Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [1 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Rereading and meditating on the Beatitudes in Matthew's Gospel is always an invitation to rediscover the heart of the Gospel faith and to have the courage to live it faithfully.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Zephaniah (2:3; 3:12-13)

The Book of Zephaniah is striking for its sharp contrasts: on the one hand, there are terrible threats against Jerusalem, with the prophet appearing very angry; on the other hand, there are encouragements and promises of a happy future, always directed at the city. The question is: to whom are the threats addressed and to whom the encouragement? Historically, we are in the 7th century BC, in the kingdom of Judah, the southern kingdom. The young king Josiah ascends the throne at the age of eight, after the assassination of his father, in very turbulent times. The Assyrian empire, with its capital at Nineveh, is expanding, and local kings often prefer to surrender to avoid destruction: Jerusalem becomes a vassal of Nineveh. The prophets, however, firmly support the freedom of the chosen people: asking for an alliance with an earthly king means not trusting in the King of heaven. Accepting Assyrian protection was not only a political act, but also entailed the cultural and religious influence of the ruler, with the risk of idolatry and the loss of Israel's mission. Zephaniah denounced all this and prophesied punishment: 'I will raise my hand against Judah and against all the inhabitants of Jerusalem... on the day of the Lord's wrath' (Zephaniah 1:4-6), a text reminiscent of the famous Dies Irae. Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land. Alongside the threats, Zephaniah addresses a message of comfort to the "humble of the land" (in Hebrew anawim, the bowed down), who are law-abiding and righteous, and therefore protected from the Day of the Lord's wrath: God himself is with them. It is the day when creation will be renewed and evil destroyed. The message is not for others, but for each one of us: we are all called to conversion, to become "the humble of the land," the "Remnant of Israel" that the previous prophets had announced. God, who is faithful, will always save at least a small group that has remained faithful. It will be this small remnant, poor and humble, that will carry on the mission of the chosen people: to reveal God's plan to the world. Being humble means recognising one's own limitations (humus) and trusting totally in God. Thus, God's judgement is not against people, but against the evil that corrupts. The small faithful remnant will be the leaven in the world, preserving the true identity of the people and the divine mission. God's wrath strikes only evil, never the innocent. Zephaniah also criticises the adoption of Assyrian customs, such as foreign clothing (Zeph 1:8): it was not just fashion, but a sign of imitation of the pagans, a risk of losing identity and faith.

*Responsorial Psalm (145/146)

Here we have three verses from the Psalm as an inventory of the beneficiaries of God's mercy: the oppressed, the hungry, the chained, the blind, the afflicted, the strangers, the widows and the orphans—all those whom men ignore or despise. The Israelites know these situations because they have experienced them: oppression in Egypt, then in Babylon. The Psalm was written after the return from the Babylonian exile, perhaps for the dedication of the rebuilt Temple. Liberation from evil and oppression is perceived as proof of God's faithfulness to the covenant: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed, the Lord frees those in chains." God also provides for material needs: during the Exodus, he fed the people with manna and quails. Gradually, God reveals himself to the blind, lifts up the afflicted and guides the people towards justice: 'God loves the righteous'. The Psalm is therefore a song of gratitude: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed / gives bread to the hungry / frees those in chains / opens the eyes of the blind / lifts up those who are afflicted / loves the righteous / protects the stranger / supports widows and orphans. The Lord is your God forever." The insistence on the name Lord (7 times) recalls the sacred Tetragrammaton YHVH, revealed to Moses at the burning bush, symbol of God's constant and liberating presence. "The Lord is your God forever," the final phrase recalls the Covenant: "You shall be my people, and I will be your God." The Psalm looks to the future, strengthening the hope of the people. The name of God Ehiè asher ehiè (I am who I am / I will be who I will be) emphasises his eternal presence. Repeating this Psalm serves to recognise God's work and to guide conduct: if God has acted in this way towards Israel, the people must behave in the same way towards others, especially the excluded. The Law of Israel provided rules to protect widows, orphans, and foreigners, so that the people would be free and respectful of the freedom of others. The prophets judged fidelity to the Covenant mainly on the basis of attitude towards the poor and oppressed: the fight against idolatry, the promotion of justice and mercy, as in Hos 6:6 (I desire mercy, not sacrifice) and Mic 6:8 (Act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with God). Sirach also reminds us: 'The tears of the widow flow down the face of God' (Si 35:18), emphasising that those who are close to God must feel compassion for those who suffer.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (1:26-31).

It would seem to be the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector: the world is 'turned upside down'. Those who appear wise in the eyes of men, as Paul points out, are not considered worthy before God. This does not mean that Paul despises wisdom: since the time of King Solomon, it has been a virtue sought after in prayer, and Isaiah presents it as a gift of the Spirit of God: 'The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and discernment...' The Bible distinguishes between two types of wisdom: the wisdom of men and the wisdom of God. What seems reasonable in the eyes of men may be far from God's plan, and what is wise in the eyes of God may appear foolish to men. Our logic is human, God's is the logic of love: the folly of divine love, as Paul says, surpasses all human reasoning. This is why the life and death of Christ may seem scandalous. Isaiah says it clearly: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8). This distance between human and divine thought is such that Jesus goes so far as to rebuke Peter: "Get behind me, Satan! You are not thinking according to God, but according to men" (Mt 16:23). God is the "All-Other": the hierarchy of human values is overturned before him. Often in the history of the Covenant, God chooses the least: think of David, the youngest of Jesse's sons, or the people of Israel, "the least of all" (Deut 7:7; Deut 9:6). God's choices are gratuitous, independent of human merit. True wisdom, divine wisdom, is a gift from We cannot understand God with our own strength: everything we know about Him is revealed to us by Him. Paul reminds the Corinthians that all knowledge of God is a gift: "In him you have received every spiritual blessing... you are not lacking in any spiritual gift" (1 Cor 1:4-7). The gift of knowledge of God is not a reason for pride, but for gratitude. As Jeremiah says: "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom... but of having the intelligence to know me, the Lord" (Jer 9:22-23). Paul applies these principles to the Corinthians: in the eyes of the world, they were neither wise, nor powerful, nor noble. Yet God calls them, creating his Church out of their poverty and weakness. Their 'nobility' is Baptism. Corinth becomes an example of God's surprising initiative, recreating the world according to his logic, inviting men not to boast before God, but to give him glory for his love.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:1-12a)

 I pause to reflect on the beatitude that may seem most difficult: 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted' (Mt 5:4). It is not a question of rejoicing in mourning itself, nor of considering suffering as good fortune. Jesus himself devoted much of his life to comforting, healing and encouraging people: Matthew reminds us that 'Jesus proclaimed the Good News of the Kingdom and healed every disease and infirmity among the people' (Mt 4:23). The tears Jesus speaks of are, rather, tears of repentance and tears of compassion. Think of St Peter, who wept bitterly after his denial, finding consolation in God's mercy. Or remember the vision of the prophet Ezekiel: on the last day, God "will mark with a cross on the forehead those who groan and lament over the abominations that are committed" (Ezekiel 9:4). These words of Jesus were addressed to his Jewish contemporaries, who were accustomed to the preaching of the prophets. For us, understanding them means rereading the Old Testament. As the prophet Zephaniah invites us: 'Seek the Lord, all you humble of the earth' (Zeph 2:3). And the psalm sings: “I have asked one thing of the Lord: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life” (Ps 145/146:5). These are the true “poor in spirit,” those who entrust themselves completely to God, like the tax collector in the parable: aware of their sins, they open themselves to the Lord’s salvation. Jesus assures us that those who seek God with all their heart will be heard: "Seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you" (Mt 7:7). And the prophets call those whose hearts are turned solely to God "pure". The Beatitudes, therefore, are Good News: it is not power, knowledge or wealth that leads us to the Kingdom, but gentleness, mercy and justice. As Jesus says to his disciples: " I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” (Lk 10:3). Each beatitude points to a path towards the Kingdom: each “Blessed” is an invitation, an encouragement: it is as if it were saying, “take courage, you are on the right path”. Our weaknesses become fertile ground for God’s presence: poverty of heart, tears, hunger for justice, persecution. Paul reminds us: “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1 Cor 1:31). Finally, let us remember that Jesus is the perfect model: poor in heart, gentle, merciful, compassionate, just and persecuted, always grateful to the Father. His life teaches us to look at ourselves and others through the eyes of God, and to discover the Kingdom where we least expect it.

St Augustine writes in his commentary on this beatitude: "Blessed, says the Lord, are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. He does not refer to bodily sadness, but to the sorrow of the heart for sins and the desire to convert to God" (Enarrationes in Psalmos, 30:5).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)  [25 January 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us! Today marks the end of the week of prayer for Christian unity. The word of God offers food for thought, especially  the second reading  (which recounts the situation of the community in Corinth with divisions due to the presence of various preachers).

The Gospel shows the beginning of Jesus' preaching with his disciples, who will accompany him all the way to Jerusalem.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (8:23b - 9:3)

At the time of Isaiah, the kingdom of Israel was divided into two: the North (Israel, capital Samaria) and the South (Judah, capital Jerusalem), the latter being legitimate as heir to the dynasty of David. Isaiah preaches in Jerusalem but speaks mainly of places in the North, such as Zebulun, Naphtali, Galilee and Transjordan, territories that were conquered by the Assyrian Empire between 732 and 721 BC. The prophet announces that God will transform the situation: the regions that were initially humiliated will be honoured, as a sign of liberation and rebirth. These promises also concern the south, because geographical proximity means that threats to one area weigh on the other, and because the south hopes for future reunification under its own leadership. Isaiah describes the birth of a king, associating his coming with royal coronation formulas: 'A child has been born to us, a son has been given to us' (Isaiah 9:5-6). This is the young Hezekiah, associated with the reign of his father, King Ahaz, and considered the 'prince of peace'. The prophet's certainty is based on God's faithfulness: even in trials and oppression, God will never abandon the dynasty of David. The promised victory recalls that of Gideon over the Midianites: even with few resources, faith in God leads to liberation. The final message is one of hope: do not be afraid, God does not abandon his plan of love for humanity, even in the darkest moments.

*Responsorial Psalm (26/(27)

"The Lord is my light and my salvation" is not just an individual expression: it reflects the invincible trust of the people of Israel in God, in every circumstance of life, from joys to difficulties. The psalm uses concrete images to tell the collective story of Israel, a frequent procedure in the Psalms called clothing: the people are compared to a sick person healed by God, to an innocent person unjustly condemned, to an abandoned child or to a besieged king. Behind these individual images, we recognise specific historical situations: external threats, sieges of cities and internal crises of the kingdom, such as the attack of the Amalekites in the desert, the kings of Samaria and Damascus against Ahaz, or the famous siege of Jerusalem by Sennacherib. The people can react like David, a normal and sinful man, but steadfast in his faith, or like Ahaz, who gives in to panic and loses his trust in God. In any case, the psalm shows that collective faith is nourished by trust in God and the memory of his works. Another key image is that of the Levite, servant of the Temple: just as the Levites serve God daily, so the whole people of Israel is consecrated to the service of the Lord and belongs to him. Finally, the psalm ends with a promise of hope: 'I am sure that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living'; trust is rooted in the memory of God's actions and translates into courage and active hope: 'Hope in the Lord, be strong,  strengthen your heart and hope in the Lord'. This hope is like the "memory of the future," that is, the certainty that God will intervene even in the darkest circumstances. The psalm is therefore very suitable for funeral celebrations, because it reinvigorates the faith and hope of the faithful even in times of sorrow, reminding them that God never abandons His people and always supports those who trust in Him.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (1:10-13, 17)

The port of Corinth, due to its strategic position between two seas and its lively trade, was a true crossroads of cultures, ideas and peoples. This explains why newly converted Christians reacted in different ways to the teachings of preachers: each traveller brought testimonies of the Christian faith according to his own experience, and the Corinthians were very sensitive, perhaps too sensitive, to beautiful words and persuasive arguments. In this context, divisions arose in the community: some referred to Paul, others to Apollos, others to Peter, and finally a group called themselves 'of Christ'. Paul not only condemns wrong behaviour, but sees in this phenomenon the risk of compromising the very meaning of baptism. Apollos, a Jew from Alexandria, is an emblematic example: an intellectual, well-versed in the Scriptures, eloquent and fervent, he was baptised only by John and perfected by Priscilla and Aquila in Ephesus. When he arrived in Corinth, he was very successful, but he never sought to become a personal leader and, in order not to fuel divisions, he then moved to Ephesus. This episode shows how passion and skills should not become a source of division, but should be put at the service of the community. Paul reminds the Corinthians of the truth of baptism: to be baptised means to belong to Christ, not to a human preacher. Baptism is a real and definitive union with Christ, who acts through the sacrament: as the Second Vatican Council says, 'when the priest baptises, it is Christ who baptises'. Paul also emphasises that preaching should not be based on eloquence or persuasive arguments, because the cross of Christ and love are not imposed by the force of words, but are lived and witnessed. The image of grafting clarifies this point well: what is important is the result – union with Christ – not who administered the baptism. What matters is fidelity to the message and love of Christ, not rhetorical skill or personal prestige. Ultimately, Paul's message to the Corinthians is universal and relevant: the unity of the Christian community is based on a common faith in Christ, not on leaders or human eloquence, and the true greatness of the Church lies in its spiritual cohesion, founded on baptism and belonging to Christ.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (4:12-23)

We are in chapter 4 of Matthew's Gospel. In the previous three chapters, Matthew has presented us with: first, a long genealogy that places Jesus in the history of his people, particularly in the lineage of David; then, the angel's announcement to Joseph: "Behold, the Virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel, which means God with us," a quotation from Isaiah, with the clarification that all this happened so that what the Lord had said through the prophet might be fulfilled, emphasising that the promises are finally fulfilled and the Messiah has arrived. The subsequent episodes reiterate this message of fulfilment: the visit of the Magi, the flight into Egypt, the massacre of the children of Bethlehem, the return from Egypt and the settlement in Nazareth, the preaching of John the Baptist, the baptism of Jesus and the Temptations. All these stories are full of biblical quotations and allusions. Now we are ready to listen to today's text, which is also rich in references: from the outset, Matthew quotes Isaiah to show the importance of Jesus' settlement in Capernaum. Capernaum is located in Galilee, on the shores of Lake Tiberias. Matthew specifies that it belongs to the territories of Zebulun and Naphtali: ancient names, no longer in common use, linked to Isaiah's promise that these once-humiliated lands would be illuminated by the glory of Galilee, 'the crossroads of the Gentiles' (Isaiah 8:23). The prophet continues: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light," a formula reminiscent of the sacred ritual of the coronation of a king, symbolising a new era. Matthew applies these words to the arrival of Jesus: the true King of the world has come; light has dawned on Israel and on humanity. Galilee, the crossroads of nations, becomes an open door to the world, from which the Messiah will spread salvation. Furthermore, Matthew already foreshadows future events: Jesus heads for Galilee after the arrest of John the Baptist, showing that Christ's life will be marked by persecution, but also by the final victory over evil: from every obstacle, God will bring forth good. Upon arriving in Capernaum, Matthew uses the expression "From then on," which is unique in the Gospel along with another in chapter 16, signalling a major turning point. Here it indicates the beginning of public preaching: "Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near." The other reference in chapter 16 will concern the passion and resurrection. This episode marks the transition from the time of promise to the time of fulfilment. The Kingdom is present, not only in words but in action: "Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom and healing every kind of disease and infirmity among the people." Isaiah's prophecy is fully realised: the Kingdom of God is among us. To spread this Good News, Jesus chooses witnesses, ordinary men, to join him in his mission of salvation. He calls them "fishers of men", that is, those who save from drowning, a symbol of their task of salvation. Thus the apostles become participants in the Saviour's mission.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

In the difference between common religiosity and Faith

(Mt 13:1-23)

The parables compare the lived reality and the world of the Spirit:

«And other [seeds] fell on the earth that beautiful one and bore fruit rising and growing and they bore one thirty and one sixty and one hundred» (v.8).

Palestine’ stony terrain and scorching climate did not make it easy for the workers who lived on agriculture.

The lack of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten the path, destroyed the plants.

Tiring action and few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the peasant threw grains with a wide hand, generously - and ploughed, animated by confidence in the inner life force of the seed and in the bounty of nature.

Ploughing was after sowing, to avoid that the soils turned over dried immediately under the powerful heat, and did not allow the grains to take root thanks to a minimum of moisture.

So the sower didn’t select the different types of ground prematurely.

The Seed already works: the new ‘Kingdom that Comes’ is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you do not expect.

According to the ancient religious mentality it seems a madness, but the divine Farmer does not choose the type of "land", nor discriminates on the basis of the percentage of production - although it would seem easy to predict.

The Sower even accepts that his ‘grain’ fallen on the «beautiful» [v.8 Greek text] ground, fruits differently: one hundred, sixty, thirty for one.

The term «beautiful» (in the Eastern sense) means the full and fruitful land [the soul and work of the most intimate, even anonymous ones].

The Lord means that a wise commitment to evangelization cannot be measured with fussiness.

His Word remains as a Beginning thrown into the human heart by the One who is neither stingy nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

In this way, the Church, his new People, is a small alternative world to both the Empire and selective religions.

The new Rabbi did not intend to carve out better disciples than others - isolated from the reality of the human family.

He was proposing a new lifestyle, cohabiting.

In short, God doesn’t force the growth of the ‘seed’ in each of us, in an abstract way; He waits patiently.

Even accepts that it is born badly or that it does not arise at all. He knows where to go.

Since overflowingly spreads on all kinds of hearts (even on asphalt), He foresees already that will be accused of being unwise.

But He doesn’t worry about the quantity, nor about the immediate outward fruits of His ‘grain’.

He doesn’t care that the work is "effective in departure"!

Such is the amiable, humanizing and divine (parental) Tolerance that saves. Loveableness that does not kidnap us every moment, to plan.

Rather, all this is to make us understand that He is not a calculating and miserly God, external, tight and biased; but a munificent and conciliatory Father.

Lord of the Kingdom who does not wait first for our little ‘perfections’.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasize that any lack of result is not to be attributed to the lack of vitality of the Seed, nor to the divine Work, but to man’s freedom; to his condition of limit or incoherence.

Unfortunately, from the earliest generations of believers, the positive Call of Jesus has been reinterpreted somewhat backwards: with moralistic and individualistic overtones (vv.10-20) that have undermined its genuineness.

In this way, the initial proposal of personal Faith became contaminated with the customary purist and fall-back [guilt-ridden] outlook typical of the surrounding philosophies and religions, as well as common thought.

Certain configurations of ecclesial order subsequently normalized the same exceptional power of the Message; so unprecedented. In particular, the new sense of adequacy, confidence and self-esteem that the Son of God intended to communicate to His friends, and to the world of the least.

[Wednesday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 28, 2026]

A new God: perhaps a deluded one?

(Mk 4:1-20)

In a world that has lost its references but is perhaps trying to create more authentic and profound ones, the mission of maternity and paternity of those with experience is not only a material support: it extends to the more ancient discernment of the things of the soul.

The stony terrain and scorching climate of Palestine did not make life easy for those who lived from farming.

The scarcity of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten the journey destroyed the plants.

Tiring action and few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the farmer sowed the seed generously - and ploughed, animated by faith in the seed's inner life force and in the munificence of nature.

Ploughing was after sowing, to prevent the turned clods of soil from immediately drying out under the powerful heat and not allowing the seed to take root, thanks to a minimum of moisture.

Thus the sower did not select the different types of soil beforehand.

The parables compare the lived reality and the world of the Spirit.

The seed already works: the new 'coming kingdom' is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you do not expect it.

To a respectable mindset this sounds like madness, but the divine Farmer does not choose the type of 'soil', nor does he discriminate on the basis of the percentage of production [which would seem easy to predict].

The Sower even accepts that his 'grain' fallen on the 'good' (v.8 Greek text) i.e. full and fruitful soil [of his disciples and not] will bear fruit differently: "and they brought one thirty and one sixty and one hundred".

Jesus means that the work of evangelisation cannot be measured with fussiness.

His Word remains as the Beginning thrown into the human heart by the One who is not stingy, nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

His Church is a small world alternative to both empire and selective religions: it has no intention of carving out disciples who are 'better' than others and isolated from the reality of the human family.

A new way of life.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (XL): "Returning is the movement of the Tao; weakness is what the Tao adopts. The ten thousand creatures that are under the sky have life from being; being has life from non-being'.

And Master Wang Pi comments: 'Being has non-being for its utility: this is its return'. Master Ho-shang Kung adds: "The root is that towards which the Tao moves, which in its motion makes the ten thousand creatures live. If they oppose it, they perish. The Tao always makes use of softness and weakness, that is why it can last a long time".

God does not force the growth of the 'grain' in each of us, but waits patiently. He even accepts that it sprouts badly, or not at all.

Since he scatters overflowingly on all kinds of hearts [even on the asphalt] he knows that he will be accused of being careless: he is not concerned with the quantity (!), nor with the immediate outward fruits (!) of his 'seed' - he does not care that the work be 'effective from the beginning' (!).

But he cares to make us understand that he is Father, not the calculating God of the most varied beliefs: stingy, outwardly stingy, stingy, and prejudiced.

The parable of the Sower as historically narrated by Jesus (vv.1-9) denotes the total positivity of his Message: he proclaims a new world; first of all a different, tolerant and benevolent Heaven.

The principle of our life as saved is not what we do for God, but what He - Generous and Serene - does for us. Just like a condescending and longsuffering Parent, who ceaselessly offers opportunities for life.

The Kingdom of the Lord is not to be prepared and set up [according to normal preconceptions] but welcomed.

The Master intended to shift the criterion of the pious life: from personal effort to 'letting oneself be saved'.

The Redemption has roots of the unprecedented that displace propositions and expectations.

It is not founded on plotted tracks.

It emerges from a providential initiative, in gratuitous liberality; from the tolerant calm of Heaven - which allows us a process and a broad time for growth.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasise that any lack of result is not to be attributed to the Seed's lack of vitality, nor to the divine Work, but to man's freedom; to his condition of limitation or inconsistency.

Unfortunately, subsequent reflection - within a few decades of the Lord's death - began to suffer from the dominant cultural cliché [triggering a ridiculous competition with religions].

Purist expectations on the side have gradually eroded both the sense of the proclamation of the near and superabundant Kingdom and the nature of the Gift, as well as the transparency of its submissive availability to all. 

The Son exclusively proclaimed the longsuffering of the Father: Subject, Motive and Engine of our ability to accept the Vocation, and face the personal journey.

In later reworking, the original parables became allegories, overflowing with symbols with a definite moralistic meaning.

Allegories are generally trivial narratives, veined with impersonal and primal considerations [here, on the "quality of the soil"].

This passage testifies to the difficulty of understanding the Son of God's astounding original call.

He intended to propose a path of Faith to all, precisely to supplant the anxious weight of the oppressive archetype of the various doctrines and behavioural casuistry.

The ethicist yoke does not start from Love: it presupposes stinginess, inadequacy, and shame everywhere; even in the spiritual life [shrunken, perpetually in the balance, always and everywhere insufficient].

The protagonist of the passage (from v.15) is no longer God and His munificent gesture [who spares no expense in sowing His Seed in scattering], but the type of earth: the apostle himself - who would thus become the subject of the spiritual journey.

Disaster.

Guilty always (vv.15-19): you have not watched over the one who snatches the Seed; you have had only initial fervour, you have no root in you, and you are inconstant; and if worried, seduced, or covetous, you will be unfruitful...

Finally, even if you were grounded in 'the beautiful one' (v.20) you should still be careful... because you can have different results: 'one thirty and sixty and a hundred' (v.20).

Impossible to succeed. In short, devotion and obsession seem to go hand in hand [against 'nature'].

But one enters a minefield - against the main lines of any personal inclination and talent, or genuine charisma even of the group.

It seems that it is the woman and the man [those who receive the Word] who must focus on themselves, identify their faults, and - having finally become aware of them and their clear ability - strive to 'improve', on pain of exclusion from the ranks of the 'best'.

All this would induce precisely the most motivated or euphoric people to depersonalise the very character of the Calling, to deny their intimate life, to a crazy expenditure of energy.

Having erased trust in the tide of the Coming Seed - that is, having lost the propulsive dynamism of ordinary existence and its opportunities for life - each one would always find before him those imperfections that then stand in the way.

In fact, those who are unaware of man's diverse and very normal energies [all malleable and potentially preparatory to developments; to be perceived in the round, assumed and invested in] neglect their own essence and turn into those deadly alcoves (of themselves and others) that they proclaim they would never want to be.

As a result of extrinsic or recondite efforts, it is precisely the one-sided 'phenomena', and the sterilised, that end up losing their way to the astonishment of God that displaces.

This from the valorisation of opposites.

Moreover, more than spontaneous souls, precisely such firsts in the class put their real soul inclination in the balance - perhaps mistaking character nature for ballast.

The (historical) result: here we are all ready to attack, each other. It is the picture of today's lacerations; of the usual Guelphs versus Ghibellines.

This is due to the fact that we have gone from the fascinating proposal of Faith, to the fatigue of religious [and moralising] retreat to the 'terrain'.

Land paradoxically increasingly superficial, insubstantial, stony, stifled, unintegrated - one-way and outward!

Parables, and the mystery of blindness: Narration and transmutation

Being lost, for transformation

(Mk 4:10-12.25; cf. Mt 13:10-17; Lk 8:9-10.18)

St Paul expresses the sense of the "mystery of blindness" that contrasts him on his journey with the famous expression "thorn in the flesh": wherever he went, enemies were already ready; and unexpected disagreements.

So it is with us too: fateful events, catastrophes, emergencies, disintegration of the old reassuring certainties - all external and swampy; until recently assessed with a sense of permanence.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings were the best ways to reactivate ourselves, and introduce the energies of renewed Life.

These are those resources or situations that we might never have imagined as allies to our own and others' fulfilment.

Erich Fromm says:

"To live is to be born at every moment. Death occurs when one ceases to be born. Birth is therefore not an act; it is an uninterrupted process. The purpose of life is to be fully born, but the tragedy is that most of us die before we are truly born'.

Indeed, in the climate of turmoil or absurd divergence [that compels us to regenerate] the most neglected intimate virtues sometimes emerge. 

New energies - seeking space - and external powers. Both malleable; unusual, unimaginable, heterodox.

But they find the solutions, the true way out of our problems; the way to a future that is not a mere rearrangement of the previous situation, or of how we imagined 'should have been and done'.

Once a cycle is over, we begin a new phase; perhaps with greater rectitude and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, close to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is acutely generated precisely by detachments.

They bring us into dynamic dialogue with the eternal reservoirs of transmuting forces that inhabit us, and belong to us most.

Primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us such a path 'fishes' the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

In this way, the Lord transmits and opens his proposal using 'images'.

Arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, of culture, of procedures, of what is common.

For a knowledge of oneself and the world that goes beyond that of history and the chronicle; for the active awareness of other contents.

Until labour and chaos itself guide the soul and force it to another beginning, to a different gaze (all shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of a cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, of a narrative exploration - one that does not turn people away from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.

New interpretation of the different Grounds

Evolution of the Alliance in times of crisis: usual flaws, different harmonizations

(Mt 13:18-23)

God is munificent, especially in the age of rebirth from crisis: also a time of generous sowing by the Father.

He remains Farmer of his seedlings - more adventurous and less respectable ones than traditionalist, or fashionable.

Obviously, the Word of the Master and Lord warns against anything that might prevent a new Genesis - first of all, that we often wait to mechanically return to the roles and the old system of things; to the habituated, outward-looking, dirigiste model.

We are perhaps still too tied to cravings and previous economic levels (v.22) overwhelmed by things... not accepting the emergence of opposites that we had never experienced or planned for (v.19).

We still think we can go back to “everything as before”; to the superficiality of the society of the look not rooted in conviction; of the immediately enthusiastic exteriority (vv.20-21) that does not move the eye.

Instead, the dissimilar tide Comes so that we learn to fix our eye within, elsewhere, and beyond - to focus on our own and others' 'unique figure' in the conviviality of differences.

It is likely that the knowledge or way of life that we would like to reaffirm is still tied to pleasing, old, or à la page standards - now inadequate to provide new answers to new questions.

And perhaps this has led us too much to tracing and imitating the disqualified “having-appearing”, instead of the precious being, and that character at the heart of our Call by Name.

It is not out of the question that we have allowed ourselves to become accustomed to decision-making nomenclatures or to the rushing through performance anxiety.

They disregard the «beautiful terrain» of uniqueness, of the unprecedented vocational gift [it would lead to better contact with the disregarded energies of our genuine inclination - nested among the inconsistencies].

Here we are, indeed, all caught up in the concerns of restoring “as before” or “as we should be”...

This, despite the fact that the present traumas are explicit signals to broaden the hitherto stifled consciousnesses (as in «brambles»: v.22).

Eloquent Appeals - even contemporary ones - to launch each side towards the Exodus, for the conquest of renewed freedom; territories of the soul, albeit hidden, in the core of essence.

All the imprint of an empty, formal spirituality that we drag along, still inhibits a good perception of today, and it enervates, takes away intimate strength.

It does not allow one to follow one's own impulse in harmony with the inner world - or one's own tendencies in listening to the unceasing call of the Gospels [which is still being disseminated by unaccredited prophets, to announce the truth and the creation of an alternative world].

Well, something or the whole of life may turn out to be dazed; and more than ever not going the right way and clear: not making us as special as the Sower would wish - precisely because of the stereotypes or the emotional vacuums that steal the Seed, or rather choke the plant; or because of the usual presumption that resumes to dominate immediately and thus prevents us from putting down «deep roots».

We will then have to lay aside the cerebral whirlwinds and unilateral volitional paraphernalia; leaving space and indulging to the new current of quality that is bringing us.

By surrendering to the proposals of the tide of 'coming grains' to guide us beyond the old contentions: to the natural, original energy of Providence, which knows more than we do.

To the Wind of the Spirit that deploys the grains beyond - where you do not expect - it does not matter what percentage is productive (v.23b) but our «beautiful» attunement (v.23a Greek text) that helps to bring us up to speed with the reality of farsighted blending.

They will tidy everything up, otherwise: beyond habitual mental systems - and every result will be more shrewd, in favour of the Peripheries.

Without too much disposition and calculation in the choice of ground [once pretentiously removed and sanitized upstream] we will realize that the Sower will have finally crumbled so many worldly pedestals; not to humiliate anyone, but to bestow surprises of astounding fruitfulness, even for the growth of every creed (all denominations).

His is everywhere and always an exceptional generous and creative Action, put in place to regenerate and empower convictions.

Not to make us redo the usual textbook actions or clichés [and resume playing with performance, or with shackled restraints of widely approved patterns].

If we want to synchronize the same movement as the Sower, we must with Him and like Him move towards the indigence of the various terrains (existential situations).

A special narrowness - even more acute in times of global emergency - that forces one to 'move', to become itinerant, to disseminate everywhere.

And not only collecting the «hundred for one» (v.23) in the usual protected 'centre'.

"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Mk 13: 31). Let us pause a moment to reflect on this prophecy of Christ.

The expression "Heaven and earth" recurs frequently in the Bible in reference to the whole universe, the entire cosmos. Jesus declares that all this is destined to "pass away"; not only the earth but also Heaven, which here is meant in a purely cosmic sense and not as synonymous with God. Sacred Scripture knows no ambiguity: all Creation is marked by finitude, including the elements divinized by ancient mythologies; there is no confusion between Creation and the Creator but rather a decided difference. With this clear distinction Jesus says that his words "will not pass away", that is to say they are part of God and therefore eternal. Even if they were spoken in the concreteness of his earthly existence, they are prophetic words par excellence, as Jesus affirms elsewhere, addressing the heavenly Father: "I have given them the words which you gave me, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me" (Jn 17: 8). In a well-known parable Christ compares himself to the sower and explains that the seed is the word (cf. Mk 4: 14); those who hear it, accept it and bear fruit (cf. Mk 4: 20) take part in the Kingdom of God, that is, they live under his lordship. They remain in the world, but are no longer of the world. They bear within them a seed of eternity a principle of transformation that is already manifest now in a good life, enlivened by charity, and that in the end will produce the resurrection of the flesh. This is the power of Christ's word.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 15 November 2009]

5. "Behold, the sower went out to sow" (Mt 13:3).

The Incarnation of the Word is the greatest and truest "sowing" of the Father. At the end of time the reaping will take place: man will then be subjected to God's judgement. Having received much, he will be asked to account for much.

Man is responsible not only for himself, but also for other creatures. He is so in a global sense: their fate is linked to him in time and beyond time. If he obeys the Creator's design and conforms to it, he leads the whole of creation into the realm of freedom, just as he dragged it with him into the realm of corruption because of original disobedience. This is what St Paul intended to tell us today in the Second Reading.

A mysterious speech, his, but a fascinating one. By accepting Christ, humanity is able to inject a flow of new life into creation. Without Christ, the cosmos itself pays the consequences of human refusal to freely adhere to the plan of divine salvation. For the hope of us and of all creatures, Christ has sown in the human heart a germ of new and immortal life. A seed of salvation that gives creation a new orientation: the glory of the Kingdom of God.

[Pope John Paul II, homily at S. Stefano di Cadore, 11 July 1993]

When Jesus spoke, he used simple words and he also used images which were examples taken from daily life, in order to be easily understood by all. This is why they listened to him willingly and appreciated his message which directly touched their heart. And it was not that complicated language which was difficult to understand, as that used by the Doctors of the Law of that time, which was not easily understood, was very rigid and distanced people. And with this language Jesus made the mystery of the Kingdom of God understood; it was not complicated theology. And one example is that of today’s Gospel passage: the parable of the sower (cf. Mt 13:1-23).

The sower is Jesus. With this image, we can see that he presents himself as one who does not impose himself, but rather offers himself. He does not attract us by conquering us, but by donating himself: he casts seeds. With patience and generosity, he spreads his Word, which is not a cage or a trap, but a seed which can bear fruit. And how can it bear fruit? If we welcome it.

Therefore, the parable concerns us especially. In fact, it speaks more of the soil than of the sower. Jesus carries out, so to speak, a “spiritual X-ray” of our heart, which is the soil on which the seed of the Word falls. Our heart, like the soil, may be good and then the Word bears fruit — and a great deal — but it can also be hard and impermeable. This happens when we hear the Word but it bounces off of us, just as on a street: it does not enter.

Between the good soil and the street; the asphalt — if we throw a seed on the “sanpietrini” (cobblestones), nothing grows — there are however, two intermediate types of soil which, in different amounts, we can have within us. The first, Jesus says, is rocky. Let us try to imagine it: rocky ground is a terrain that “does not have much soil” (cf. Mt 13:5), so the seed sprouts but is unable to put down deep roots. This is how the superficial heart is: it welcomes the Lord, wants to pray, love and bear witness, but does not persevere; it becomes tired and never “takes off”. It is a heart without depth, where the rocks of laziness prevail over the good soil, where love is fickle and fleeting. But whoever welcomes the Lord only when they want to does not bear fruit.

Then, there is the last ground, the thorny one, filled with briars which choke the good plants. What do these thorns represent? “The cares of the world and the delight in riches” (v. 22), as Jesus says explicitly. The thorns are the vices which come to blows with God, which choke his presence: above all these are the idols of worldly wealth, living avidly, for oneself, for possessions and for power. If we cultivate these thorns, we choke God’s growth within us. Each of us can recognize his or her big or small thorns, the vices that inhabit the heart, those more or less deeply rooted briars that God does not like and that prevent us from having a clean heart. It is necessary to tear them out, otherwise the Word cannot bear fruit, the seed will not grow.

Dear brothers and sisters, Jesus invites us today to look inside ourselves: to give thanks for our good soil and to tend the soil that is not yet good. Let us ask ourselves if our heart is open to welcome the seed of the Word of God with faith. Let us ask ourselves if our rocks of laziness are still numerous and large; let us identify our thorns of vice and call them by name. Let us find the courage to reclaim the soil, to effect a nice conversion of our heart, bringing to the Lord in Confession and in prayer our rocks and our thorns. In doing this, Jesus, the Good Sower will be glad to carry out an additional task: purify our hearts by removing the rocks and the thorns which choke his Word.

May the Mother of God, whom we remember today with the title of Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel, unparalleled in welcoming the Word of God and putting it into practice (cf. Lk 8:21), help us to purify our hearts and welcome the Lord’s presence there.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 July 2017]

The Lord wants new people, who listen

(Mc 3,31-35)

In the life of those who are challenged by the relationship of Faith, to become blood relatives of the Father (according to the Spirit) is fundamental Perceive [in profound sense of Listening - not so much materially ‘seeing’].

It’s not worth the «staying outside», or wanting to ‘speak’ directly, to ‘convince’ the Lord (vv.31-32).

It is necessary to intuit and grasp: a path to encounter one’s own intimate layers of being, the truth of inclinations, and of life.

It’s decisive to welcome a satiating Word, which becomes language and culture, which has creative power: given to the ears and discovered inside. Captured in personal history and reality, and transmitted again.

To depart from this founding Core and Eros means detaching from oneself, dispersing oneself in rivulets that do not belong to us, failing into the void [’emptiness’ not understood as a deep energetic state, which prepares new developments].

Paradoxically, both our Freedom and the Salvation of the world are the result of an Obedience - but not external, or others.

It is rather tuning in to the part of the Logos within us that is blooming; really "perfect". No conditioning model.

No a priori correction, nor forcing according to prejudice: rather, an eternal Metamorphosis - accompanied by the Verbum Domini, which mysteriously guides Exodus into Exodus.

No culturally configured expectation would lead to full communion with the great divine spark and fullness in each and every one.

Realisation of the Kingdom and every day - even outside of time.

To know Christ closely it’s not enough to look at him and be taken by sympathy, cultural ties, or religious emotion.

It is the Listening that connects and establishes intimate constraints which do not extinguish - a friendship of engaging harmony with the Master.

Around Jesus the Word of God creates a new Family, with bonds of spiritual kinship closer than what the clan attachment offered.

The Lord wants other people, born precisely from Perception-forebonding.

The union is no longer reserved and exclusive; it becomes accessible to anyone - in any condition - even if he/her were "blind" outside, unable to see what is at hand.

Each one is Church, the Father's House, and thus can realize God's Dream of living with men and walking beside them.

He dwells among us and in us. In his Word, without more ‘distances’.

In this way, all our actions must aim for this purpose: to form the Temple of God, his lineage, the Body of the living Christ.

To achieve this complete goal, essential means is to host the Vocation that transforms us, a much more permanent, sensitive and energetic foundation of any feeling, connection, or emotion.

Indispensable is not an (initial) experience of enthusiasm, but the custody of the Call that interprets life and becomes mentality, dynamism inside that leads [and flows into suburban paths].

There is yet other Temple to be built.

[Tuesday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 27, 2026]