XXVIII Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [12 October 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us! Reflecting on the gratitude that is easier to see in those who are far away is an invitation to review our personal relationship with God.

First Reading from the Second Book of Kings (5:14-17)

This Sunday's reading begins at the moment when General Naaman, apparently as docile as a lamb, immerses himself in the waters of the Jordan, on the orders of the prophet Elisha; but we are missing the beginning of the story: let me tell it to you. Naaman is a Syrian general highly esteemed by the king of Aram (present-day Damascus). Obviously, for the people of Israel, he is a foreigner and at times even an enemy, and above all, being a pagan, he does not belong to the chosen people. Even more serious: he is a leper, which means that soon everyone will avoid him, and for him it is a real curse. Fortunately for him, his wife has an Israelite slave girl who tells her mistress, 'There is a great prophet in Samaria who could surely heal Naaman'. The mistress tells her husband Naaman, who tells the king of Aram: the prophet of Samaria can heal me. And since Naaman is in great favour, the king writes a letter of introduction to the king of Samaria recommending Naaman, who is afflicted with leprosy, to go to the prophet Elisha. The king of Israel does not know that the prophet Elisha can heal him; on the contrary, he is in a panic because he thinks that the king of Syria is looking for a pretext to wage war on him. Elisha hears about this and asks Naaman to come. Naaman arrives with his entire entourage and luggage full of gifts for the healer. In reality, only a servant opens the door slightly and simply tells him that his master orders him to immerse himself seven times in the Jordan to be purified.  Naaman finds this offensive and wonders what is the point of immersing himself in the Jordan when there are rivers in Syria that are much more beautiful than the Jordan. Enraged, he sets off again for Damascus, but fortunately his servants say to him: 'Did you expect the prophet to ask you to do extraordinary things to heal you, and you would have done them? Now he is asking you to do something ordinary, so why can't you do it? Naaman allows himself to be persuaded, and this is where today's reading begins. Naaman obeys a simple order by immersing himself seven times in the Jordan and is healed. It seems simple to us, but for a great general of a foreign army, this obedience is not simple at all! The rest of the text demonstrates this. Naaman is healed and returns to Elisha to tell him two things. The first: 'Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel', and he adds that when he returns to his country, he will offer sacrifices to him. The author of this passage takes the opportunity to say to the Jews: you have had the protection of the one God for centuries, and now you see that God is also for foreigners, while you continue to be tempted by idolatry. This foreigner, on the other hand, quickly understood where his healing came from. Naaman also tells Elisha that he wants to give him a gift to thank him, but the prophet refuses emphatically: God's gifts cannot be bought. Finally, why does Naaman want to take some soil from Israel with him? He explains that he does not want to offer burnt offerings and sacrifices to other gods, but only to the God of Israel. This shows that, at the time of the prophet Elisha, all the peoples neighbouring Israel believed that the gods reigned over specific territories and, in order to offer sacrifices to the God of Israel, Naaman believed he had to take with him some soil from the land over which this God reigned.

Responsorial Psalm (97/98, 1-4)

In the first reading, Naaman, a Syrian general and therefore a pagan, is healed by the prophet Elisha and, thanks to this, discovers the God of Israel. Naaman is therefore perfectly suited to sing this psalm, which speaks of God's love both for the pagans, whom the Bible calls the nations (or peoples), and for Israel. 'The Lord has made known his salvation, he has revealed his justice in the sight of the nations' (v. 2) and immediately afterwards (v. 3): 'He has remembered his love, his faithfulness to the house of Israel', which is the consecrated expression to remember the election of Israel, the completely privileged relationship that binds this small people to the God of the universe. The simple words "his faithfulness" and "his love" are a reference to the Covenant: it is through these words that, in the desert, God made himself known to the people he chose. The phrase "God of love and faithfulness" indicates that Israel is the chosen people, but the previous phrase reminds us that if Israel has been chosen, it is not to enjoy the privilege selfishly, not to consider itself the only child, but to behave as an older brother, and its role is to proclaim God's love for all people, so as to gradually integrate all humanity into the Covenant. In this psalm, this certainty even marks the composition of the text; if you look more closely, you will notice the inclusion of verses 2 and 3. I would remind you that inclusion is a literary device often found in the Bible. It is a bit like a box in a newspaper or magazine; obviously, the purpose is to highlight the text written inside the box. In the Bible, it works the same way: the central text is highlighted, framed by two identical phrases, one before and one after. Here, the central phrase speaks of Israel, the chosen people, and is framed by two phrases that speak of the nations: the first phrase, 'The Lord has made known his salvation, he has revealed his righteousness in the sight of the nations', and the second concerns Israel: "He has remembered his love, his faithfulness to the house of Israel" and the third: "All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God". Here the term "the nations" does not appear but is replaced by the expression "all the ends of the earth". This means that the election of Israel is central, but we must not forget that it must radiate to all humanity. A second emphasis of this psalm is the very marked proclamation of God's kingship. For example, in the Temple of Jerusalem they sing: "Acclaim the Lord, all the earth, acclaim your king." This psalm is a cry of victory, the cry that rises on the battlefield after triumph, the teru'ah in honour of the victor. The victory of God, referred to here, is twofold: first, it is the victory of liberation from Egypt, and second, it is the victory expected at the end of time, God's definitive victory over all the forces of evil. Even then, God was acclaimed as the new king was once acclaimed on the day of his coronation, with cries of victory to the sound of trumpets, horns and the applause of the crowd. But while with the kings of the earth there was always disappointment, this time we know that we will not be disappointed; that is why this time the teru'ah must be particularly vibrant! Christians acclaim God with even greater force, because they have seen the king of the world with their own eyes: since the Incarnation of the Son, they know and affirm, against all apparent evidence to the contrary, that the Kingdom of God, that is, of love, has already begun.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to Timothy (2:8-13)

The hymn "Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead; he is our salvation, our eternal glory" is found in its original context in the Second Letter to Timothy, where Paul writes: "Remember Jesus Christ, descendant of David". In the Jewish milieu, it was essential to affirm that Jesus was truly of the lineage of David in order to be recognised as the Messiah. Paul adds: 'He was raised from the dead: this is my Gospel'. The question is radical: either Jesus rose from the dead, or he did not. Paul, initially convinced that it was an invention, had tried to prevent the spread of this proclamation. But after his experience on the road to Damascus, he saw the Risen One and became his witness. Jesus is the conqueror of death and evil, and with him a new world is born, in which believers must participate with their whole lives. For this reason, Paul consecrates himself to proclaiming the Gospel and invites Timothy to do the same, preparing him for opposition and encouraging him to fight the good fight with courage, gentleness and trust in the Spirit he has received. The resurrection is the heart of the Christian faith. While for many Jews the resurrection of the flesh was credible, for the Greeks it was difficult to accept, as shown by the failure of Paul's preaching in Athens. Precisely because of his proclamation of the resurrection, Paul was imprisoned several times: "Christ has been raised from the dead; this is my Gospel. For his sake I suffer, even to the point of being chained like a criminal." Timothy, too, Paul warns, will have to suffer for the Gospel. Paul's chains do not stop the truth: 'I am in chains, but the Word of God is not in chains'. Jesus himself had said that if they remain silent, the stones will cry out, because nothing can stop the truth. Paul adds that he endures everything for the elect, so that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory. Here the opening hymn echoes and probably follows an ancient baptismal hymn introduced with the formula: "Here is a word worthy of faith: If we died with him, we will live with him; if we persevere, we will reign with him." It is the mystery of Baptism, already explained in Romans 6: with it we are immersed in the death and resurrection of Christ, united with him in an inseparable way. Passion, death and resurrection constitute a single event that inaugurated a new era for humanity. The last sentences highlight the tension between human freedom and God's faithfulness because if we deny him, he too will deny us: God respects our conscious rejection. If we lack faith, he remains faithful, because he cannot deny himself, since God always remains faithful even in the face of our frailty.

From the Gospel according to Luke (17:11-19)

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, where his passion, death and resurrection await him. Luke emphasises the itinerary because what he narrates is linked to the mystery of salvation. During the journey, he meets ten lepers who, forced to remain at a distance according to the Law, cry out to him, calling him 'Master': this is a sign both of their weakness and of the trust they place in him. Unlike another episode (Lk 5:12), this time Jesus does not touch them, but only orders them to go and present themselves to the priests, a necessary step for official recognition of their healing. The order is already a promise of salvation. The story recalls the episode of Naaman and the prophet Elisha (2 Kings 5) in the first reading because as the ten set out on their journey, their leprosy disappears: their trust saves them. The disease had united them, but the healing reveals the difference in their hearts: nine Jews go to the priests, only one, a Samaritan, considered a heretic, returns. He recognises that life and healing come from God, glorifies God aloud, prostrates himself at Jesus' feet and gives him thanks: an attitude reserved for God. Thus he recognises the Messiah and understands that the true place to give glory to God is no longer the Temple in Jerusalem, but Jesus himself. His return is conversion, and Jesus proclaims it: "Get up and go; your faith has saved you." Jesus asks the other nine to account for themselves: they met the Messiah but did not recognise him, choosing to run immediately to the Temple to fulfil the Law without stopping to give thanks. The Gospel thus emphasises a recurring theme: salvation is for everyone, but often it is not those closest to God who welcome it: "He came among his own, and his own did not recognise him." Already the Old Testament affirmed the universality of salvation (cf. Ps 97/98). The first reading recalls the conversion of Naaman, a foreigner, and Jesus had rebuked Nazareth, citing the example of the Syrian who was healed while many lepers in Israel were not (Lk 4:27), arousing the anger of the synagogue. In Acts, Luke will again show the contrast between the rejection of part of Israel and the acceptance of the pagans. This question was alive in the early Christian communities: did one have to be Jewish to receive baptism, or could pagans also be accepted? The story of the converted Samaritan recalls three truths: the salvation brought by Christ through his passion, death and resurrection is for everyone; thanksgiving is often best performed by foreigners or heretics; the poor are the most open to encountering God. In conclusion, on the road to Jerusalem, that is, to salvation, Jesus leads all men who are willing to convert, whatever their origin or religion.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Foreign glory, or religiosity giving birth to models and slaves

(LK 17:11-19)

According to the encyclical Brothers All, the custody of differences is the criterion of true fraternity, which does not annihilate the extrovert peaks.

In fact, even in a relationship of deep love and coexistence «we need to free ourselves from feeling that we all have to be alike» [Amoris Laetitia, n.139].

It will be surprising, but the meaning of the Gospel does not concern the thanks to do!

Jesus is not saddened by a lack of gratitude and good manners, but by the fact that only a stranger gives «glory to God» (v.15).

That is: he recognizes Him as his personal Lord - in a relationship, in fact, without mediation.

That personal «make-Eucharist» [...] «and fell on his face at his feet» (v.16 Greek text) has a strong, spousal meaning, of perfect reciprocity in the Way.

All within the horizon of a crucial - decisive - choice between exclusive quality life, or death.

Although marginalized by the "sacred precincts" of the Temple in the Holy City - the distant and rejected (considered bastards and enemies) immediately understand what does not disfigure the face of their humanity.

On closer inspection, in the third Gospel the models of the Faith are all "foreign": centurion, prostitute, hemorrhoid, blind; and so on.

They immediately perceive the signs of Life, signs of God!

Others more settled or attracted by normalities are content to be reintegrated into ancient and common religious practice, returning to the usual impersonal things, and to mass worship.

But those who allow themselves to be enslaved, lose track of themselves and of Christ (v.17). They become again a slave of the aligned, conventionalist mentality, not examined - and subject to ‘permanence’.

Instead, if recognized [as in the case of the Samaritan] a Presence in our favor makes us find, discover, and understand.

It proceeds unparalleled through all our moods - without remorse for duties that do not belong to us.

This Friendship makes us recover the fixed points of truly intimate human codes, strengthening - out of the line - both the system of self-recognition and the authentic and unrepeatable way of honoring God in our brothers and sisters.

In short, as we walk our very own Way with optimism and hope, we come to meet the living Christ; not to the hubbub of the [ancient or fashionable] Temple.

It no longer sends precious messages; it only notes down. It beats in the head, but does not touch us inside.

It will trap each one in a web of predictable thoughts, of enemy surveillance, induced customs; so on.

Regarding the essential divine readiness to grasp differences as wealth, we recall the teaching of the Sufi master Ibn Ata Allah, who upheld the unparalleled immediacy of the personal Colloquium - where wisdom of analysis and experience of mystical vertigo unite:

«He makes the enlightenment come upon you so that through it you may come to Him; He makes it come upon you to remove you from the hand of others; He makes it come upon you to free you from the slavery of creatures; He makes it come on you to bring you out of the prison of your existence towards the Heaven of the contemplation of Him».

New, full, and definitive Life.

People of Faith detach themselves from external religious identity: they dream, love and invent roads; they deviate and do not follow an already traced path.

[28th Sunday in O.T. (year C), October 12, 2025]

Foreign glory (or religious culture that produces models and slaves)

(Lk 17:11-19)

The impure had to stay out of the way: anything that differed from the dominant thinking was undermined.

According to the ancient religious scheme, the places of the 'infected' were considered equivalent to cemeteries.

Diseases were imagined as punishments for transgressions.

But leprosy - a disease that corrodes from within - was the very symbol of sin [yet here it seems that it is the observant who are the walking image of death].

Any recovery was considered a miraculous resurrection.

And before being readmitted into society, all (supposed) sins had to be atoned for.

Jesus replaces the nerve-wracking complexity of these arcane and superstitious procedures with a very simple path to recovery.

In this way, he destroys archaic, superstitious idolatrous devotion, replacing it with a proposal for real life.

This passage is exclusive to Luke, but in all the Gospels the term 'village' has strongly negative connotations.

'Villages' are places where the Lord is not welcomed. There is no room for the new there, and if it takes root, it becomes an obligatory tradition.

They are territories and swamps of reduction, of stubborn confirmation, of wanting to reproduce consolidated thoughts and impose more or less seraphic customs on anyone. We know them.

In the Church, the 'village' mentality is one of certainty at all costs.

It is the typical conviction of those who consider themselves sacramentally correct and entitled to marginalise, chase away, reject, keep away, and disregard.

The passage can be read on several levels.

The Master walks with the Apostles and addresses them (Lk 17:1-11), but suddenly he seems to find himself alone (v. 12). It is as if the 'lepers of the village' were none other than his own [at that time, no one affected by the disease could live in residential areas].

The impurity contracted by the disciples and also by us today depends precisely on the damaged condition, decay and corruption of the reduced and infected environment.

The latter makes regeneration impossible - because in it the followers themselves (who seem close) sometimes close themselves off, all grouped together.

The ten lepers represent us.

The number itself indicates a totality (like fingers).

But right here, if we are at least made aware of the separation from the realisation of our face, here is the first step towards personal involvement with the Lord.

We all have signs of non-life.

Those who consider themselves to have arrived and to be free from pathologies put up fences to protect themselves and their world, but remain there, awkward.

When, on the other hand, they realise that development has not yet flourished, a sense of tolerance towards others is triggered, and the personal spring that overcomes empty, intimate, or coerced adherence.

Even in the first assemblies of those called to be children and brothers, a self-satisfied and isolationist mentality sometimes manifested itself towards the pagans who presented themselves at the threshold of the community.

The newcomers - scrutinised by the veterans who could not tolerate differences - cried out, appealing directly to Christ himself.

The question arose - still relevant today:

'You who are at the head [v. 13 Greek text], you who command the church, what do you think of your own? What do you say about this village mentality?

"Do the first ones who believe they have the right to shun others really have the right to do so?"

"Has the Father you proclaimed become exactly like the grim God of religions?"

In fact, the 'lepers' are not asking for healing, but for compassion.

In short, the Call is 'internal'.

This means that it is precisely the phenomena of the acquired role or ministry - perhaps colonialist - that should be healed.

Conditioned by false guides, we too often approach Christ in an abstruse, wrong way: asking him for 'mercy'.

One does not ask a Friend or a Father for 'mercy'.

This is why Jesus is clear. Those who consider themselves unclean or want to be pitied must go elsewhere, to the official religion.

Everyone is complete, and this can be seen in the choice of the stranger who alone understands and returns to Christ.

No one needs to punish themselves by submitting to conformist protocols.

But then it was the priests of the Temple who verified and decided whether the already healed (!) could be readmitted into society.

In short, all of us sinners are made pure not by miracles that come down like lightning, but in the Exodus.

A journey that moves us away from a putrid and diseased environment - well before anyone checks, makes trivial recommendations, and dictates the rhythm of petty practices.

It is only the 'village' that makes us - and considers us - impure... because we do not resemble it!

All we need to do is break free from ghettoising thoughts and customs to gain serenity and motivation: we will no longer feel rejected and singled out.

We will discover ourselves and God with us.

He made us this way for a special Mission; not modelled on prototypes to be copied as if we were idiots: but as supremely lovable children.

The Father sees us as perfect, and in his own time he will bring forth amazing pearls from our supposed or intruding unworthiness.

Inadequacies in the 'village', which make up and complete the baggage of our precious personality and unique Vocation.

Coincidentally, we only realise ourselves spiritually by crossing local 'cultural' barriers.

Even by disobeying orders, but transgressing them (vv. 14ff.)!

In this way, Jesus does not contemplate inquisitors.

We must allow ourselves to be controlled solely by the Spirit, who already animates us.

This is a decisive issue. In fact, the meaning of the text does not concern the thanks that must be given!

Jesus is not saddened because he sees a lack of gratitude and good manners, but because only a foreigner gives 'glory to God' (v. 15).

That is, he recognises him as his personal Lord - in a relationship, precisely, without mediation.

That personal 'Eucharistic act' [...] 'and fell on his face at his feet' (v. 16 Greek text) has a strong, spousal meaning of perfect reciprocity on the Way.

All within the horizon of a crucial choice - not peaceful, nor calm and do-gooder, but decisive - between a life of exclusive quality or death.

Although marginalised from the 'sacred enclosures' of the Temple in the Holy City, it is precisely those who are distant and rejected (considered bastards and enemies) who immediately understand what does not disfigure the face of their humanity.

Here Luke quotes the term alloghenès (v. 18) carved in large letters on the tablets affixed to the first of the internal parapets of the Sanctuary of Jerusalem [the one that, under penalty of death, prevented pagans from participating in Jewish cultic sacrifice].

But on closer inspection, in the third Gospel, the models of Faith are all 'strangers': the centurion, the prostitute, the haemorrhaging woman, the blind man, and so on.

They immediately perceive the signs of Life, the signs of God!

Others who are more settled or attracted to normality are content to be reintegrated into the old and common religious practice, returning to the usual impersonal things and mass worship.

Yet those who readjust to the ways of the world become enslaved; they lose track of themselves and of Christ (v. 17).

They become slaves once again to a conformist, conventionalist mentality that is unquestioned and dominated by 'permanence'.

According to the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, the preservation of differences is the criterion of true fraternity, which does not destroy extroverted peaks.

In fact, even in a relationship of deep love and coexistence, 'there is a need to free oneself from the obligation to be the same' [Amoris Laetitia, n.139].

Pope Francis again:

'While solidarity is the principle of social planning that allows unequal people to become equal, fraternity is what allows equal people to be different' [Message to the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences, 24/04/2017].

In short, by walking our own personal path with optimism and hope, we come to meet the living Christ; not the clamour of the Temple [ancient or fashionable].

It no longer sends precious messages; it only takes notes. It beats in our heads, but it does not touch us inside.

It will trap us in a web of predictable thoughts, hostile surveillance, induced customs, and so on.

Domestications devoid of affinity with events of specific weight - without the allied step of people of a particular culture and sensitivity.

Those who are healing the world.

Despite their ostensible belonging, behind sacred official scenes, relationships often loosen; they do not regenerate.

In those territories, models and prototypes, codes and patents, the obtuseness of petty prima donnas - figures of narrow-mindedness - are often born.

Instead, if recognised [as in the case of the Samaritan], a Presence in our favour allows us to rediscover, discover and understand.

It proceeds unrivalled through all our states of mind - without any more remorse for duties that do not belong to us.

Such Friendship allows us to recover the fixed points of truly intimate human codes, enhancing - outside the lines - both the system of recognition of ourselves and the authentic and unrepeatable way of honouring God in our brothers and sisters.

No longer the exclusive privilege of the elect and the best... all of whom are undecisive.

Regarding the essential divine willingness to embrace differences as riches, we recall the teaching of the Sufi master Ibn Ata Allah, who advocated the unparalleled immediacy of personal dialogue - where the wisdom of analysis and the experience of intoxication come together:

"He brings enlightenment upon you so that through it you may reach Him; He brings it upon you to remove you from the hands of others; He brings it upon you to free you from the slavery of creatures; He brings it upon you to bring you out of the prison of your existence towards the heaven of contemplation of Him."

A new, full, definitive life.

People of faith detach themselves from external religious identity: they dream, love and invent paths; they deviate and do not follow a path already traced.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

This Sunday's Gospel presents Jesus healing 10 lepers, of whom only one, a Samaritan and therefore a foreigner, returned to thank him (cf. Lk 17: 11-19). The Lord said to him: "Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well" (Lk 17: 19). This Gospel passage invites us to a twofold reflection. It first evokes two levels of healing: one, more superficial, concerns the body. The other deeper level touches the innermost depths of the person, what the Bible calls "the heart", and from there spreads to the whole of a person's life. Complete and radical healing is "salvation". By making a distinction between "health" and "salvation", even ordinary language helps us to understand that salvation is far more than health: indeed, it is new, full and definitive life. Furthermore, Jesus here, as in other circumstances, says the words: "Your faith has made you whole". It is faith that saves human beings, re-establishing them in their profound relationship with God, themselves and others; and faith is expressed in gratitude. Those who, like the healed Samaritan, know how to say "thank you", show that they do not consider everything as their due but as a gift that comes ultimately from God, even when it arrives through men and women or through nature. Faith thus entails the opening of the person to the Lord's grace; it means recognizing that everything is a gift, everything is grace. What a treasure is hidden in two small words: "thank you"!

Jesus healed 10 people sick with leprosy, a disease in those times considered a "contagious impurity" that required ritual cleansing (cf. Lv 14: 1-37). Indeed, the "leprosy" that truly disfigures the human being and society is sin; it is pride and selfishness that spawn indifference, hatred and violence in the human soul. No one, save God who is Love, can heal this leprosy of the spirit which scars the face of humanity. By opening his heart to God, the person who converts is inwardly healed from evil. 

"Repent, and believe in the Gospel" (Mk 1: 15). Jesus began his public life with this invitation that continues to resonate in the Church to the point that in her apparitions, the Virgin Most Holy has renewed this appeal, especially in recent times. Today, let us think in particular of Fatima, where precisely 90 years ago, from 13 May to 13 October 1917, the Virgin appeared to the three little shepherd children: Lucia, Jacinta and Francisco. Thanks to radio and television link-up, I would like to be spiritually present at this Marian Shrine where Secretary of State Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone has presided on my behalf at the concluding celebrations of this most important anniversary. I cordially greet him, the other Cardinals and Bishops present, the priests who work at the shrine and the pilgrims who have come from every part of the world for the occasion. Let us ask Our Lady for the gift of true conversion for all Christians, so that they may proclaim and witness consistently and faithfully to the perennial message of the Gospel, which points out to humanity the path of authentic peace.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus, 14 October 2007]

“Mga kaibigan” (Dear friends)  

“Maraming salamat sa inyong lahat” (I warmly thank you all).  

I would have liked to visit you at your homes, but it was not possible. I thank you for coming to meet me instead. I thank you for representing others who wanted so much to come but were unable to do so. Being with you today brings great joy to my heart. I greet you with affection and hope you know how much I have looked forward to this meeting.  

During my previous pastoral visits to Africa and Brazil, I met other men and women suffering from leprosy. These encounters left a deep impression on me, because I was able to appreciate the loving patience and courage with which they live despite their trials and adversities.  

1. I am here in the name of Christ Jesus to remind you of his extraordinary love for all his brothers and sisters, but especially for each one of you. The Gospels bear witness to this truth. Think for a moment how often Jesus showed his concern by transforming situations of need into moments of grace. In the Gospel of Saint Luke, for example, Jesus is approached by ten lepers who ask to be healed. The Lord commands them to show themselves to the priests, and on the way they are healed. One of them returns to give thanks. In his gratitude, he demonstrates a faith that is strong, joyful and full of praise for the wonder of God's gifts. Clearly, Jesus touched the very core of this man's being with his love.  

2. Again in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, we are presented with a leper who asks Jesus to heal him, but only if it is his will. How grateful the man is when his request is heard! He sets out to spread the joyful news of the miracle to all those he meets. Such great happiness comes from the man's faith. His words, "if you are willing, you can make me clean," reflect a willingness to accept whatever Jesus desires for him. And his faith in Jesus was not disappointed! Dear brothers and sisters, may your faith in Jesus be no less firm and constant than the faith of these people in the Gospels.  

3. I know that your affliction involves intense suffering, not only through its physical manifestations, but also because of the misunderstandings that many people in society continue to associate with Hansen's disease. You often encounter very old prejudices, and these become a source of even greater suffering. For my part, I will continue to proclaim before the world the need for even greater awareness that, with appropriate help, this disease can indeed be overcome. For this reason, I ask everyone everywhere to give ever greater support to the courageous efforts being made to eradicate leprosy and to treat effectively those who are still affected by it.  

4. I pray that you will never be discouraged or embittered. Wherever and whenever you encounter the Cross, embrace it as Jesus did, so that the Father's will may be done. May your suffering be offered for the benefit of the whole Church, so that you may say with St Paul: "Therefore I am glad in my sufferings... and I fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ, for the sake of His Body, which is the Church..." (Col 1:24).  

Three days ago, I beatified sixteen martyrs of Nagasaki in your country. Among them is Blessed Lazarus of Kyoto, who was a leper. How we rejoice at the help that Blessed Lazarus gave to the missionaries as a translator and guide. Ultimately, his commitment to spreading the Gospel cost him his life; he died shedding his blood for the faith. His love for Christ brought him much suffering, even excruciating pain! He experienced misunderstanding, rejection and hatred from others in his service to the Church! But with the strength of God's grace, Blessed Lazarus bore witness to the faith and merited the precious gift of the crown of martyrdom.  

Dear friends, I invite you to imitate the courage of Blessed Lazarus who is so close to you. Share the convictions of your faith with your brothers and sisters who suffer with you. Recall the love of the doctors, nurses and volunteers who care for you so generously. Work to build a living community of faith, a community that supports, strengthens and enriches the universal Church. Here is your service to Christ! Here is the challenge for your life! Here is where you can manifest your faith, your hope and your love!  

May God bless you, dear brothers and sisters! May he bless all those suffering from leprosy in this country! May he bless your families, your friends and all those who care for you! “Ai higit sa lahat, inihahabilin ko ang aking sarili sa inyong panalangin, sa inyong pagmamahal” (And above all, I commend myself to your prayers and your love).

[Pope John Paul II, Address at the Tala Leprosarium, Manila, 21 February 1981]

Today, I would like to focus on the prayer of thanksgiving. And I take my cue from an episode recounted by the Evangelist Luke. While Jesus was on the way, ten lepers approached Him, begging: “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” (17:13). We know that those who had leprosy suffered not only physically, but also from social marginalization and religious marginalization. They were marginalized. Jesus did not back off from meeting them. Sometimes, he went beyond the limitations imposed by the law and touched the sick — which was not permitted — he embraced and healed them. In this case, there was no contact. From a distance, Jesus invited them to present themselves to the priests (v. 14), who were designated by law to certify any healings that had occurred. Jesus said nothing else. He listened to their prayer, he heard their cry for mercy, and he sent them immediately to the priests.

Those 10 lepers trusted, they did not remain there until they were cured, no: they trusted and they went immediately, and while they were on their way, all 10 of them were cured. The priests would have therefore been able to verify their healing and readmit them to normal life. But here is the most important point: only one in the group, before going to the priests, returned to thank Jesus and to praise God for the grace received. Only one, the other nine continued on their way. And Jesus points out that that man was a Samaritan, a sort of “heretic” for the Jews of that time. Jesus comments: “Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” (17:18). This narrative is touching.

This narrative, so to speak, divides the world in two: those who do not give thanks and those who do; those who take everything as if it is owed them, and those who welcome everything as a gift, as grace. The Catechism says: “every event and need can become an offering of thanksgiving” (n. 2638). The prayer of thanksgiving always begins from here: from the recognition that grace precedes us. We were thought of before we learned how to think; we were loved before we learned how to love; we were desired before our hearts conceived a desire. If we view life like this, then “thank you” becomes the driving force of our day. And how often we even forget to say “thank you”.

For us Christians, thanksgiving was the name given to the most essential Sacrament there is: the Eucharist . In fact, the Greek word means precisely this: thanksgiving . Eucharist: thanksgiving. Christians, as all believers, bless God for the gift of life. To live is above all to have received life. All of us are born because someone wanted us to have life. And this is only the first of a long series of debts that we incur by living. Debts of gratitude. During our lives, more than one person has gazed on us with pure eyes, gratuitously. Often, these people are educators, catechists, persons who carried out their roles above and beyond what was required of them. And they stirred gratitude within us. Even friendship is a gift for which we should always be grateful.

This “thank you” that we must say continually, this thanks that Christians share with everyone, grows in the encounter with Jesus. The Gospels attest that when Jesus passed by, he often stirred joy and praise to God in those who met Him. The Gospel accounts of Christmas are filled with prayerful people whose hearts are greatly moved by the coming of the Saviour. And we too were called to participate in this immense jubilation. The episode of the ten lepers who are healed also suggests this. Naturally, they were all happy about having recovered their health, thus being allowed to end that unending forced quarantine that excluded them from the community. But among them, there was one who experienced an additional joy: in addition to being healed, he rejoices at the encounter with Jesus. He is not only freed from evil, but he now possesses the certainty of being loved. This is the crux: when you thank someone, you express the certainty that you are loved. And this is a huge step: to have the certainty that you are loved. It is the discovery of love as the force that governs the world. Dante would say: the Love that “moves the sun and other stars” (Paradise, XXIII, 145). We are no longer vagabonds wandering aimlessly here and there, no: we have a home, we dwell in Christ, and from that “dwelling” we contemplate the rest of the world which appears infinitely more beautiful to us. We are children of love, we are brothers and sisters of love. We are men and women of grace.

Therefore, brothers and sisters, let us seek to remain always in the joy of the encounter with Jesus. Let us cultivate joyfulness. The devil, instead, after having deluded us — with whatever temptation — always leaves us sad and alone. If we are in Christ, there is no sin and no threat that can ever prevent us from continuing our journey with joy, along with many fellow travel companions.

Above all, let us not forget to thank: if we are bearers of gratitude, the world itself will become better, even if only a little bit, but that is enough to transmit a bit of hope. The world needs hope. And with gratitude, with this attitude of thanksgiving, we transmit a bit of hope. Everything is united and everything is connected, and each one can do their part wherever they are. The path to happiness is the one that Saint Paul described at the end of one of his letters: “Pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit” (1Thess 5:17-19). Do not quench the Spirit, what a beautiful project of life! Not quenching the Spirit that we have within leads us to gratitude.

[Pope Francis, General Audience, 30 December 2020]

Brethren all and ourselves

(Lk 11:27-28)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They become slipknot laces.

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

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

[Saturday 27th wk.  in O.T.  October 11, 2025]

Brothers all and ourselves

(Lk 11:27-28)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They become [it is worth repeating] slipknots.

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

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

To internalise and live the message:

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

For what reason?

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

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

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

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

[Pope Benedict, homily at Fatima 13 May 2010]