25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [21 September 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us. As we resume our pastoral activities, the word of God guides us to understand where the true riches of life lie. 

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Amos (8:4–7)

This is certainly a grave moment, for this text from the prophet Amos concludes with a solemn formula: 'The Lord swears by the pride of Jacob' (v. 7). 'The pride of Jacob' is God himself, because he is (or should be) the only pride of his people; in other words, the Lord swears by himself. God can only commit himself to himself! But what is God swearing about? He assures that he will not forget "all their deeds", that is, all the misdeeds of Israel that the prophet Amos condemns because they seek only to enrich themselves at the expense of others. Amos is a prophet of the 8th century BC, when Palestine was divided into two kingdoms. A small shepherd from a village in the south (Tekoa, near Bethlehem), he was chosen by God to go and preach in the northern kingdom, also called Samaria after its capital. Under the reign of Jeroboam II, around 750 BC, Samaria experienced a period of economic prosperity, but this prosperity did not benefit everyone. On the contrary, Amos noted that the enrichment of some came at the expense of the impoverishment of others, simply because basic necessities, such as daily bread or sandals, were in the hands of unscrupulous sellers. Thus, the poor had no other solution, in order not to die of hunger or cold, than to sell themselves as slaves, 'buying the needy and the poor for a pair of sandals' (v. 6). Those who suffer injustice may try to seek justice, but whenever there is a trial for fraud or obvious scams, the courts take the side of the rich against the poor simply because the rich pay the judges. Amos says it clearly: 'They turn justice into poison and throw righteousness to the ground' (5:7). Justice itself is distorted, corrupted. The text we have heard is therefore one in which Amos speaks to announce God's judgement, and it is a veritable indictment: he states the facts, then gives his verdict: You crush the poor, you destroy the humble of the earth, and you ask when the new moon festival will be over so that we can sell our grain?  The new moon, the first day of the month (called 'neomenia'), was a holiday: no work, no travel, no commercial activity was allowed because it was a day of rest like the Sabbath. This time of suspension of business served to turn man towards God. But here it seems that it is lived with impatience, because man now has another master: money, and for those whose only thought is profit, a day of rest is a loss. This is why Amos rebukes: 'Hear this, you who trample on the poor... and say, "When will the new moon be over so that we may sell our grain? (v.7). He targets dishonest sellers, for whom trade means fraud, with exorbitant prices and falsified scales. The image of the falsified scales has a double meaning: on the one hand, we understand how a crooked balance can falsify a measurement, but, more profoundly, it means that the whole of society lives on rigged scales. Ultimately, Amos reproaches the people of Samaria for living in falsehood and injustice: the scales are rigged, justice is corrupt, holidays are observed reluctantly and with ulterior motives; in short, everything is rigged. Here, then, is the judgement: 'The Lord swears by the pride of Jacob: I will not forget all their deeds' (v. 7). In other words: You who enrich yourselves unjustly, quickly forget your crimes, and the courts follow you; but the Lord declares that all this must not be forgotten and that you must not become accustomed to injustice. Amos pronounces his warning in the most solemn way possible, because there is a very serious lesson: the first thing God asks of his people is to live in justice, and a society founded on injustice and misery of all kinds can only offend God. Amos is all the more severe because, for a hundred years, the Northern Kingdom has boasted of having eliminated idolatry by abolishing the cults of Baal; but in reality, what Amos reproaches them for is having fallen into an even more dangerous idolatry: that of money.

*Responsorial Psalm (113/[112])

This psalm is the first of those that Jesus sang on Holy Thursday evening before leaving for the Mount of Olives. The first word he sang was Alleluia, which literally means Praise God: Allelu is the imperative, praise; and Ya is the first syllable of the Holy Name. Therefore, it is a psalm of praise, as can be understood from the first word: Alleluia. The composition of this psalm is interesting, consisting of two parts of four verses each, framing a central verse. The central verse is a question: 'Who is like our Lord God? (v. 5) and the two parts contemplate the two faces of the mystery of God: his holiness and his mercy. In his revelation, God has made himself known as the Transcendent, the All-Holy and as the Merciful, the All-Near. To manifest his holiness, his Name, 'the Lord', is repeated, the Name of God, revealed by himself in four letters (YHWH) which, however, are never pronounced. And as we know, in the Bible, when these four letters appear, the Hebrew reader spontaneously replaces them with 'Adonai', which means My Lord, and which does not claim to describe or define God. The term 'Lord', which expresses well the distance between God and us, is used five times, while 'the Name' is used three times, and the verb 'to praise' three times. The great discovery is found in the central verse: 'Who is like our Lord God?': the God of glory is at the same time the God of mercy. The second part of the psalm describes God's action in favour of the smallest and poorest: he lifts the weak from the dust, he raises the poor from the rubbish (v. 7). Among the weak and poor was the barren woman, who lived in constant fear of being rejected: "He settles the barren woman in her home, a joyful mother of children" (v. 9). Sarah, Abraham's wife, experienced this miraculous reversal: the joy of the barren woman who, after several years, found herself with a house full of children. The Bible loves to emphasise these reversals of situation: because nothing is impossible for God. Mary's Magnificat is full of this confident certainty. When, after the Last Supper, Jesus sang this psalm with his disciples as they climbed the Mount of Olives, he felt the verse "he lifts the weak from the dust" in a special way. He was heading towards his death, and he certainly recognised here a proclamation of his resurrection. 

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to Timothy (2:1-8)

At the heart of this passage is a phrase that sums up the entire Bible, is central to Paul's thinking, and above all is central to the history of humanity: "God our Saviour wants all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (v. 4). Every word is important: 'God wants': it is the mystery of his will, that plan of mercy that he had already established in himself to bring the times to their fullness, as the letter to the Ephesians says (cf. 1:9-10). God's will is a will for salvation that concerns all people.  Paul insists on the universal dimension of God's plan: "God, our Saviour, wants all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth." In sentences like this, the word "and" can be replaced by "that is"; we must therefore understand: God wants all men to be saved, that is, to come to the full knowledge of the truth. And what is truth? It is that God loves us and is always with us to fill us with his love. To be saved means to know this truth according to the biblical meaning of 'knowing': that is, to live it, to allow ourselves to be loved and transformed by it. As long as people do not know God's love, they remain prisoners, and Christ came to set us free. This is why we find the expression 'he gave himself as a ransom for all' (v. 6): each time, the word 'ransom' can be replaced with 'liberation': believing in God's love for all men and living by this love means being saved. So, true prayer, as Paul says, is entering into God's plan to be able to spread the Gospel like a spark that spreads. In the last sentence, Paul's insistence is not so much about outward appearance, but about the state of mind with which we must present ourselves in prayer: "I want men everywhere to pray, lifting up holy hands without anger or disputing." How can we enter into God's plan of love for all if our hearts are full of anger and evil intentions? Most likely, we can glimpse signs of serious difficulties, opposition, divisions, perhaps even persecution, in the community to which this letter was addressed. We cannot make precise assumptions, since we are not even sure of the date of the letter's composition, nor whether it is entirely by Paul or by one of his disciples. But that does not matter: what matters, in every age and in every difficulty, is that we must never forget that God wants all people to be saved and to come to the full knowledge of the truth, that is, of God's love.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (16:1-13)

This text holds a surprise: Jesus seems to be complimenting the swindlers: 'The master praised that dishonest steward because he had acted shrewdly' (v. 8). Be careful not to misunderstand! Jesus calls him dishonest, that is, wicked, because honesty was part of the most basic morality. Therefore, Jesus' intention is certainly not to go against basic morality, and he is careful to point out that the master praises the man for his shrewdness. If Jesus uses a provocative example, it is to make us reflect on something serious, as the last sentence shows: there is an urgent choice to be made between God and money because one cannot serve both God and money. Jesus lists a series of oppositions: between the children of this world and the children of light, between a small thing and a great thing, between deceitful money and authentic good, between the goods of others and what is truly ours. All these oppositions have a single purpose: to make us discover that money is a deception and that devoting one's life to making money is the wrong path; it is as serious as idolatry, which the prophets have always fought against. In the phrase, 'You cannot serve God and money', the verb 'serve' has a religious meaning. There is only one God: do not make idols, because all idolatry enslaves you, and money can become an end in itself and no longer a means. When you are obsessed with the desire to earn money, you quickly become a slave: it is important to beware of what you possess so that you are not possessed by it, as popular wisdom says. The Sabbath was also instituted to rediscover, once a week, the taste of gratuitousness, a way to remain free. Money is deceptive in two ways: first, it makes us believe that it will ensure our happiness, but one day we will have to leave everything behind. In Jesus' words, the expression 'when it fails' (v. 9) is an allusion to death, and there is certainly no great interest in being the richest person in the cemetery! Furthermore, money deceives us if we think that it belongs only to us. Jesus does not despise money, but puts it at the service of the Kingdom, that is, for the good of others, and no one is its owner, but rather its administrator. If it is true that there is no point in being the richest person in the cemetery, it makes a lot of sense to be rich so that others can benefit from it too. The question "if you have not been faithful with dishonest wealth, who will entrust you with true wealth?" (v. 11) helps us to understand that trust is important in the use of money: God trusts us, entrusts us with money of which we are administrators and responsible. All our wealth, of whatever kind, has been entrusted to us as stewards so that we may share it, transforming it into happiness for those around us. This helps us to better understand the previous parable, the story of the steward threatened with dismissal who, in order to save himself, once again gives gifts from his master's goods to make friends who will welcome him. He was completely dishonest, but he was able to quickly find an ingenious solution to secure his future. The cunning here lies in using money as a means and not as an end. It is therefore not dishonesty that Jesus admires, but skill: what are we waiting for to find creative solutions to secure everyone's future? The thirst for gain makes many people inventive; Jesus would like our passion for justice or peace to make us just as inventive! The day we devote as much time and intelligence to seeking ways of peace, justice and sharing as we devote to accumulating more money than we need, the face of the world will change. Ultimately, the moral of the parable can be summarised as follows: choose God decisively and put the same intelligence that you would use to make money at the service of the Kingdom. The children of light know that money is only a small thing; the Kingdom is the big thing, and that is why they do not serve money as a deity, but use it for the good of all.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

And the Feet of Jesus, kissed by the unexpected and censored guest

(Lk 7:36-50)

It is Love that path of perfection desired by God to make us grow, and to our benefit - not a formalism sterilised by strict censors.

What unites us seriously in beliefs comes from within, from our Core; it does not depend on the outside.

Love is not planned at a desk or on the basis of models. It expresses the heart with sincerity.

It is not a reality that is subject to distances that deem others to be nosy.

So empathy and loving-kindness do not appear or disappear on command, according to code or season.

They belong to the deep side of being women and men of all times.

It is passion that can lead one's existence in the Spirit in a valuable way, not a ritual landscape.

Love with all our heart is triggered when we need to make the decisive Encounter: that opportunity we feel will open the door to resources, skills, talents, energies, otherwise unexpressed or stifled.

Dissolving her hair in public, the 'sinner woman' almost seems to be a figure of the 'lesser boat' that offers no resistance but only support to the protagonist one (Lk 5.2.7.11).

It is a spurious and second community, compared to the official church of the apostles who are always “close” - and of mixed cultural extraction, unlike the first community which was still Judaizing.

She comes to the You-for-you with a gesture of independence: she needs a more spontaneous and personal relationship with the Lord, the only one who looks at her in a non-superficial way.

Relationship impeded precisely by those who crowd around Him, but do not appreciate the favour received, although they have been partaking of the [Eucharistic] banquet for a long time.

The ‘safety’ of mechanisms and ideas laced with prejudice prevents one from experiencing the Gratis. Here is the link between tears and Forgiveness.

He who pushes away the unpredictable does not unleash any new inner strength. He fears any jolt that might shatter his habitual, plastered world.

Habituals block any emancipation or discovery. They dislike people who need to free themselves from the straits of life.

They are not worshippers of the great Master's Way [cf. the constant reference to his «Feet»].

Total intimate adherence comes before anything we can fulfil or think.

The all-human transport without curtains is that which would not make us overburdened with arrogance and unable to recognise his Gifts.

He who is convinced that he gives something to God, certainly does not love him.

And the choice that concerns us is between negligible details or getting to the heart of the authentic Relationship.

On this floor, the Home master is immediately dizzy.

Simon is frightened by the very idea of the Master attempting to bring him into a new logic: «I suppose...» (v.43).

The Gospel passage is meant to make us reflect on who is most willing to grow and love.

Let us ask ourselves: are they the ones who [like Simon] can set up respectable screens, or the small souls who spontaneously approach their 'source' - devoid of social masks?

In short, Redemption is the fruit of moved personal immediacy, even already achieved without works of law.

[Thursday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 18, 2025]

And the Feet of Jesus, kissed by the unexpected and censured guest

(Lk 7:36-50)

It is Love that path of perfection desired by God to make us grow, and to our benefit - not the sterilised formalism and coercive power set up in Simon's House (in the Church, by Peter and other strict censors).

What unites seriously in conviction comes from within, from our Core; it does not depend on the outside.

Love does not programme itself at a desk or on the basis of sacred models, nor does it endure cerebral and moralistic binaries. It expresses the heart with sincerity.

It is not a reality that is subject to social distances, class - or circle more or less disciplined by the profession (dependent on the 'behind the scenes') that resists the obligation to unite with the different, deemed inadequate impure meddlers.

So empathy and loving-kindness do not appear or disappear on command, by design and according to code, discipline, season.

They belong to the deep side of being women and men of all times.

It is not façade respectability, nor ritual landscape, that can lead one's existence in the Spirit in a worthy manner, but passion.

Here is the link between tears and forgiveness.

Hetero-directed formalisms - with their unfestive formulas that do not belong to us - annihilate our essence and our most powerful emotions.

The social pact demanded by the gerontocracy is a reference always outside of us: and it will be the usual good of tradition, of opinion, of surroundings, of calculation in situation, of manners and of 'spin'; in any case, of others.

Are we really empty losers, or destined only to have to support the veterans, with no room for critical witness and active language? 

And underneath imitating 'fathers', models, codes already designed (even down to the tiniest detail) for the use of the traditional sentiments of increasingly aged assemblies?

Love with all our hearts is triggered when we need to make the decisive encounter: that opportunity we feel will open the door to resources, capacities, talents, energies, otherwise unexpressed or stifled.

By letting her hair down in public, the 'sinner' almost seems to be a figure of the lesser 'boat', which offers itself and offers no resistance but only support to the protagonist (Lk 5.2.7.11).

It is a spurious and second community, compared to the official church of the apostles who are always 'close' - and of mixed cultural extraction, unlike the first community that was still Judaizing.

It proposes itself to the You-for-you with a gesture of independence: it needs a more spontaneous and personal relationship with the Lord, the only one who looks at it in a non-superficial way.

A relationship prevented precisely by those who crowd around Him, but to gag Him, and to lie down.

The regulars - all predictable - do not appreciate the favour they receive, although they have been partaking of the (Eucharistic) banquet for a long time, but now only as practitioners of the most reiterated litanies.

The 'security' of mechanisms and ideas laced with prejudice prevents them from experiencing the Gratis.

Instead of welcoming, the old guides pushed away; they lived only with their followers - servants and courtiers - in the world of archaic incantations.

They did not bring forth any new inner strength. They feared any jolt that might crack their pedestal.

They blocked any emancipation or discovery. They were not worshippers of people who needed to free themselves from the straits of life.

They were not worshippers of the Master's great Path (cf. the constant reference to his 'feet') but slavish merchants of abstract signs - already established or smuggled in - and of a Jesus reduced to a motionless sphinx (or devout, ritual and 'cultural' icon).

Total intimate adherence comes before anything we can fulfil or think. It does not combine with positional opportunism for Christ.

The all-human transport without curtains is what would not make us overwhelmed with arrogance and unable to recognise his Gifts.

He who is convinced that he gives God something, certainly does not love him. He cares only for himself: the predatory, deceitful appearance.

Even today, the choice that concerns us is between negligible details or entering into the heart of authentic Relationship.

On this level, the Master of the House suffered dizziness right from the start.

Simon is frightened by the mere idea of the Master attempting to make him enter into a new logic: "I suppose..." (v.43).

He fears the looming of any alternative jolt that might crack his habitual, congealed world.

While the real world follows its cycles, the entrenched ones demand stability - but in doing so they stunt growth.

Instead, by accepting the unforeseen, we discover unexplored sides, juxtaposing inherent potentials that we had not allowed space for.

Continuous change is simply the spice of life. And the very end of a religious-cultural paradigm is inevitable.

Therefore, it becomes essential to take a genuine attitude, and get involved.Salvation is the fruit of moved personal immediacy, and even already obtained without works of law: not labour relations and hypocrisy [overtime against compensation] in aseptic environments, with aged, addicted and mouldy hearts.

In short, the Gospel passage is meant to make us reflect on who is more willing to love: those who can set up screens behind which they can allow themselves even that which they blatantly deny... or the little souls who spontaneously approach their 'source' - devoid of social masks?

To internalise and live the message:

Looking at our behaviour, would the outcasts from the respectable circle be certain to be spontaneously and freely welcomed by us today?

Simon, a Pharisee and rich 'notable' of the city, holds a banquet in his house in honour of Jesus. Unexpectedly from the back of the room enters a guest who was neither invited nor expected: a notorious prostitute. The unease of those present is understandable, but the woman does not seem to mind. She advances and, rather furtively, stops at the feet of Jesus. His words of forgiveness and hope for all, even the prostitutes, have reached her ear; she is moved and stands there silently. She bathes Jesus' feet with her tears, dries them with her hair, kisses them and anoints them with a sweet perfume. In doing so, the sinner wants to express her affection and gratitude towards the Lord with gestures that are familiar to her, even if socially censured.

Faced with general embarrassment, it is Jesus himself who addresses the situation: 'Simon, I have something to tell you'. "Go ahead, Master," the landlord replies to him. We are all familiar with Jesus' response in a parable that could be summed up in the following words that the Lord basically says to Simon: 'See? This woman knows she is a sinner and, moved by love, she asks for understanding and forgiveness. You, on the other hand, presume to be righteous and are perhaps convinced that you have nothing serious to be forgiven'.

The message from the Gospel passage is eloquent: to those who love much, God forgives all things. He who trusts in himself and his own merits is as if blinded by his ego and his heart hardens in sin. Instead, he who recognises himself as weak and a sinner entrusts himself to God and from Him obtains grace and forgiveness.

[Pope Benedict, Audience to the participants in the course of the Apostolic Penitentiary, 7 March 2008]

2. In the light of Revelation, however, we know with consoling certainty that God understands human weakness and is ready to forgive. He is a Father rich in love and mercy. This is eloquently demonstrated to us in the account of the "sinful woman" who, repentant and confiding, honours Jesus in the house of Simon the Pharisee.

To Simon Jesus says, referring to the sinful woman: "Her many sins are forgiven, because she has loved much!"; and to the woman: "Your faith has saved you; go in peace!". Jesus affirms with divine authority the forgiveness of sins. He simultaneously demands repentance and a change of life.

3. Dear Brothers and Sisters! Let us always keep alive in us a sense of trust in God's goodness and mercy. There is no sin that God does not want to forgive, when one is repentant and resolved never to sin again. The repentance of the Magdalene and the parable told by Jesus to Simon are in this respect very rich in meaning. Decisive, of course, must be the condemnation of evil, but understanding and patience is needed towards the one who sins. The liturgy thus invites us to be messengers of truth and mercy, of forgiveness and joy.

We find ourselves at the Grotto of the Virgin, which recalls that of Lourdes. We recall the definition that St Bernadette gave of sin: "Sinner is he who loves sin!". Invited to go to the Grotto of Massabielle, to ask and possibly obtain from Our Lady a cure for her illness, Bernadette replied: "Lourdes is not for me! Lourdes is for poor sinners!".

Let us invoke Mary Most Holy for the salvation of sinners; let us pray that faith in the Lord, who awaits his children with infinite love and mercy, may never fail in believers.

"Blessed is the man whose guilt is forgiven and whose sin is forgiven!" (Ps 32)

[Pope John Paul II, homily 18 June 1995]

Today we would like to stop and wonder at an aspect of mercy which is well presented in the passage we heard from the Gospel of Luke. It deals with something that happened to Jesus while he was the guest of a Pharisee called Simon. He wanted to invite Jesus to his home because he had heard others speak well of him as a great prophet. And while they were seated at a meal, there entered a woman, known throughout the city to be a sinner. This woman, without saying a word, threw herself at Jesus’ feet and burst into tears; her tears bathed the feet of Jesus and she dried them with her hair, then kissed them and anointed them with the perfumed oil she had brought with her.

Two figures stand out: Simon, the zealous servant of the law, and the anonymous sinful woman. While the former judges others based on appearances, the latter, through her actions, expresses the sincerity of her heart. Simon, though having invited Jesus, does not want to compromise himself or entangle his life with the Master; the woman, on the contrary, entrusts herself completely to him with love and veneration.

The Pharisee cannot fathom why Jesus would let himself be “contaminated” by sinners. He thinks that were Jesus a real prophet he would recognize them and keep his distance in order to keep from being sullied, as if they were lepers. This attitude is typical of a certain way of understanding religion, and it is based on the fact that God and sin are radically opposed. The Word of God, however, teaches us to distinguish sin from the sinner: one should not have to compromise with sin, but sinners — that is, all of us! — are like the sick, who need to be treated. And in order to heal them the doctor needs to get close, examine them, touch them. Naturally, the sick person, in order to be healed, must recognize that he needs the doctor!

Between the Pharisee and the sinful woman, Jesus sides with the latter. Jesus, free of the prejudices that hinder the expression of mercy, lets her do it. He, the Holy One of God, lets her touch him without fear of contamination. Jesus is free, because he is close to God who is the merciful Father. And this closeness to God, the merciful Father, gives Jesus freedom. Furthermore, by entering into a relationship with the sinner, Jesus puts an end to that state of isolation to which the ruthless judgment of the Pharisee and of her fellow citizens — the same who exploited her — had condemned her: “Your sins are forgiven” (Lk 7:48). The woman can now go “in peace”. The Lord sees the sincerity of her faith and conversion; thus before everyone he proclaims: “Your faith has saved you” (v. 50). On one side there is the lawyer’s hypocrisy, on the other, the sincerity, humility and faith of the woman. We are all sinners, but too often we fall into the temptation of hypocrisy, of believing ourselves to be better than others and we say: “Just look at your sin...”. We all need, however, to look to our own sins, our own shortcomings, our own mistakes, and to look to the Lord. This is the lifeline of salvation: the relation between the “I” of the sinner and the Lord. If I feel I am righteous, there is no saving relationship.

At this point, an even greater wonder assails all those at the table: “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” (v. 49). Jesus does not answer explicitly, but the conversion of the sinner is before the eyes of all and it shows that from him there emanates the power of the mercy of God, which is able to transform hearts.

The sinful woman teaches us the connection between faith, love, and recognition. “Many sins” have been forgiven her and therefore she has loved much; “but he who is forgiven little, loves little” (v. 47). Even Simon himself has to admit that the one who is guiltiest loves more. God has wrapped each and every one of us in the same mystery of mercy; and from his love, which always comes to us first, we learn how to love. As St Paul recalls: “in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to his grace which he lavished on us” (Eph 1:7-8). In this passage, “grace” is virtually synonymous with mercy, and we are told that God has “lavished” it upon us, meaning that it far exceeds our expectations, since it brings to fulfillment God’s saving plan for each one of us.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us recognize the gift of faith, let us give thanks to the Lord for his love which is so great and unmerited! Let us allow the love of Christ be poured into us: the disciple draws from this love and founds himself on it; from this love each one of us can be nourished and fed. Thus, in the grateful love that we in turn pour out upon our brothers and sisters, in our homes, in our families and in our societies, the mercy of the Lord may be communicated to everyone.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 20 April 2016]

Exaltation of the Holy Cross [Sunday, 14 September 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!  Contemplating the Mystery of the Cross, we discover the sweetness of a love that is born where life seems to die. As he dies crucified, Jesus reveals forever the definitive victory of Love and Mercy.

*First Reading from the Book of Numbers (21:4–9)

The Book of Exodus and the Book of Numbers recount similar episodes: when the people, freed from slavery in Egypt, walk towards the Promised Land, they must face daily life in the desert, a totally inhospitable place. As slaves in Egypt, they were sedentary, certainly not accustomed to long marches on foot, but they had a master who fed them, so they did not die of hunger as they did in the desert, where they began to regret the famous onions of Egypt.  They were tempted by discouragement due to hunger, thirst and fear of all the inconveniences of the desert, and, disheartened, they began to murmur against God and Moses for leading them to die in the desert. The Lord then sent poisonous snakes against the people, and many Israelites died. At this point, the people repented, acknowledged their sin, and prayed to the Lord to remove the snakes. God commanded Moses to make a snake (tradition says of bronze) so that, when fixed on a pole, it could heal anyone who looked at it. It is interesting to consider how Moses reacted: he did not question whether or not the snakes came from God, but his aim was to lead this distrustful people to an attitude of trust, whatever the difficulties, because it was not so much the snakes as their lack of trust in God that was slowing down their journey to freedom. To educate them in the faith, he uses a familiar practice: the worship of a healing god represented by a bronze serpent on a pole (probably the ancestor of the caduceus, today's symbol of medicine). It was enough to look at the fetish to be healed. Moses does not destroy the tradition, but transforms it: Do as you always have done, but know that it is not the serpent that heals you but the Lord, and do not be confused because one God has freed you from Egypt, and by looking at the serpent, you are actually worshipping the God of the Covenant. Centuries later, the Book of Wisdom would comment: 'Those who turned to look at it were saved, not by the object they looked at, but by you, Saviour of all' (Wis 16:7). The struggle against idolatry, magic and divination runs through the entire biblical history and perhaps continues to this day. That bronze serpent, a sign to lead people to faith, came to be considered a magical object again, and for this reason King Hezekiah destroyed it definitively, as we read in the Book of Kings (2 Kings 18:4).

*Responsorial Psalm (77/78:3-4, 34-39)

In the responsorial psalm, taken from Psalm 77/78, we have a summary of the history of Israel, which unfolds in the relationship between God, who is always faithful, and that fickle people, who are forgetful but still aware of the importance of memory, so they repeat: 'We have heard what our fathers told us, we will repeat it to the next generation'. Faith is transmitted when those who have experienced salvation can say, 'God has saved me,' and in turn share their experience with others. It will then be up to their community to remember and preserve this testimony because faith is an experience of salvation shared over time. The Jewish people have always known that faith is not intellectual baggage, but the common experience of God's ever-renewed gift and forgiveness. This psalm expresses all this: in seventy-two verses, it recalls the experience of salvation that founded the faith of Israel, namely, liberation from Egypt, and for this reason, the psalm contains many allusions to the Exodus and Sinai. Listening in the biblical sense means adhering wholeheartedly to the Word of God, and if a generation neglects to continue to bear witness to its faithfulness to God, the chain of transmission of faith is broken. Often over the centuries, fathers have confessed to their children that they have murmured against God despite his acts of salvation. This is what the psalm speaks of and accuses the people of unfaithfulness and inconstancy: "They flattered him with their mouths, but murmured with their tongues; their hearts were not steadfast towards him, and they were not faithful to his covenant" (vv. 36-37). This is idolatry, the target of all prophets because it is the cause of humanity's misfortune. Every idol sets us back on the path to freedom, and the definition of an idol is precisely what prevents us from being free. Marx said that religion is the opium of the people, revealing in a crude way the power and manipulation that any religion, whatever it may be, can exert over humanity. Superstition, fetishism and witchcraft prevent us from being free and learning to freely assume our responsibilities, because they make us live in a regime of fear. Every idolatrous cult distances us from the living and true God: only the truth can make us free men. Even the excessive worship of a person or an ideology makes us slaves: just think of all the fundamentalisms and fanaticisms that disfigure us, and money too can very well become an idol. In other verses that are not part of this Sunday's liturgy, the psalm offers a very eloquent image, that of a deformed bow: the heart of Israel should be like a bow stretched towards its God, but it is crooked. And it is precisely within this ingratitude that Israel had its most beautiful experience: that of God's forgiveness, as the psalm clearly states: "Their heart was not steadfast toward him; they were not faithful to his covenant. But he, being merciful, forgave  their iniquity instead of destroying them" (v. 38). This description of  God's tender mercy shows that the psalm was written at a time when the revelation of the God of love had already deeply penetrated the faith of Israel. 

NOTE The great assembly at Shechem organised by Joshua had precisely this purpose: to revive the memory of this people who were the object of so much concern, but so often inclined to forget (Joshua 24: see the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time B): after reminding the assembled tribes of all God's works since Abraham, he said to them: "Choose today whom you will serve: either the Lord or an idol." And the tribes made the right choice that day, even if they would soon forget it. The transmission of faith is therefore like a relay race: "I have passed on to you what I myself have received," Paul says to the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:23), and the liturgy is the privileged place for this witness and for this reviving of memory in the sense of gratitude that comes from experience.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (2:6-1)

This passage from Paul is read every year on Palm Sunday and now on the Feast of the Glorious Cross: this means that the two celebrations have something in common, which is the close link between Christ's suffering and his glory, between the lowering of the cross and the exaltation of the resurrection. Paul says it clearly: 'Christ humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross... Therefore God exalted him above all else' (vv. 8-9). The expression 'therefore' indicates a strong link and contrast between humiliation and exaltation, but we must not read these sentences in terms of reward, as if Jesus, having behaved admirably, received an admirable reward. This could be the 'tendency' or rather the 'temptation', but God is love and knows no calculations, exchanges, or quid pro quo, because love is free. The wonder of God's love is that it does not wait for our merits to fill us, and in the Bible, men discovered this little by little because grace, as its name indicates, is free. So, if, as Paul says, Jesus suffered and was then glorified, it is not because his suffering had accumulated enough merit to earn him the right to be rewarded. Therefore, to be faithful to the text, we must read it in terms of gratuitousness. For Paul, it is clear that God's gift is free, and this is evident in all his letters, having experienced it himself. When we read, 'Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited' (v. 6), it is clear that Paul is alluding to Adam and Eve, and here Paul probably offers us a commentary on the story of the Garden of Eden: the tempter had said, 'You will be like God', and to become like God, all they had to do was disobey God. Eve reached out her hand towards the forbidden fruit and took it (the Greek labousa in theological reading is 'claimed to be like God' as if it were her right). Paul contrasts the attitude of Adam/Eve (grabbing/avenging) with that of Christ (welcoming freely, obeying). Jesus Christ was only acceptance (what Paul calls 'obedience'), and precisely because he was pure acceptance of God's gift and not vindication, he was able to let himself be filled by the Father, completely available to his gift. Jesus' choice is 'kenosis', the total emptying of himself marked by five verbs of humiliation: emptying himself, taking on the condition of a servant, becoming like men, humbling himself, becoming obedient. The cross is the abyss of annihilation (vv. 6-8), but also the climax of the second sentence of the hymn (vv. 9-11). 'God exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name' (v. 9). Jesus receives the Name that is above every name: the name 'Lord' is the name of God! To say that Jesus is Lord is to say that he is God: in the Old Testament, the title of Lord was reserved for God, as was genuflection. When Paul says, "For at the name of Jesus every knee should bend," he is alluding to a phrase from the prophet Isaiah: "Before me every knee shall bend, and every tongue shall swear allegiance" (Isaiah 45:23). The hymn concludes with 'every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father' (v. 11): seeing Christ bring love to its culmination, accepting to die to reveal the extent of God's love, we can say like the centurion: 'Truly this man was the Son of God'... because God is love.

*From the Gospel according to John (3:13-17)

The first surprise in this text is that Jesus speaks of the cross in positive, even 'glorious' terms: on the one hand, he uses the term 'lifted up' – 'the Son of Man must be lifted up' (v. 14) – and then this cross, which in our eyes is an instrument of torture and pain, is presented as proof of God's love: 'God so loved the world' (v. 17). How can the instrument of torture of an innocent person be glorious? And here lies the second surprise: the reference to the bronze serpent. Jesus uses this image because it was well known at the time. The first reading speaks at length about this event in the Sinai desert during the Exodus, following Moses. The Jews were attacked by poisonous snakes and, having a guilty conscience because they had murmured, they were convinced that this was a punishment from the God of Moses. They begged Moses to intercede, and Moses was commanded to fix a fiery (i.e., poisonous) serpent on a pole: whoever had been bitten and looked at it would live (Num 21:7-9). At first glance, it seems like pure magic, but in reality, it is exactly the opposite. Moses transforms what was until then a magical act into an act of faith. Jesus refers to this episode when speaking of himself: 'Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life' (vv. 14-15). If in the desert it was enough to look with faith towards the God of the Covenant to be physically healed, now it is necessary to look with faith at Christ on the cross to obtain inner healing. As is often the case in John's Gospel, the theme of faith returns: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" (v. 17).  When Jesus draws a parallel between the bronze serpent raised up in the desert and his own elevation on the cross, he also reveals the extraordinary leap that exists between the Old and New Testaments. Jesus brings everything to fulfilment, but in him everything takes on a new dimension. In the desert, only the people of the Covenant were involved; now, in him, the whole of humanity is invited to believe in order to have life: twice Jesus repeats that "whoever believes in him will have eternal life". Moreover, it is no longer just a matter of external healing, but of the profound transformation of man. At the moment of the crucifixion, John writes: 'They will look upon him whom they have pierced' (Jn 19:37), quoting the prophet Zechariah who had written: "On that day I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication; they will look upon me, the one they have pierced" (Zechariah 12:10). This "spirit of grace and supplication" is the opposite of the murmuring in the desert: man is now finally convinced of God's love for him.  There are therefore two ways of looking at the cross of Christ: as a sign of human hatred and cruelty, but above all as the emblem of the meekness and forgiveness of Christ, who accepts the cross to show us the extent of God's love for humanity. The cross is the very place where God's love is revealed: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9), Jesus said to Philip. Christ crucified shows God's tenderness, despite the hatred of men. That is why we can say that the cross is glorious: because it is the place where perfect love is manifested, that is, God himself, a God great enough to make himself small in order to share the life of men despite misunderstanding and hatred: he does not flee from his executioners and forgives from the height of the Cross. Those who accept to fall to their knees before such greatness are transformed forever: "But to all who did receive him, he gave them the right to become children of God, to those who believe in his name" (Jn 1:12).

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Stubbornness

(Lk 7:31-35)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realize the enormous difference between common religious belief, and Faith.

They emancipate us by overturning positions: those who used to feel defended and secure - or on the crest of the wave [fashionable] - now seem to understand nothing of God's action in us.

As the ‘providence of the new’ makes its way in, those who are tied to stagnant or fanciful forms stubbornly try to cling to them in order to curb the authenticities - which are nonetheless rampant.

The new leaders of the people and the veterans feel lost, as they begin to measure the hollowness of their arrogance, the futility of their prestige, the childish incoherence of their pathetic pretexts.

Capricious children always complain when they don't get a prominent place in the games, or when others don't do what they themselves say.

The Baptist was an eminent herald, called to the realization of God's plan [known because of his peculiar figure, perhaps more prone to renunciation].

But the preconception of mortification did not fit: therefore, a nuisance to be rejected.

The ‘Son of man’ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; he did not make an issue of purity [so he too was an exaggerator]: to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged the equal of a demoniac; the young Rabbi who invited joy, a laxer.

For the gravediggers of the holy city, John was too demanding, Jesus too broad in ideas and behaviour.

Spoilt kids do not even agree in the game, and stubbornly stand their ground.

The incontentatible children reject every proposal: they always have to retort.

The austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

The Lord, on the other hand, lived among people, accepted invitations and did not try to appear different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible [for one sent by God].

«Yet Wisdom has been justified by all sons» (v.35 Greek text); i.e. the little ones read the sign of the times.

The 'sons' recognise divine Wisdom, they see his plan.

They grasp the plan of Salvation in the preaching of the Baptist and the Christ.

They do not have too much ‘control’ over things; they are spontaneous friends with them.

They are aware of limitations and strengths; they even learn from subordinate positions, and from dark sides; they learn from fears.

They overcome the spiritual immobility of the great experts, critical of every breeze of change, or too abstract and sophisticated.

Both of which settle themselves and rule - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

They are like puerile and uncontactable figures, who neither get up nor move: «sitting» (v.32).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the ‘chosen ones’ remain indifferent or annoyed, because they are, grasp and understand “one thing only”.

They never close their ‘character’ to open another, or to explore different sides of themselves and the world. Their souls are starched.

Instead, he who does not have a closed heart is anticipating the Coming of a new Kingdom, is grasping his own eternal face.

[Wednesday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 17, 2025]