only true wisdom before God. With him, we are always in the logic of the grain of wheat: accept to die underground, but only in this way can it sprout and bear fruit. Blessed are those who know how to free themselves from false precautions in order to prepare themselves to pass through the narrow gate mentioned in the Gospel of the twenty-first Sunday (Lk 13:24). 

NOTE Jesus develops here the 'precautionary principle' which is also enshrined in Article 191 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU). In the two parables, it is clear that we must sit down to calculate risks and costs, taking preventive measures - even in the absence of complete scientific evidence. In the case of the disciple, the data for the calculation are completely different: Jesus wants us to evaluate well that our only wealth is in him and our only strength is his grace. And even the assessment of risks and objectives eludes us: as the Book of Wisdom says in the first reading: 'Who can know the will of God? Who can imagine what the Lord wants? The reasoning of mortals is timid and our reflections uncertain'.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

And worry about the number

(Lk 14:25-33)

Jesus is concerned to see around him «many crowds» (v.25).

Unusual that a proposal for total gift and risk of the whole life - goods, relationships, prestige, hopes - can find oceanic consensus.

In fact, there are not a few who don’t know «where» He goes. Not to take power and share it to friends - along with the loot.

The Lord is worried (v.25) and must start teaching again. Having so many admirers is a strange thing for Who proposes to involve themselves and not give in to indifference.

Even today, the Lord challenges, and urges us; He stings.

For those who make the choice of gratuitous love, first disposition is the integration of affections, even "family members". Not - to make us give up living.

Circles can detach us from the boundless demands of a relationship between people who share great ideals across borders.

Feelings and bonds must be relocated; they must acquire a new light.

Nobody is so much hero that he can no longer think of himself and his own, but a perspective dimension takes over, in the experience of a Father who provides for creating more wise turns.

All the logics of common sense take on another meaning.

Even attachment to one’s own image and reputation: «take, lift, carry the arm of the Cross» [v.27: sense of the Greek verb].

It was the moment of the maximum loneliness and perception of failure.

Those who are agitated by opinion-around limit themselves, do not begin paths, do not rely on their own skills or even discover them; they do not learn to take the step of what happens, nor subvert what must be detested.

The contrast with the strong powers that demand the usual double-edged loyalty, is simply to be taken into account from the outset.

Third "commitment" (v.33). Excess goods serve only to build “Relationship”. This is the threshold of Happiness: it makes one similar to God.

Absurd deal, but a source of unconditional joy, which brings us much more than emotion. So we must open our eyes well.

Because in mission you do not live on adrenaline, but on convictions that reflect the intimate life and the fullness of being.

Pay attention: the one who puts his face on it must first meet and measure himself very deeply, because he goes as in war (vv.31-32).

This is no joke here: the gendarmes of the established clans are capable of anything, to continue to give themselves importance and occupy positions.

You pay in person. You don’t participate in a triumphal procession: rather, you are rejected.

But Faith sustains: it believes that the Lord does not exert abuses, nor does he want around him resigned witnesses.

His Dream supplants common sense - to make us wince of an unexpected specific ‘pondus’ that we find free in our hearts.

From now on there is no more downwards haggling: this is the new Tower (vv.28-30) to be built.

[23rd Sunday in O.T.  (year C), September 7, 2025]

And worrying about numbers

(Lk 14:25-33)

In his commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (vii) Master Ho-shang Kung writes: "The saint is devoid of self-interest and does not care to give himself importance: therefore he can realise his interest".

Jesus is worried about seeing "many crowds" around him [v.25 Greek text]: having so many admirers is a strange thing for one who proposes to involve himself and not give in to indifference.

Unusual that a proposal of total gift and risk of one's entire life (goods, relationships, prestige, hopes) can find oceanic consent.

Truly unusual, perhaps grotesque, that so many people wish to gamble everything, even their health, for an ideal that generally does not 'sell' much.

Those who make genuine choices know well that sequela Christi is not to take part in a triumphal procession.

Indeed, there are not a few who do not know 'where' it goes....

Not to seize power and share it - alongside the spoils - with friends in his circle!

At best, they have misunderstood him, imagining that they are able to sacralise a quiet and smooth experience - with Him on the bedside table.

That is, picturesque and brilliant in society - intimate inside (with Him in the little heart). All hoods that soften the overhangs of principle.

Jesus notices those who follow Him for induced reasons, almost like enthusiastic festivals, or even venal, opportunistic ones, and only want to share the spoils of the new King of the Holy City. 

He understands why he has so many crowds around him. They have not grasped that God is beyond their reach.

Even in our days, the many crowds that attend the appointments of the 'Church of events' - Pope Francis would say - amaze.

For this reason, Christ sends and makes verifications, challenges and continues to incite the crumbling of any reflexive, quietist, external, self-interested or facilitation illusion - which, however, aggregates.

The first disposition of mind that presses and stings is the integration of affections, even 'family' affections. Not to make us give up living.

They can detach us from the boundless demands of a relationship between people who share great ideals across borders.

The hindrance of old feelings and ties must indeed be relocated, acquiring a new light.

The goal is authentic celebration. Not the useful and immediate; not even the pious mortifications or the abstract perfectionism of those who chase after frantic and contrived acts of strength.

No one is so heroic that he can no longer think of himself and his own, but a perspective dimension takes over; as well as the experience of the Father, who provides for wiser turns.

All the logic of common sense and balance is enhanced, yet takes on another meaning. In view of a Love in which every other good acquires full value.

Even the attachment to one's own image and reputation: "to take up, lift up and carry the arm of the Cross" [v.27 sense of the Greek verb].

It was a time of utmost loneliness and perception of failure, personal, religious, social.

He who is agitated by the opinion-around him limits himself, does not initiate paths, does not rely on his own talents, nor does he discover them; he does not learn to take the pace of what is happening, nor does he subvert what is to be detested.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (n.187, "The sacrifices of love") one could say that precisely "from there, the paths that open up are different from those of a soulless pragmatism".

It is not enough to accept the normal contrarieties.

Those who remain attached to the idol of quiet expectations, looks, cheering crowds and the (invigorating) opinion of others cannot be in the Christi sequel.

Lies, but precious ones at heart - inside out. Because this is not the enthusiasm we seek.

We experience it inside: the lust for prestige does not listen to authentic needs, does not reinvent the present.

Subjection to the fear of social scorn [this is the proposal of the Cross] does not build the breakthrough that belongs to us; it loses it.

Despite the hubbub of outward appearances, conformists and qualunquists do not discern the authentic Sacred in the judgement of the Gospels.

The Word of God does not declare certain faith "how much we need" or what we can "sell".

Traditional discipline and discernment - but also the great disembodied ideas of fashionable thinking - never want to make important what characterises the real woman and man.

According to current sophistication, they will first have to be content to be numbers, to follow custom, to adapt.

In this way, at first glance the critical witness might seem wrong or unequal: one would have to align oneself - are we not for an ecclesiology of communion?

But the very conviviality of differences, even within the same family, demands it.

What is valid is harmony that recovers the whole human being, including the opposite poles.

They complete us, and will have to come into play sooner or later; although they do not correspond to the fundamental trait of every character.

We see it: characters who, in order not to feel devalued and unappreciated, readjust to all seasons - but only to settle down.

They do not value their own energetic contradictions... with the sole purpose of living.

They think: when life seems to be stronger than us, we might as well get even - without ever attempting to objectify their own innermost, unprecedented, personal, disproportionate aspirations.

The appointment with the Unexpected does not settle for neat, contrived, or cerebral and schematic things, which dampen the potential for growth.

We are forced to put back into circulation forces, virtues, resources, even the sharpest, most eccentric and unpredictable ones - that we did not even think we had.

The contrast with the strong powers that demand the usual double-edged loyalty, and the aversion of the tenants of the papier-mâché castles, is simply to be reckoned with.

Power seeks useful idiots and servile office-bearers, not apostles who enjoy the varied expressions of life.

We belong to another planet: we are not interested in careers, management and consideration, but in the Calling by Name, which activates unknown capacities - those that multiply energies and set things in motion.

There is no better alternative path, to overcome even the global emergency, which grips life today and the world: it is asking us to regenerate, not to go back to the way it was.

Third "commitment" (v.33): excess goods are only for building Relationship. This is the threshold of Happiness: it makes one like God.

An absurd affair, but a source of unconditional joy, which brings us far more than emotion. So you have to open your eyes wide.

Because on a mission we do not live on adrenalin, but on convictions that reflect the intimate life and fullness of being - the heavenly condition.

We will no longer dream of changing smartphones, or the stripe or tear in our trousers, and still have fun: we will widen spaces, invent roads, plant a seed of an alternative society.

He who puts his face to it to make the world wise and transparent, even the ecclesiastical world, must however first meet and measure himself very very thoroughly, for he goes as if to war (vv.31-32).

This is also why one must learn to put a whole new mind into the game and not just combing parlor trinkets, as if caught up in the squalor of the chase - instead of the poignant and sacred goals.

There is no joking here: the gendarmes and the various established clans guarding their ancient or à la page are capable of all the worst there is, to continue to give themselves importance and occupy positions that matter, and yield.

One pays in person. One is rejected. But the Faith sustains: it believes that the Lord does not exercise abuse, nor does He want resigned followers around.

His Dream transcends common sense - to make us wince with an unexpected ‘pondus’ that we find free in our hearts.

In commentary on the Tao xxvi, Master Wang Pi writes: "To lose the foundation is to lose the person".

And Master Ho-shang Kung adds: "If the ruler is light and arrogant, he loses his ministers; if the ruler is light and licentious, he loses the essence.

Light-heartedness, externality and booty are puerile expectations.

Henceforth there is no more bargaining: this is the new Tower (vv.28-30) to be built.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

“Sine dominico non possumus!” Without the gift of the Lord, without the Lord’s day, we cannot live: That was the answer given in the year 304 by Christians from Abitene in present-day Tunisia, when they were caught celebrating the forbidden Sunday Eucharist and brought before the judge. They were asked why they were celebrating the Christian Sunday Eucharist, even though they knew it was a capital offence. “Sine dominico non possumus”: in the word dominicum/dominico two meanings are inextricably intertwined, and we must once more learn to recognize their unity. First of all there is the gift of the Lord – this gift is the Lord himself: the Risen one, whom the Christians simply need to have close and accessible to them, if they are to be themselves. Yet this accessibility is not merely something spiritual, inward and subjective: the encounter with the Lord is inscribed in time on a specific day. And so it is inscribed in our everyday, corporal and communal existence, in temporality. It gives a focus, an inner order to our time and thus to the whole of our lives. For these Christians, the Sunday Eucharist was not a commandment, but an inner necessity. Without him who sustains our lives, life itself is empty. To do without or to betray this focus would deprive life of its very foundation, would take away its inner dignity and beauty.

Does this attitude of the Christians of that time apply also to us who are Christians today? Yes, it does, we too need a relationship that sustains us, that gives direction and content to our lives. We too need access to the Risen one, who sustains us through and beyond death. We need this encounter which brings us together, which gives us space for freedom, which lets us see beyond the bustle of everyday life to God’s creative love, from which we come and towards which we are travelling.

Of course, if we listen to today’s Gospel, if we listen to what the Lord is saying to us, it frightens us: “Whoever of you does not renounce all that he has and all links with his family cannot be my disciple.” We would like to object: What are you saying, Lord? Isn’t the family just what the world needs? Doesn’t it need the love of father and mother, the love between parents and children, between husband and wife? Don’t we need love for life, the joy of life? And don’t we also need people who invest in the good things of this world and build up the earth we have received, so that everyone can share in its gifts? Isn’t the development of the earth and its goods another charge laid upon us? If we listen to the Lord more closely, and above all if we listen to him in the context of everything he is saying to us, then we understand that Jesus does not demand the same from everyone. Each person has a specific task, to each is assigned a particular way of discipleship. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is speaking directly of the specific vocation of the Twelve, a vocation not shared by the many who accompanied Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem. The Twelve must first of all overcome the scandal of the Cross, and then they must be prepared truly to leave everything behind; they must be prepared to assume the seemingly absurd task of travelling to the ends of the earth and, with their minimal education, proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a world filled with claims to erudition and with real or apparent education – and naturally also to the poor and the simple. They must themselves be prepared to suffer martyrdom in the course of their journey into the vast world, and thus to bear witness to the Gospel of the Crucified and Risen Lord. If Jesus’s words on this journey to Jerusalem, on which a great crowd accompanies him, are addressed in the first instance to the Twelve, his call naturally extends beyond the historical moment into all subsequent centuries. He calls people of all times to count exclusively on him, to leave everything else behind, so as to be totally available for him, and hence totally available for others: to create oases of selfless love in a world where so often only power and wealth seem to count for anything. Let us thank the Lord for giving us men and women in every century who have left all else behind for his sake, and have thus become radiant signs of his love. We need only think of people like Benedict and Scholastica, Francis and Clare of Assisi, Elizabeth of Hungary and Hedwig of Silesia, Ignatius of Loyola, Teresa of Avila, and in our own day, Mother Teresa and Padre Pio. With their whole lives, these people have become a living interpretation of Jesus’s teaching, which through their lives becomes close and intelligible to us. Let us ask the Lord to grant to people in our own day the courage to leave everything behind and so to be available to everyone.

Yet if we now turn once more to the Gospel, we realize that the Lord is not speaking merely of a few individuals and their specific task; the essence of what he says applies to everyone. The heart of the matter he expresses elsewhere in these words: “For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (Lk 9:24f.). Whoever wants to keep his life just for himself will lose it. Only by giving ourselves do we receive our life. In other words: only the one who loves discovers life. And love always demands going out of oneself, it always demands leaving oneself. Anyone who looks just to himself, who wants the other only for himself, will lose both himself and the other. Without this profound losing of oneself, there is no life. The restless craving for life, so widespread among people today, leads to the barrenness of a lost life. “Whoever loses his life for my sake … ”, says the Lord: a radical letting-go of our self is only possible if in the process we end up, not by falling into the void, but into the hands of Love eternal. Only the love of God, who loses himself for us and gives himself to us, makes it possible for us also to become free, to let go, and so truly to find life. This is the heart of what the Lord wants to say to us in the seemingly hard words of this Sunday’s Gospel. With his teaching he gives us the certainty that we can build on his love, the love of the incarnate God. Recognition of this is the wisdom of which today’s reading speaks to us. Once again, we find that all the world’s learning profits us nothing unless we learn to live, unless we discover what truly matters in life. 

“Sine dominico non possumus!” Without the Lord and without the day that belongs to him, life does not flourish. Sunday has been transformed in our Western societies into the week-end, into leisure time. Leisure time is something good and necessary, especially amid the mad rush of the modern world; each of us knows this. Yet if leisure time lacks an inner focus, an overall sense of direction, then ultimately it becomes wasted time that neither strengthens nor builds us up. Leisure time requires a focus – the encounter with him who is our origin and goal. My great predecessor in the see of Munich and Freising, Cardinal Faulhaber, once put it like this: Give the soul its Sunday, give Sunday its soul.

Because Sunday is ultimately about encountering the risen Christ in word and sacrament, its span extends through the whole of reality. The early Christians celebrated the first day of the week as the Lord’s day, because it was the day of the resurrection. Yet very soon, the Church also came to realize that the first day of the week is the day of the dawning of creation, the day on which God said: “Let there be light” (Gen 1:3). Therefore Sunday is also the Church’s weekly feast of creation – the feast of thanksgiving and joy over God’s creation. At a time when creation seems to be endangered in so many ways through human activity, we should consciously advert to this dimension of Sunday too. Then, for the early Church, the first day increasingly assimilated the traditional meaning of the seventh day, the Sabbath. We participate in God’s rest, which embraces all of humanity. Thus we sense on this day something of the freedom and equality of all God’s creatures.

In this Sunday’s Opening Prayer we call to mind firstly that through his Son God has redeemed us and made us his beloved children. Then we ask him to look down with loving-kindness upon all who believe in Christ and to give us true freedom and eternal life. We ask God to look down with loving-kindness. We ourselves need this look of loving-kindness not only on Sunday but beyond, reaching into our everyday lives. As we ask, we know that this loving gaze has already been granted to us. What is more, we know that God has adopted us as his children, he has truly welcomed us into communion with himself. To be someone’s child means, as the early Church knew, to be a free person, not a slave but a member of the family. And it means being an heir. If we belong to God, who is the power above all powers, then we are fearless and free. And then we are heirs. The inheritance he has bequeathed to us is himself, his love. Yes, Lord, may this inheritance enter deep within our souls so that we come to know the joy of being redeemed. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Vienna, 9 September 2007]

Christianity has its principal symbol in the cross. Wherever the Gospel has put down roots, the cross is there to indicate the presence of Christians. In churches and homes, in hospitals and schools, in cemeteries - the cross has become better than any other, the sign of a culture that draws from the message of Christ truth and liberty, trust and hope. 

In the process of secularization, that characterizes a great part of the contemporary world, it is all the more important for believers to fix their gaze on this central sign of Revelation and accept its original and genuine meaning. 

2. Even today, following the teaching of the early Fathers, the Church presents the Cross to the world as "the tree of life", from which one can receive the ultimate and full meaning of every single existence and of the whole of human history. 

From when Jesus made it the instrument of universal salvation, the Cross is no longer synonymous with a curse, but, on the contrary, with a blessing. For the human person, tormented by doubt and sin, it reveals that "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but have eternal life" (Jn 3,16). In a word, the cross is the supreme symbol of love. 

For this reason, young Christians carry it proudly through the streets of the world, entrusting to Christ all their worries and all their expectations of freedom, justice and peace.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 15 September 2002]

In today’s Gospel Jesus insists on the conditions for being his disciples: preferring nothing to the love of Christ, carrying one’s cross and following him. Many people in fact drew near to Jesus, they wanted to be included among his followers; and this would happen especially after some miraculous sign which accredited him as the Messiah, the King of Israel. However Jesus did not want to disappoint anyone. He knew well what awaited him in Jerusalem and which path the Father was asking him to take: it was the Way of the Cross, the way of sacrificing himself for the forgiveness of our sins. Following Jesus does not mean taking part in a triumphal procession! It means sharing his merciful love, entering his great work of mercy for each and every man and for all men. The work of Jesus is, precisely, a work of mercy, a work of forgiveness and of love! Jesus is so full of mercy! And this universal pardon, this mercy, passes through the Cross. Jesus, however, does not want to do this work alone: he wants to involve us too in the mission that the Father entrusted to him. After the Resurrection he was to say to his disciples: “As the Father has sent me, even so I send you”... if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven” (Jn 20:21-22). Jesus’ disciple renounces all his possessions because in Jesus he has found the greatest Good in which every other good receives its full value and meaning: family ties, other relationships, work, cultural and economic goods and so forth.... The Christian detaches him or herself from all things and rediscovers all things in the logic of the Gospel, the logic of love and of service.

To explain this requirement, Jesus uses two parables: that of the tower to be built and that of the king going to war. The latter says: “What king, going to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and take counsel whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends an embassy and asks terms of peace” (Lk 14:31-32). Jesus does not wish to address the topic of war here; it is only a parable. Yet at this moment in which we are praying intensely for peace, this word of the Lord touches us to the core, and essentially tells us: there is a more profound war that we must all fight! It is the firm and courageous decision to renounce evil and its enticements and to choose the good, ready to pay in person: this is following Christ, this is what taking up our cross means! This profound war against evil! What is the use of waging war, so many wars, if you aren't capable of waging this profound war against evil? It is pointless! It doesn’t work.... Among other things this war against evil entails saying “no” to the fratricidal hatred and falsehood that are used; saying “no” to violence in all its forms; saying “no” to the proliferation of weapons and to the illegal arms trade. There is so much of it! So much of it! And the doubt always remains: is this war or that war — because wars are everywhere — really a war to solve problems or is it a commercial war for selling weapons in illegal trade? These are the enemies to fight, united and consistent, following no other interests than those of peace and of the common good.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 8 September 2013]

A look into the «darkness».

As I have already mentioned, many poets and writers have described the flow of the human soul.

Eugenio Montale expresses this in one of his poems from 1925, on the pain of living, providing us with the image of a stream that cannot flow, a leaf crumpled by excessive heat, a horse exhausted on the ground.

These are images that linger in our minds, leaving us with food for thought and questions to ponder.

There have been moments of 'darkness' in our lives, and perhaps there will be more.

Feelings of discouragement and not knowing which path to take - each of us has experienced this first-hand.

The intensity and duration of the 'darkness' vary depending on the circumstances and our personal ability to react.

We react differently to defeat or disappointment; what upsets one person may leave another completely indifferent.

An encounter with 'darkness' can be common when faced with serious difficulties such as bereavement, loss of employment, the onset of illness, the end of a relationship, and so on.

This state of mind is temporary and ends spontaneously, without bringing about changes in a person's life.

In other cases, it is important not to underestimate this state of mind, as it could be a sign of psychosomatic or psychological distress.

In these cases, we often experience inexplicable feelings of worry and apathy, and we feel more fatigued.

Let us remember that the reaction to 'darkness' often follows a traumatic experience, which in ordinary circumstances would not have caused any temporary feelings of low mood.

A more severe and prolonged reaction, one that the individual cannot overcome on their own, is an unusual condition.

In older people, emotional shocks can trigger moments of 'darkness' more easily than in younger people.

Sometimes older people are marginalised, have fewer social relationships, and often suffer a loss of prestige, especially when they lose hope.

But even adolescents [with their precariousness] are not immune to these moments of unease.

It is not true that adolescence is a happy time of life; on the contrary, it is perhaps one of the most troubled.

In these moments of 'darkness', which clinicians call «depression», we notice that people going through this phase greatly reduce their activities, have less self-confidence, and take an interest in few things.

They are able to keep their jobs even if they have to work harder. Usually, their memory and relationship with reality are not altered - unless a serious condition («psychosis») has arisen.

Arieti describes the depression we have called 'darkness' here as a combination of sadness and pessimism.

The latter is the essential element of the combination; the unhealthy idea is to believe that what has happened to a person will always happen to them, or that their state of mind will never change.

Defeatism, the illusion of knowing what will happen to us in the future, consolidates sadness into 'darkness'.

Often the 'darkness' of the soul is discharged onto the body.

We may experience weight loss, feelings of oppression in the heart, decreased bodily secretions, insomnia, and frequent headaches.

In our behaviour towards others, 'darkness' makes us tend to exploit and influence others; it makes us  unwilling to be persuaded. We find it difficult to satisfy others, and hostility often overwhelms us.

Faber Andrew wrote a poem entitled “To those who are going through their darkness”...

The poet invites the reader to «believe in poetry. In the eyes of those who have already found that road».

Then again: «There is a sky here waiting for you, with a breathtaking panorama of dreams».

For a poet, poetry is the main road, but we who are not poets have something to believe in, and that is the pillar of our reality.

Let us always remember that when the night reaches its darkest point, the dawn of a new day begins.

Francesco Giovannozzi, psychologist and psychotherapist.

Incarnation, or emptiness of humanity

(Lk 6:1-5)

On the conversion’s journey, conflicts of conscience are not parentheses or accidents of the path, but crucial knots.

The genuineness of believing then generates implicative strenght and new expressive abilities.

According to ordinary religious assessments, the legislation was worth more than hunger... but God’s experience in the life overturns ideas elaborated by experts.

To be honest, observance of the Sabbath had become a central law not because of theological subtleties, very well because in the period of the Exile the weekly rest had allowed believers to gather, share hopes, encourage each other, maintain the identity of the people.

But legalism ended up stifling the spirit of the day of worship, once a sign of a freedom in the service of people’s faith and happiness.

Thus where Jesus arrives, every spiritual module empty of humanity crumbles, and the Incarnation takes hold: the place where God and man  seriously rest [other than the saturday!].

In the parallel passage of Mt (12:1-8), Jesus' response is more articulated and complete:

On Jewish Sabbath, priests had many more sacred and preparation engagements, slaughter and reordering of the Sanctuary, than the other days of the week, and the Torah obliged them... it happens to us too.

Again in Mt, the Lord quotes a famous phrase from the prophet Hosea - a man of raw experience, but who well defines the peak of intimacy with God: an authentic rite is to realize the hopes of our neighbour and to have the heart in the needs of others.

Christ emphasizes the poverty of every legalistic and hypocritical attachment in the mode of conceiving relations with the Father.

The sign of the Covenant with God, and Encounter [authentic sanctification] is adherence that continues in the plot of the days and in his active Person - not a ridiculous idolatry of observances or cultic parentheses.

Facts and rites celebrate love; and the sincere fulfilment does not follow the pedantic "as we should be", but expresses a Liberation of the person.

The biblical episode that Jesus quotes could perhaps appear not entirely pertinent to the theoretical question: his disciples did not seem to be kings or even priests.

Instead, in the new time that’s urgent, yes: ‘sovereigns’ of one’s life by Gift and Call, as well as ‘mediators’ [of divine blessings on humanity] - and also Prophets.

The lovable God establishes with us a dialogue and a friendship that invites, gives impetus, transmits taste for doing.

It’s the result of a messianic conscience as «Son of man» (v.5): transmissible to us, his brethren and friends - very united to him by Faith.

For this reason [after the call of the disciples and the first healings, then the vocation of Levi and the controversy about fasting] the Lord presents himself to the Pharisees in the royal stunt double of David, who is about to conquer the "kingdom" even with a small handful of followers.

In the time of the global crisis that affects the future, and still tries to calculate it by directing it a priori, according to selective interests, the challenge is more open than ever.

To internalize and live the message:

How did you perceive that you were reliving Christ in the fluency of the norms?

[Saturday 22th wk. in O.T.  September 6, 2025]

Incarnation, or the spiritual form empty of humanity

(Lk 6:1-5)

On the path to conversion, conflicts of conscience are not parentheses or accidents of the way, but crucial nodes.

The genuineness of belief then generates implicative force and new expressive capacities.

The alternative is between Intimacy and the practice of Faith, or religion that condemns blameless people (Mt 12:7):

According to ordinary religious assessments, regulation was worth more than hunger....

Yes, there is much to dialogue, simply, but little to discuss: God's experience in life overturns the ideas developed by experts.

To be fair, Sabbath observance had become a central law, not because of theological niceties, but because in the period of the Exile, weekly rest had made it possible to come together, to share hopes, to encourage one another, to maintain identity as a people.

But legalism ended up stifling the spirit of the day of worship, once a sign of a freedom at the service of faith and man, both of which could not be enslaved.

So where Jesus arrives, every spiritual module empty of humanity crumbles, and the Incarnation takes hold: the place where God and man rest in earnest (other than the Sabbath!).

The litmus test of the bursting of the new kingdom is the igniting of contrasts with leaders, managers, court intellectuals and executives!

They built their prestige on a patchwork of false teachings, which had nothing to do with the objective of the divine Law.

[Dog doesn't eat dog, so the brawlers of the provisions had never commented on David's transgressive behaviour.

It happens that the masters of steam and the unsavoury fundamentalists of the old or the 'new' do not go against each other...].

In the parallel passage of Mt (12:1-8) Jesus' response is more articulate and complete:

On the Sabbath day, the priests had many more sacred and preparatory duties, slaughtering and tidying up the Sanctuary, than on the other days of the week, and the Torah obliged them... it happens to us too.

Again in Mt, the Lord quotes a famous phrase from the prophet Hosea - a man of raw experience, but one that well defines the pinnacle of intimacy with God: Authentic rite is to notice the needs of one's neighbour and to have one's heart in the needs of others.

The archaic 'sacrifice' [sacrum facere, to make sacred] reflected an idea of cut-off, separation and distance between the perfect world of 'heaven' and the profane life of people.

But after the coming of the "Son of Man" (v.5), the new consecrated will not live secluded, above the lines, far from summary existence.

Rather, they will be the first to welcome and lift up those in need.

Christ emphasises the poverty of any legalistic and hypocritical attachment in the way of conceiving relations with the Father.

A sign of the Covenant with God, and an encounter (authentic sanctification) is the adherence that continues in the pattern of days and in His active Person - not a ridiculous idolatry of observances or cultic parentheses.

Facts and rituals celebrate love; and straightforward adherence does not trace the pedantic 'how we should be', but expresses a Liberation of the person.

The biblical episode that Jesus cites might perhaps have seemed not entirely relevant to the theoretical question: his disciples did not seem to be kings or even priests.

Instead, in the new time that is impending, yes: 'sovereigns' of their own lives by Gift and Calling, as well as 'mediators' [of divine blessings on humanity] - and prophets too.

Authentic ones will no longer play the double game of the old theatrics, susceptible practitioners of the sacred - nor will they condemn the innocent and needy (Mt 12:7).

In Mk 2:27 Jesus relativises the commandment: 'The Sabbath was [instituted, has its meaning] for man, and not man for the Sabbath'.

The lovable God establishes a dialogue and friendship with us that invites, gives impetus, gives gusto.

The Tao Tê Ching (xiii) writes:

"To him who makes merit of himself for the sake of the world, the world can be entrusted. To him who cares for himself for the sake of the world, one can trust the world'.

To the bondage of customs, Christ opposes a looseness that makes the encounter between God and his people more agile, more spontaneous, richer and more personal.

It is the outcome of a messianic consciousness that is precisely that of a "Son of Man" (v.5): greater than the Temple (cf. Mt 12:6) because incarnate.

In this way, transmissible to us, His brothers and friends - united to Him and intimate by faith.

After the call of Levi, the meal with sinners and the controversy over fasting, the Master presents Himself to the Pharisees in the regal guise of David setting out to conquer the alternative "Kingdom", even with a small handful of followers.

A trail of light - even for us - in the face of the current pastoral meltdown.

In the time of the global crisis that seems to mortgage the future (we still try to calculate it by directing it a priori, according to selective interests), the challenge is more open than ever.The contrast on Justice

"It is precisely because of this personal experience of his relationship with Jesus Christ that Paul now places at the heart of his Gospel an irreducible opposition between two alternative paths to justice: one built on the works of the Law, the other founded on the grace of faith in Christ. The alternative between righteousness by the works of the Law and righteousness by faith in Christ thus becomes one of the dominant motifs running through his Epistles: "We, who by birth are Jews and not sinful pagans, yet knowing that man is not justified by the works of the Law, but only by faith in Jesus Christ, have also believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the Law; for by the works of the Law no one will ever be justified" (Gal 2:15-16). And to the Christians of Rome he reiterates that 'all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, but are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus (Rom 3:23-24). He adds, "For we hold that man is justified by faith, regardless of the works of the Law" (Ibid 28). Luther at this point translated: 'justified by faith alone'. I will return to this point at the end of the catechesis. First we must clarify what this "Law" is from which we are liberated and what those "works of the Law" are that do not justify. Already in the community of Corinth there was an opinion that would later return systematically in history; the opinion was that it was the moral law and that Christian freedom therefore consisted in liberation from ethics. Thus the word 'πάντα μοι έξεστιν' (everything is permissible for me) circulated in Corinth. It is obvious that this interpretation is wrong: Christian freedom is not libertinism, the liberation of which St Paul speaks is not liberation from doing good.

But what then is the Law from which we are liberated and which does not save? For St Paul, as for all his contemporaries, the word Law meant the Torah in its entirety, that is, the five books of Moses. The Torah implied, in the Pharisaic interpretation, the one studied and made his own by Paul, a complex of behaviours ranging from the ethical core to the ritual and cultic observances that substantially determined the identity of the righteous man. Particularly circumcision, observances about pure food and generally ritual purity, rules about Sabbath observance, etc. Behaviours that also frequently appear in the debates between Jesus and his contemporaries. All these observances expressing a social, cultural and religious identity had become singularly important by the time of the Hellenistic culture, beginning in the 3rd century BC. This culture, which had become the universal culture of the time, and was an apparently rational, polytheistic, apparently tolerant culture, constituted a strong pressure towards cultural uniformity and thus threatened the identity of Israel, which was politically forced into this common identity of the Hellenistic culture, resulting in the loss of its own identity, and thus also the loss of the precious inheritance of the faith of the Fathers, of faith in the one God and the promises of God.

Against this cultural pressure, which threatened not only Israelite identity, but also faith in the one God and His promises, it was necessary to create a wall of distinction, a shield of defence to protect the precious inheritance of faith; this wall consisted precisely of Jewish observances and prescriptions. Paul, who had learnt of these observances precisely in their defensive function of God's gift, of the inheritance of faith in one God, saw this identity threatened by the freedom of Christians: he persecuted them for this reason. At the moment of his encounter with the Risen One he realised that with Christ's resurrection the situation had changed radically. With Christ, the God of Israel, the one true God, became the God of all peoples. The wall - so he says in the Letter to the Ephesians - between Israel and the pagans was no longer necessary: it is Christ who protects us against polytheism and all its deviations; it is Christ who unites us with and in the one God; it is Christ who guarantees our true identity in the diversity of cultures. The wall is no longer necessary; our common identity in the diversity of cultures is Christ, and it is he who makes us righteous. To be just is simply to be with Christ and in Christ. And that is enough. Other observances are no longer necessary. That is why Luther's expression 'sola fide' is true, if faith is not opposed to charity, to love. Faith is to look to Christ, to entrust oneself to Christ, to attach oneself to Christ, to conform oneself to Christ, to his life. And the form, the life of Christ is love; therefore to believe is to conform oneself to Christ and to enter into his love. That is why St Paul in the Epistle to the Galatians, in which he especially developed his doctrine on justification, speaks of faith working through charity (cf. Gal 5:14).

Paul knows that in the twofold love of God and neighbour the whole Law is present and fulfilled. Thus in communion with Christ, in the faith that creates charity, the whole Law is fulfilled. We become righteous by entering into communion with Christ who is love".

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 19 November 2008].

To internalise and live the message:

Have you felt oppression or exclusion in the name of the Law?

Do you feel it was for offending God or for daring to disturb something or question someone and their cultural paradigm?

How did you perceive you were reliving Christ in the looseness of norms?

What conflicts are a source of discussion and ecclesial controversy that you feel create detachment and suffering around you?