32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [8 November 2026]

*First Reading from the Book of Wisdom (6:12–16) 

The Book of Wisdom presents Wisdom not merely as a quality of the intellect, but as a radiant presence that offers itself to humankind and leads it to the truth. It is not enough simply to be intelligent or to accumulate knowledge: one must have a heart willing to seek, to listen and to allow oneself to be transformed. Today’s reading is divided into three sections: Wisdom is luminous and never sets (v. 12), and so it allows itself to be contemplated by those who love it. Wisdom takes the initiative (vv. 13–14) and goes out to meet those who desire her, making herself known to those who seek her. Wisdom, in turn, seeks out humankind (vv. 15–16) and reaches those who rise early to seek her, meeting them with kindness. It is important to note this reciprocity: man seeks Wisdom, and Wisdom, in a sense, seeks man. The spiritual quest is not merely a human endeavour but also a response to a call that precedes it. Wisdom is light that enables one to see things as they are and thus to understand their meaning. Even if one possesses a great deal of information, one may still not know which direction to give to one’s life; one may know the means, but be unaware of the end; one may be skilled in action, but ill-equipped to discern what is truly good. Wisdom, on the other hand, is ‘unfailing’: it does not run out, does not lose its value, and is not rendered obsolete by passing fashions. In the context of the book, written within a Hellenistic Jewish milieu, probably in Alexandria in Egypt between the 1st century BC and the beginning of the 1st century AD, Wisdom is God’s gift that guides humankind in righteousness and faithfulness. It is not knowledge reserved for a select few initiates, but a light capable of providing practical guidance for life because True wisdom does not consist in knowing everything, but in seeing life in the light of God. Those who love the truth are willing to listen even to what challenges their own convictions, and if they seek it sincerely, they are willing to change course when they discover they were mistaken. The verb ‘to contemplate’ does not imply a hurried glance, but an attentiveness capable of pausing and receiving. Wisdom therefore requires a heart free from the presumption of already possessing all the answers. We live in a society where information is accessible at all times, but reflection is often sacrificed to speed; we know how to look for an answer on a screen, but it is harder to find the silence needed to understand whether that answer truly makes us more human. ‘Anticipating those who desire her, she appears to them first’ (v. 13): here one of the deepest insights of this text emerges. Wisdom precedes human seeking because God does not remain passively waiting for humankind to reach him through its own efforts; rather, it is his Wisdom that draws near and reveals itself to those willing to receive it—even though the divine initiative does not eliminate human freedom, but rather stirs it to life and sustains it. It is a fundamental principle of the spiritual life: even before a person seeks God, God has already opened a path for them to encounter him. This perspective frees us from two opposing errors: the presumption of being able to win God over by our own abilities, and the discouragement of those who think that God is too distant or unattainable. How, then, do we encounter Wisdom?  In prayer, in the Word of God, in discernment, in a rightly formed conscience, in listening to another person, and even in a trial endured with faith. The problem is not a lack of time, but the way in which we organise our time; and the question this raises is: what place does the search for God occupy in my daily life? Wisdom reaches us in our everyday lives, in our decisions and in our thoughts; it is not a theory separate from existence: it illuminates the way we act, love, govern and relate to others. Finally, for the Christian, Wisdom finds its fulfilment in Christ, whom Saint Paul proclaims to be ‘the power of God and the wisdom of God’ (1 Cor 1:24). In Jesus, divine Wisdom offers more than just a teaching: it draws near to humankind, shares in our human condition and shows us the way of love. We thus see a dynamic at work that runs through the whole of the spiritual life: desiring, seeking, encountering, allowing oneself to be guided. Desire opens the heart; seeking makes it persevering; the encounter enlightens it; and welcoming Wisdom transforms our daily choices. We may conclude with three simple questions: Am I truly seeking God’s Wisdom, or am I primarily seeking confirmation of my own ideas? What concrete space do I set aside each day for silence, prayer and listening? Do the decisions I make demonstrate greater wisdom—that is, greater truth, justice and love? In short: it is not the person who knows many things who is wise, but the one who learns to see their own life in the light of God.  If one lives in this way, one does not walk alone and, whilst seeking Wisdom, one realises that Wisdom itself has already come to meet one.  

*Responsorial Psalm (62/63) 

Psalm 62 in the Catholic liturgical numbering (63 in the Hebrew numbering and in many modern Bibles) is the song of a person who, even in solitude and trial, discovers that God is more necessary than life itself, for He is the source that gives meaning to life. It is therefore not merely the prayer of one in need of help, but the prayer of one who has discovered that no created reality can fully quench the thirst of the human heart. The biblical title links it to David whilst he was in the wilderness of Judah. We cannot identify the historical episode with certainty, but the image of the wilderness is fundamental to understanding its message. The desert is a real place, arid and arduous, but it also becomes a symbol of a spiritual condition: when certainties fade and one experiences the desert of the heart, one is led back to the essential questions. From this perspective, we discern four themes in the psalm: The thirst for God (vv. 2–3): the soul seeks the Lord as parched land seeks water. The soul praises him and remembers him (vv. 4–6): God’s love is worth more than life itself and becomes a source of blessing. Communion in the night (vv. 7–9): the believer remembers God even during the darkest hours and finds refuge in his presence. Trust in divine justice (vv. 10–12): evil will not have the last word, and the Lord will protect those who entrust themselves to him. The focus of the psalm is therefore not the desert, but the presence of God discovered precisely in the desert. The prayer begins with a personal declaration: ‘You are my God’. The psalmist does not speak first and foremost of what God can give him, but of who God is to him, and this reminds us that relationship comes before the request; belonging comes before need. The expression ‘from the dawn’ indicates the intensity of the search, and the believer begins the day by turning to the One who is its very foundation. May God always be the first inner reference point with which we face decisions, relationships and difficulties. A brief prayer upon waking may not necessarily change the events of the day, but it can change the way in which we experience them. ‘My soul thirsts for you; my body longs for you’ (v. 2). Thirst is one of the most powerful biblical images of the longing for God, and the psalmist does not simply say that he thinks of God, but affirms that he thirsts for him. Contemporary society offers many opportunities for immediate gratification: consumption, entertainment, visibility, virtual relationships; yet our longing can remain unfulfilled even when we have many things. Not every desire is a conscious thirst for God, but the deepest longings — to be loved, to find meaning, not to be alone, to hope beyond death — can become a path to recognising this thirst. Just as the earth without water cannot produce life on its own, so the believer recognises that they are not self-sufficient, and biblical prayer reminds us that recognising one’s own thirst is the beginning of wisdom. Those who believe themselves to be self-sufficient risk seeking nothing more; those who recognise their own poverty can open themselves up to relationship, to grace and to the help of others. 

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians (4:13–18)  

Paul writes to a young community, that of Thessalonica, in which some Christians had died before Christ’s glorious return.  The believers wonder what will happen to those who have died and whether they will lose their share in final salvation. The Apostle does not respond with a purely theoretical explanation of the afterlife, but proclaims the heart of the Christian faith: death does not have the final say, because Jesus died and rose again. The hope of Christians springs from Christ’s Resurrection, and Paul wishes that Christians should not be in the dark about the fate of the departed. In the Greek text, he uses the expression hoi koimōmenoi, that is, ‘those who have fallen asleep’, and the imagery of sleep is a metaphor which, in the light of the Resurrection, expresses the temporary nature of death: just as sleep awaits awakening, so the believer awaits the Resurrection. In ancient culture, death was often experienced as a definitive separation and a cause for despair. Paul does not deny the pain of separation, but he wishes to spare Christians from despair. Even today, death can be repressed, hidden away in hospitals or regarded as a failure to be avoided at all costs; or it can become a reality that paralyses those left behind. Faith does not ask us not to weep: it teaches us to weep without losing hope. Indeed, Paul does not set Christians in opposition to those who suffer, as if faith made them insensitive. Jesus himself wept at Lazarus’s tomb (John 11:35). The difference does not lie in the absence of sadness, but in the presence of a hope that transcends the pain. Hope does not simply mean a wish that things will turn out well, but a trust grounded in God’s work. A Christian may suffer deeply at the loss of a loved one. Their faith does not erase the void left by that person’s absence, but enables them to live with that void within a greater relationship: communion in Christ, which death cannot destroy. Jesus died and rose again: this is the foundation of the entire passage. The Christian faith is not based primarily on the idea that the soul is immortal, nor on a vague belief that something exists after death. Its centre is an event: God raised Jesus from the dead. The verb ‘will gather’ evokes God’s saving action: He does not abandon His children to the dispersion of death, but leads them into communion with Christ; and His resurrection is the guarantee of our hope: what God has accomplished in Him foreshadows the destiny of those who belong to Him. The fundamental question is not merely: ‘What lies beyond death?’, but rather: ‘Who awaits us beyond death?’ For the Christian, the ultimate future is neither nothingness nor an impersonal force: it is Christ, the Lord who died and rose again, who calls us into communion with himself. The Christians of Thessalonica were eagerly awaiting Christ’s return, his parousia, his glorious coming, and some feared that those who had died before that event might be at a disadvantage. Paul makes it clear that this will not be the case. The dead will not be forgotten or excluded. The destiny of Christians does not depend on whether they are alive or dead at the time of the Lord’s coming. It is important to note that Paul speaks within the context of the Christian expectation of the end times, but he does not give a precise date nor does he authorise anyone to determine when Christ’s return will take place. God does not judge human life by its success, its duration or the possibility of being present at a particular historical event. Even those who die seemingly too soon remain in the Lord’s hands. This truth is particularly comforting in the face of the death of children, young people and those who seemed to have so much left to achieve. Paul also describes the Lord’s coming using apocalyptic imagery: a solemn command, the voice of the archangel, the divine trumpet. We need not necessarily interpret these elements as a foretold account of material events. Apocalyptic language uses powerful imagery to proclaim a theological certainty: history is not abandoned to chaos; the Lord will come to fulfil his work of salvation. In the Old Testament, the trumpet was used to summon the people, announce a divine manifestation or accompany a decisive event. ‘And so we shall always be with the Lord’ (v. 17): this is the culminating phrase of the passage. All the preceding images lead to this promise. The ultimate goal of salvation is not simply to continue to exist, nor to know the secrets of the afterlife: it is to be with the Lord for ever. Eternal life is full communion with Christ, the fulfilment of the relationship begun in faith, nourished by the Word and the sacraments, and lived out in charity. And Christian hope is not merely a desire to reach a place called paradise: it is a longing to live eternally with the One we have learnt to love. ‘Therefore comfort one another with these words’ (v. 18). Paul concludes with a communal imperative: ‘comfort one another’. The hope of the resurrection is not a truth to be treasured solely as an individual: it is a gift to be shared. The Christian community is called to support those who are grieving, to accompany the dying, and to remember the departed in prayer. Christian consolation does not consist in uttering facile phrases in the face of grief, but in bearing witness to a hope that springs from Christ. When faced with someone who has lost a loved one, it is sometimes better not to seek immediate explanations; first and foremost, we must simply be there, listen, share in the silence, and pray. Hope becomes credible when it is expressed through concrete acts of closeness. 

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (25:1–3) 

This passage forms part of Jesus’ great eschatological discourse (Mt 24–25) and is one of the parables on Christian vigilance and the expectation of the Lord. Jesus invites his disciples to live not simply by waiting for the end, but by keeping their hearts ready for the encounter with him. The ten virgins are young women attending a wedding feast and, according to custom, they accompanied the bride or waited for the bridegroom to join the wedding procession and accompany him to the feast. The figure of the bridegroom evokes an important biblical symbolism: God is the Bridegroom of his people. In Hosea, God promises: ‘I will make you my bride for ever’ (2:21–22); in Isaiah: ‘As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you’ (62:5). Jesus himself presents himself as the Bridegroom (Mt 9:15). Therefore, in the parable, the bridegroom is Christ and the wedding feast represents the definitive communion with him. The Christian life is not merely a matter of observing precepts: it is a waiting for a person, Christ, who comes to meet us. Of the ten virgins, five are wise and five are foolish. The Greek text uses two very significant words: Phrónimoi (φρόνιμοι): wise, prudent, capable of discernment; mōraí (μωραί): foolish, senseless, lacking in discernment. This is not an intellectual difference, but a spiritual one. The ten virgins all share certain characteristics: they have all received the invitation to the feast; they all possess a lamp; they all go out to meet the bridegroom; they all fall asleep when the bridegroom is delayed. The difference, therefore, does not lie in the invitation received, the lamp possessed or the ability to stay awake. The difference lies in their preparation. The wise ones also bring oil with them, whilst the foolish ones take only their lamps, and here we find the first fundamental lesson: it is not enough to have a lamp; one must have oil to keep it burning. The lamp may represent the faith received, the Christian vocation, or the outwardly religious life, whilst the oil represents what nourishes faith from within: charity, perseverance, prayer, daily fidelity and a living communion with God. It is important to note that the text does not explicitly identify the oil with a single reality. Christian spiritual tradition has seen in it, above all, charity and the inner life nourished by grace. Furthermore, the bridegroom’s delay is a test of time: ‘Since the bridegroom was delayed, they all dozed off and fell asleep’. This is one of the most human expressions in the parable because even the wise virgins fall asleep, and Jesus makes no distinction between those who know no weariness and those who do. If everyone experiences human frailty, the problem is not falling asleep, but being unprepared when the moment of the encounter arrives. The bridegroom’s delay evokes the course of history, in which the Lord sometimes seems absent or distant; it is a time of trial, of perseverance, of faith that does not immediately see results. How often do we too ask ourselves: Why is God slow to intervene? Why does my prayer seem to go unheard? Why does goodness seem to be losing ground? Why does the Lord seem to remain silent? The parable teaches that God’s apparent delay must not become a reason for abandoning the faith, and that true wisdom lies in preparing oneself for even a long wait, without allowing the lamp to go out. ‘At midnight there was a cry: “Here is the bridegroom! Go out to meet him!”’ Midnight is the darkest hour of the night. Symbolically, it may represent the moment when we least expect the Lord’s arrival, and a sudden cry interrupts our sleep and confronts us all with the decisive reality: the bridegroom has arrived. It is interesting to note that the Greek text reads: “Idou ho nymphíos! (Ἰδοὺ ὁ νυμφίος!) ‘Behold, the bridegroom!’”, not ‘behold the judge’, or the master, or indeed the one who comes to call us to account. The bridegroom is coming! The coming of Christ is, first and foremost, an encounter with the One who loves us and desires to unite us to himself. However, this encounter has a decisive dimension: one cannot improvise one’s relationship with God at the last moment. Oil cannot be lent out, and when the foolish virgins plead with the wise ones, the reply may seem harsh: ‘No, lest we and you run out.’ This is not a matter of selfishness, nor is it that Jesus wishes to teach us not to share; for the meaning is spiritually much deeper. There are things we can share and things that no one can experience in our place. No one can believe in our place; love God in our place; be converted in our place; live out their own faithfulness in our place; or build a personal relationship with Christ in our place. A priest can accompany a soul, a parent can bring up a child, a friend can support another friend, but no one can take the place of the personal response that each of us must give to God. Faith can be passed on, but the personal relationship with Christ must be lived out by each individual. The foolish virgins therefore return when the door is already shut and cry out: ‘Lord, Lord, open to us!’; the bridegroom replies: ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ It is one of the most powerful expressions in the Gospel. The Greek verb is oida (οἶδα), ‘to know’. And in the Bible, ‘to know’ does not simply mean possessing information about someone, but entering into a personal relationship; it is not enough to know Jesus intellectually, to speak of Him, to carry out a ministry or to take part in celebrations. One must belong to Him, live with Him and allow oneself to be transformed by His love. Jesus had said: ‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord”, will enter the kingdom of heaven. The greatest danger is having an outward religiosity without true inner communion with Christ, and the closed door invites us to reflect on life’s ultimate encounter with God. The time of preparation belongs to this present life: ‘Keep watch, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.’ In the conclusion lies the fundamental message of the parable. The Greek verb grēgoreîte (γρηγορεῖτε) means: stay awake, keep watch, remain alert; and this Gospel-inspired vigilance is neither fear of death nor anxiety about the future, but living each day with our sights set on Christ. We do not know when he will come, but we know how we must live whilst we await him. This parable teaches us that the Christian life cannot be improvised; it is not enough to have been baptised, to know the Gospel, to belong to the Church or to carry out a ministry, for we must nurture our relationship with Christ every day. The lamp is what is visible; the oil is what nourishes it and is the hidden life. The lamp may be admired by people, but the oil is known above all – and sometimes only – by God. We must not concern ourselves merely with having a lamp to show, but with possessing a heart that burns with love for Christ. Ultimately, the parable tells us that Christian wisdom consists in living each day in such a way as to be ready to welcome the Lord. Unfortunately, the tragedy is not that the night is long, but that, whilst we wait for the Bridegroom, we may allow the oil of love to run out.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Honest administrators - at various levels - and Common Home

(Lk 16:9-15)

The opportunist who was taking advantage of the goods of the community (vv.1-8) knew how to make great speeches - perhaps instrumental - on the necessary solidarity, but he did not live concrete fraternity.

Here, then, is a catechesis of Lk on fidelity in the small and in the great: very topical teaching.

«He who faithful in a minimal thing, is faithful even in a great thing, and he who unjust in a minimal thing, is unjust even in a great thing» (Lk 16:10).

To give concrete support and to risk one’s life - putting one hand on conscience and one in wallet - is unfortunately still tiring and rare.

Well, the fairest world is laborious, «craftsmanship» work (FT n.217).

In the evangelist’s intention, the particular story alluded to in the previous vv. was to serve to concretely form his small communities on the use of material goods.

Originally all the communities arose among the destitute. Little by little they began to appear even wealthy.

The entry of the rich - initially well seen - brought many problems over time, including internal management of collective resources.

The commons sometimes became the exclusive preserve of leaders who no longer seemed to have clear ideas about the social role of money.

Obviously, to introduce this model of sharing, the choice had to start from closely: one could not oppress sisters and brothers of faith, and preach justice to the world.

Emancipation begins in the small of one’s family, acquaintances and friends; in the change of internal and daily relationships.

The fact is that God and Mammon give opposite orders. One distorts the other.

Basically, sooner or later even those motivated by excellent intentions can come to despise the Father, Communion, the ideals lived even in day-to-day events - and get attached to trivial shortcuts.

The official religious leaders, all congregated in the defense of the lavish gains secured by the ancient world (world supported with drawn sword) were indeed honouring the Eternal in the signs, but... they yielded to temptation.

Now devoid of both basic and detailed choices, the directors laughed behind Jesus' back, scheming secretly and in concert. Still today, unfortunately, treating Him as a naive dreamer  (vv.14-15).

Yet the Master continues to educate us, so that we too may enter into his new «proactive» economy [as the bishops of South Africa, and the recent social encyclical, would perhaps define it].

Economy of gratuitousness that does not impoverish - rather, it is for a greatest «wealth as possible» that extinguishes the «desire to dominate», but makes stand «together as human beings» (FT n.229).

Here the small one becomes relevant. This challenge is open.

To internalize and live the message:

Are you generically supportive or? fraternal in conquibus?

Have you experienced the gift that does not impoverish but enriches?

[Saturday 31st wk. in O.T.  November 7, 2026]

Honest administrators – at various levels – and our everyone’s Home

(Lk 16:9-15)

'Ultimately,' says Jesus, 'you must decide: "You cannot serve both God and mammon" (Lk 16:13). Mammon is a term of Phoenician origin that evokes economic security and success in business; we could say that wealth is the idol to which everything is sacrificed in order to achieve material success, and thus this economic success becomes a person's true god. A fundamental decision is therefore necessary" [Pope Benedict, homily in Velletri, 23 September 2007].

"Whoever is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much; and whoever is unjust in a very little thing is unjust also in much" (Lk 16:10).

The church leader who was "caught" taking advantage of the community's assets (vv. 1-8) knew how to make grand speeches - perhaps instrumental ones - about the need for solidarity, but he did not live out concrete fraternity.

Here, then, is a catechesis from Luke on faithfulness in small and great things: a very timely teaching. Even today, in fact, there is no shortage of leaders who make grand proclamations... which are widely heard, but only to give themselves an air of importance.

Providing concrete help and risking one's life - putting one hand on one's conscience and the other in one's wallet - remains, unfortunately, a difficult and rare thing.

Many find nothing better than to turn their heads away and dodge the issue, delegating blame and responsibility to 'the system', to the current crisis, etc. - not without concrete reasons or grounds.

Instead, as Pope Francis' social encyclical emphasises, a more just world is a 'laborious, artisanal' work (FT n.217).

'And I say to you, make friends for yourselves with the unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails, they may receive you into the eternal tents.

Whoever is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much; and whoever is unrighteous in a very little thing is unrighteous also in much.

If then you have not been faithful with the unjust mammon, who will entrust you with the true [wealth]?

And if you have not been faithful with the [wealth] of others, who will give you your own?" (Lk 16:9-12).

In the evangelist's intention, the particular story alluded to in the preceding verses was intended to serve as a concrete example for his small communities on the use of material goods.

After a mistake that even leaders can make, even unrighteous wealth can be put to good use for the benefit of all - to create on earth that climate of serene vitality that is indestructible, which is a trait and attribute of the divine condition.

In the authentic Church, the poor—oppressed, degraded, impoverished and made destitute by a competitive society—find esteem, hope and a will to live, with the simple help of brothers and sisters who are equally needy.

In fact, all communities originally arose among the destitute. Little by little, the wealthy also began to appear.

It seemed like a great opening to God's future; instead, as time passed, there was a growing insensitivity and closed-heartedness among the new wealthy classes and in the churches.

The entry of the rich – initially well regarded – brought many problems over time, including the internal management of collective resources.

Common goods sometimes became the exclusive preserve of leaders who seemed to no longer have clear ideas about the social role of money.

The early Christians understood that faith in the resurrection is incompatible with attachment to the ephemeral. But it was a risky condition.

In this regard, the indirect testimony of Lucian of Samosata (125-192), author of satires against superstition and credulity, which also included Christianity, is significant.

In light-hearted language, he describes in 'The Death of Peregrine' [De morte Peregrini, 13] the impact that faith had on the lives of Christians of his time, and with unconventional firmness:

'Their first lawgiver persuades them that they are all brothers to one another, and as they convert, renouncing the Greek gods, they worship that wise crucified man and live according to his laws. For this reason, they despise all possessions equally and believe them to be common, and they do not care for them when they have them. Therefore, if a shrewd impostor arose among them who knew how to manipulate them, he would immediately become rich, mocking these gullible and foolish people."

The liberation from the idols of private property that Jesus proposed stimulated even the most agile and established souls to appreciate the transformation of property in relation to the lives and possibilities of others.

Obviously, in order to introduce this model of sharing and encounter the outside world, the choice had to start close to home: one could not oppress sisters and brothers of faith and preach justice to the world.

Emancipation begins in the small sphere of one's own family, acquaintances and friends; in the small change of internal and daily relationships.

The fact is that God and money give opposite orders. One distracts the other.

So sooner or later, even those motivated by good intentions can come to despise the Father, the Communion, the ideals lived even in summary - and become attached to trivial shortcuts.

The official religious leaders, all united in defending the lavish earnings secured by the ancient world - which they (greedily) upheld with drawn swords - honoured the Eternal One in signs, but... gave in to temptation.

Now deprived of both fundamental and detailed choices, the leaders laughed behind Jesus' back, plotting secretly and in concert. Even today, unfortunately, they treat him as a naive dreamer (vv. 14-15).

Yet the Master continues to shout himself hoarse, so that we too may enter into his new 'proactive' economy [as the bishops of South Africa and the recent social encyclical might define it].

An economy of gratuitousness that does not impoverish - for the 'greatest possible wealth' that extinguishes the 'desire to dominate' but makes us 'be together as human beings' (FT n.229).

Here the small becomes significant. The challenge is open.

To internalise and live the message:

Are you generically supportive or... fraternal in conquibus?

Have you experienced the gift that does not impoverish but enriches?

In the ecclesial sphere, have you felt deprived or, on the contrary, humanised?

The Evangelist follows the parable of the dishonest steward with a short series of sayings and recommendations on the relationship we must have with money and the goods of this earth. These short sentences are an invitation to a choice that presupposes a radical decision, a constant inner tension. Life is truly always a choice: between honesty and dishonesty, between fidelity and infidelity, between selfishness and altruism, between good and evil. The conclusion of this Gospel passage is incisive and peremptory: "No servant can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other". Ultimately, Jesus says, "You cannot serve God and mammon" (Lk 16: 13). Mammon is a term of Phoenician origin that calls to mind economic security and success in business; we might say that riches are shown as the idol to which everything is sacrificed in order to attain one's own material success; hence, this economic success becomes a person's true god. As a result, it is necessary to make a fundamental decision between God and mammon, it is necessary to choose between the logic of profit as the ultimate criterion for our action, and the logic of sharing and solidarity. If the logic of profit prevails, it widens the gap between the poor and the rich, as well as increasing the ruinous exploitation of the planet. On the other hand, when the logic of sharing and solidarity prevails, it is possible to correct the course and direct it to a fair development for the common good of all. Basically, it is a matter of choosing between selfishness and love, between justice and dishonesty and ultimately, between God and Satan. If loving Christ and one's brethren is not to be considered as something incidental and superficial but, rather, the true and ultimate purpose of our whole existence, it will be necessary to know how to make basic choices, to be prepared to make radical renouncements, if necessary even to the point of martyrdom. Today, as yesterday, Christian life demands the courage to go against the tide, to love like Jesus, who even went so far as to sacrifice himself on the Cross. 

We could then say, paraphrasing one of St Augustine's thoughts, that through earthly riches we must procure for ourselves those true and eternal riches: indeed, if people exist who are prepared to resort to every type of dishonesty to assure themselves an always unpredictable material well-being, how much more concerned we Christians must be to provide for our eternal happiness with the goods of this earth (cf. Discourses, 359, 10). Now, the only way of bringing our personal talents and abilities and the riches we possess to fruition for eternity is to share them with our brethren, thereby showing that we are good stewards of what God entrusts to us. Jesus said: "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and he who is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much" (Lk 16: 10).

[Pope Benedict, homily in Velletri, 23 September 2007]

5. All the just of the earth, including those who do not know Christ and his Church, who, under the influence of grace, seek God with a sincere heart (cf. Lumen gentium, n. 16), are thus called to build the kingdom of God by working with the Lord, who is its first and decisive builder. Therefore, we must entrust ourselves to his hands, to his Word, to his guidance, like inexperienced children who find security only in the Father:  "Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child", Jesus said, "shall not enter it" (Lk 18: 17).

With this thought we must make our own the petition:  "Thy kingdom come!". A petition which has risen to heaven many times in human history like a great breath of hope:  "May the peace of your kingdom come to us", Dante exclaimed in his paraphrase of the Our Father (Purgatorio, XI, 7). A petition which turns our gaze to Christ's return and nourishes the desire for the final coming of God's kingdom. This desire however does not distract the Church from her mission in this world, but commits her to it more strongly (cf. CCC, n. 2818), in waiting to be able to cross the threshold of the kingdom, whose seed and beginning is the Church (cf. Lumen gentium, n. 5), when it comes to the world in its fullness. Then, Peter assures us in his Second Letter, "there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ" (2 Pt 1: 11).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 6 December 2000]

This, Francis emphasised, is how 'real change is made in the Church, with people who know how to fight in small and large ways'. In this regard, the Pope addressed the 'tension' that is sometimes felt 'between small and large ways', whereby some say: ' No, I don't do these small things, I was born for great things." You are wrong," and, on the contrary, those who say: "Ah, I can't do great things, I do small things." You are a coward." The small and the great, on the other hand, "go together" and "a Christian must have this charism, of the small and the great." As we read, he recalled, "on the tomb of a great saint" where it is written: "Do not be afraid to do great things and at the same time take small things into account."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha's, 10 May 2019, in L'Osservatore Romano]

Christian shrewdness: sense of duty and of the fair 'Master'

(Lk 16:1-8)

In «The death of Peregrinus» [De morte Peregrini, 13] the irreverent Lucian of Samosata, polemist of second century - expresses himself as follows towards Christians:

«Their first Legislator persuades them that they are all brothers among themselves, and, as they convert, denying the Greek Gods, they adore that “wise” Crucifix, and live according to his laws. For wich they despise all goods equally and believe them as common and do not care when they have them. Therefore if among them arose a shrewd impostor who knew how to handle them well, immediately he would become rich, mocking these gullible and silly people».

Even more so than private individuals, ecclesial society manages goods for itself that are common, sacred and not exclusive.

But a responsible, community leader [cf. v.14], is accused of taking advantage of his position as administrator of the goods of God and the church.

The Torah, the specific regulations and all the official customs of the ancient East prohibited asking for interest on supplies (or loans) of foodstuffs.

However, under the counter the landowners relied on blackmail. Withholding undue and lavish compensation, on transactions.

Then the "opportunist" puts the right evaluation into play: he recalculates and aligns accountings - renouncing the illicit income he had hoped to enjoy firsthand.

Although used to going head-on in society, the old man finally chooses not to continue stubbornly in scaming of the percentages in addition, which were not due to him.

He seizes the opportunity that presents itself on his way. This is the point that Lk emphasizes. And he promptly decides not to continue to corrupt himself and others: valid option.

He is therefore praised (v.8) because he realizes another possibility. And he does it with fair ‘cunning’, this time not random.

Spiritual Way has a raw crossroads: to ask oneself whether to start again in the style of accumulation-and-withhold, or to focus on the quality of relationships.

Excellent work of the Faith in ecclesial experience - and threshold of joy - is to transform resources into Life and Relationship.

In short, a spiritualism of sentimental character is not enough. We must heal the budgets and avoid the internal business groups [cf. v.14].

Justice and the universal destination of goods are not mere additions, the meaning of which can be blurred.

Once the truth has been restored, here is a beautiful method to «purify» even the unfair wealth: to use it for the recipients.

Despite mistakes that can be made - we may always impose on ourself a decisive turn.

In short, the fullness of the God’s Kingdom is realized through Encounter, and goods make sense as a possibility of human development (vv.9-13).

Therefore, spiritual guides must be the first witnesses of this social, humanizing and divine function.

They are called upon to dispose of common resources in a way that is neither cheerful nor carefree, but with a strong sense of responsibility - without any shadow.

[Friday 31st wk. in O.T.  November 6, 2026]

Christian shrewdness: sense of duty and of the fair 'Master'

(Lk 16:1-8)

We ask ourselves: is there another way of life, beyond the habit of asserting oneself in all circumstances? What is it that generates so much friction without rest or criterion, even in times of submission? What is the solution for building a common house? And the first concrete step for the future?

Luke speaks very clearly, chiselling a catechesis probably taken from a living experience that has marked the environment of believers.

In "The Death of Peregrinus" [De morte Peregrini, 13] the irreverent Lucian of Samosata - a polemicist of the 2nd century - expresses himself with regard to Christians as follows:

"Their first Lawgiver persuades them that they are all brothers among themselves, and as they convert, denying the Greek gods, they worship that wise Crucified One, and live according to his laws. For something they despise all goods equally and believe them to be common and do not care when they have them. Therefore if a shrewd impostor arose among them who knew how to handle them well, he would immediately become rich, mocking these gullible and foolish people".

Let us hypothesise the situation, probably referring to a veteran of the Judeo-Christian circle [considered in the Gospels to be that of the "Pharisees" returning to the assemblies of the early times] (cf. Lk 16:14).

A manager, a community leader [cf. v.14], is accused of profiting from the position of steward of God's and the church's property.

The Torah, specific regulations, and all the official customs of the ancient East forbade charging interest on supplies (or loans) of foodstuffs.

But in fact and under the table, landlords used blackmail. By withholding undue and lavish fees, on transactions.

The skimming rate depended on the ability to scrutinise needs and raise the interest rate - even on wheat, oil and staple food.

Even the church coordinator had allowed himself to be seduced by the current malpractice, for easy profit (on people's hunger).

Having turned a deaf ear for a long time, the scandal emerges (among leaders and groups bearing the Christian name!).

The leading man is cornered for a transparent accounting.

Then the 'pinched' man chooses to recalculate and align the accounts - renouncing the illicit income that he had fondly enjoyed himself.

Everything should have been put at the disposal of the faithful and the common good, without (uncontrolled - usual) scheming.

Although accustomed to going head over heels in society, the guy finally chooses not to stubbornly continue in the stubborn imbroglio of additional dues he was not entitled to.

The (God's) treasures are to be shared, without private mark-up - so he avoids grasping at straws, pirouetting, seeking the support of accomplices or gangs [cf. v.14] and groups of sharers.

He seizes the opportunity that comes his way. This is the point that Lk emphasises. And he promptly decides not to continue corrupting himself and others: a valid option.

Things are obvious and he does not advance the kind of explanations - as unfortunately happens - that chronicle and degenerate the situation.

He is therefore praised (v.8) because instead of going back to feeding himself and his tail... he notices another possibility.

There is an Elsewhere to be perceived, here; with foresighted inner tension and equitable 'shrewdness', this time not aleatory.

The Spiritual Path has a stark crossroads: to ask oneself whether to start again in the accumulation-and-retreat style, or to focus on the quality of relationships.

No more intimidation such as: "You don't know who I am"; "You don't know who and how many of us there are" - and attempts tacked on to the bottom line.

No more shenanigans to conceal and destructive subterfuges for the sake of cheerful administration: better to disfigure personally than to be an active and omerto accomplice of another 'god' (the one who gives orders opposite to the Father's advice).

The excellent work of Faith in Church experience - and the threshold of joy - is to transform resources into Life and Relationship.

This is our Guide for tomorrow and happiness, always.

Justice and the universal destination of goods are not mere additions to the devout goings-on, the meaning of which may be blurred - even where community appurtenances are the prerogative of those who have their hands and feet all over the place: cliques with good manners and bad habits.

There is another utility and functionality of the old uninhibited profits: not those of the liberal economy and private property, but of free friendship, which does not hold back - the ability to recreate balances where they are not; to cultivate equality and transparency, happiness and widespread life.

Sentimental spiritualism is not enough. Balances must be healed.Having re-established the truth, and without looking into the face of any primate, or 'fellow travellers' or pressure groups, here is a beautiful method to 'purify' even unequal wealth: use it for the recipients.

It is the only fair valuation, which annihilates malpractice and the strange competitions between dowry-less and upside-down poor who seem destined only to fry.

We are called upon to use 'our' energies and resources to expand everyone's existence, instead of continuing to peck and paw at each other to show who is in charge.

This is - despite the mistakes we may make - giving the decisive breakthrough, for a beautiful life.

In short, the fullness of the Kingdom of God is realised through encounter, and goods have meaning as a possibility for human development (cf. vv.9-13).

In the encyclical Fratelli Tutti we read in n.120:

"the Christian tradition has never recognised the right to private property as absolute or untouchable, and has emphasised the social function of any form of private property. The principle of the common use of goods created for all is the first principle of the whole social-ethical order, it is a natural right, original and overriding. All other rights to the goods necessary for the integral realisation of persons, including that of private property and any others, must therefore not stand in the way, but, on the contrary, facilitate its realisation [...] The right to private property can only be considered as a secondary natural right derived from the principle of the universal destination of created goods, and this has very concrete consequences, which must be reflected in the functioning of society. It frequently happens, however, that secondary rights are placed above primary and original rights, depriving them of practical relevance'.

This right-base is without frontiers, and the same applies to the functioning of church society - neither co-opted nor concealed.

Even more so than private individuals, it is accountable without tricks: it manages goods that are in themselves common, varied, sacred and not exclusive.

Church leaders are the first to overcome the one-sidedness of the role and resources, let alone manage them as if they were selective property or reserved clubs.

Therefore, spiritual leaders must be the first witnesses of this social, humanising and divine function.

They are called upon to dispose of the resources to be 'broken' in a way that is not cheerful and carefree, but with a strong sense of responsibility - without any shadow.

"Renzo gladly embraced this opinion; Lucia approved it; and Agnes, proud of having given it, took the poor beasts out of the room one by one, put their eight legs together as if she were making a bunch of flowers, wrapped them up and tied them with a string, and handed them into Renzo's hand; who, having given and received words of hope, went out into the garden, so as not to be seen by the boys, who ran after him, shouting: the bridegroom! the bridegroom! So, crossing the fields or, as they say there, the places, he went off down the lanes, trembling, thinking over his misfortune, and ruminating over the speech to be made to Doctor Azzecca-garbugli. I leave it to the reader to think how those poor beasts must have been travelling, so tied up and held by the legs, head downwards, in the hand of a man who, agitated by so many passions, accompanied with gestures the thoughts that passed through his mind in turmoil. Now he stretched out his arm in anger, now he raised it in despair, now he thrust it in the air, as if to threaten, and, in every way, he shook them fiercely, and made those four heads jump; which in the meantime were endeavouring to peck at each other, as happens all too often among companions in misfortune" [I Promessi Sposi, ch.3].

To internalise and live the message:

In your community, is the administration of goods public, regular and transparent or the chronic prerogative of individuals and groups without control?

Last Sunday, St Luke the Evangelist, who was more concerned than others to show Jesus' love for the poor, offered us various ideas for reflection on the danger of an excessive attachment to money, to material goods and to all that prevents us from living to the full our vocation to love God and neighbour. Today too, through a parable that inspires in us a certain surprise since it speaks of a dishonest steward who is praised (cf. Lk 16: 1-13), a close look reveals that here the Lord has reserved a serious and particularly salutary teaching for us. As always, the Lord draws inspiration from the events of daily life: he tells of a steward who is on the point of being dismissed for dishonest management of his master's affairs and who, to assure a future for himself, cunningly seeks to come to an arrangement with his master's debtors. He is undoubtedly dishonest but clever: the Gospel does not present him to us as a model to follow in his dishonesty, but rather as an example to be imitated for his farsighted guile. The short parable ends, in fact, with these words: "The master commended the dishonest steward for his prudence" (Lk 16: 8) [...]

We could then say, paraphrasing one of St Augustine's thoughts, that through earthly riches we must procure for ourselves those true and eternal riches: indeed, if people exist who are prepared to resort to every type of dishonesty to assure themselves an always unpredictable material well-being, how much more concerned we Christians must be to provide for our eternal happiness with the goods of this earth (cf. Discourses, 359, 10). Now, the only way of bringing our personal talents and abilities and the riches we possess to fruition for eternity is to share them with our brethren, thereby showing that we are good stewards of what God entrusts to us.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Velletri 23 September 2007]