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

From below, not from a summit

(Mk 4: 26-34)

Here we are introduced to a different mentality, to a new Family, to another Kingdom, not very "elevated"; indeed, completely reversed. Different from that expected on a mighty mountain (Ez 17:22).

It will not be portrayed by the majesty of the cedar of Lebanon [which once covered the mountain slopes of the Near East] but by a simple shrub in the kitchen garden (Mk 4:32a). 

And the very origins of this new reality will not come from the top of a lofty stem, but from a small seed, simply planted on the ground.

Little grain like the others. Nothing remarkable in itself. Which develops horizontally, rather (v.32b).

How much gas must be given to accelerate the spread of the Kingdom?

According to Jesus, we must wait for everyone to meet himself, without neuroses.

A proposal that knows no borders: it’s aimed at everyone. It is enough to let the grain do its normal things - thus integrating the energies; giving space, even giving way.

The Seed grows on its own, intertwined with the soil and climate, yet according to a deep individual character.

He escapes cerebral explanations: «How, it itself does not know» (v.27).

After sowing, the author of the gesture resumes normal life.

Letting it go, the little hidden grain walks its way, to the end.

This is the evolutionary factor.

No farmer tramples on his field, nor investigates what happens (bothering the seedlings): development, growth and maturation are in themselves guaranteed.

Anyone who wants to enter would disturb the sprouts.

Whoever dug to control the evolution of little bud that is intertwining its roots with the ground, would ruin everything.

Our sacred identity is inextricably linked to personal singularity: it entangles with an unrepeatable sensitivity and vicissitude.

It’s the darkness, the silence, the waiting, that make tender shoots sprout, in their uniqueness and authenticity.

They would only be harmed by the one who wanted to interfere, modifying, overlapping other patterns and trends - never conforming to the realities in spontaneous singular development.

Beware of the hastiness of those who immediately want a result other than to be ourselves in relation to the innate essence and personal mission, which emanate from the hidden Source.

Time of love is not immediate: it takes place along a path, whose periods cannot be marked by any hasty plan - only irritating - if not by the Spirit, so that we can manifest the intrinsic unprecedented.

No one can bother such exceptional wealth, which arises and develops «automatically» (v.28), so that we are enabled to give birth to the inner world, the quintessence, the Jesus who hatches in heart; not others.

«Laying hold of the scythe» (v.29) means that at this point the soul is awakened for the Kingdom, ready to ‘give life’ to itself and to brethren, overflowing its wholeness to others, even distant or wandering like birds (v.32).

Together, a Church that - without thinking too much about "how it should be" - convinces all those in need of shelter from the "heat".

And Seed can be transmitted anywhere by the same «volatiles» that settle there even just enough for each one to take flight again.

‘Parables of the kingdom’ in Mt 13 and here in Mk 4 do not narrate a solemn, epochal, majestic reality that stubborns and imposes itself.

Rather, the new kingdom will be comparable to a common shrub, which grows modestly - silent, in the home garden (v.32).

As if to say: we evolve into tiny signs - nothing extraordinary - but we are people, not facsimiles.

Thus we announce Paradise.

[Friday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 30, 2026]

From below, not from a summit

(Mk 4: 26-34)

Here we are introduced to a different mentality, to a new Family, to another Kingdom, not very "elevated"; indeed, completely reversed. Different from that expected on a mighty mountain (Ez 17:22).

It will not be portrayed by the majesty of the cedar of Lebanon [which once covered the mountain slopes of the Near East] but by a simple shrub in the kitchen garden (Mk 4:32a). 

And the very origins of this new reality will not come from the top of a lofty stem, but from a small seed, simply planted on the ground.

Little grain like the others. Nothing remarkable in itself. Which develops horizontally, rather (v.32b).

How much gas must be given to accelerate the spread of the Kingdom? According to Jesus, one must wait for each one to meet himself, without neurosis.

The Kingdom of God is the sphere in which He reigns: the alternative society that believers inaugurate here, not looking nose-up at the afterlife.

The new reality will transcend time, because it is characterised by love for all: it will transcend the chronicle and even history.

This is also why the Gospels do not borrow images mediated by a particular cult and the sacred.

To make it clear that the Churches are not even limited to the earthly spatial-temporal dimension, the Master pretends not to know that - even at a slow pace - after sowing, the farmer cleans the field, protects the scattered seed, irrigates.

It is not amnesia his, but a special emphasis on what counts and distinguishes the soul's affair, contended between religiosity and Faith.

The image is simple, paradoxically mediated by the culture of the fields - to explain the rhythm of life in the Spirit.

It will sprout from the soil, sprout and blossom on a foundation that is not shaky, a genuine foundation without vocational dissent, far from external prejudices - which we detest underneath.

Then, on the horizon of every stretch of the journey there is always a new plant, another genesis, a different flowering in the time of the seasons, a different effervescence to be introduced into the already capitalised arrangement.

In commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (ix), Master Wang Pi writes: "The four seasons succeed one another. When their work is done, they pass away'.

A proposal that knows no borders, it appeals to all. Just let the seed do its normal thing - thus integrating energies; giving space, and even yielding.

[This would ensure the continued attraction and maturation of people and communities].

It is not an esoteric ideal, measured on people set apart, exceptionally gifted, particular, and titled: it is for the "ordinary" man (v.26) - but not scatter-brained, and who at the moment when he has to activate himself casts aside, that is, destined for all mankind.

Then he waits, and it is here that he lays down voluntarism and opens the door to the dreaming side - no longer trying to correct spontaneous processes and set things right according to his head.

In fact, in vv. 26-29, the work of the farmer is reduced to: sowing the seed and putting his hand to the sickle [in the ancient world, not the time of verification and reckoning, but the turning point of the feast that made everyone feel fulfilled, and everyone rejoice].

The focus of life in the Spirit escapes the person's stubbornly active work.

The seed-Word-event is planted underground, stands in the dark, rots and takes root, without anyone being able to accelerate its development, or later pull up the shrub to make it stand out.

As the Tao (ix) says: 'He who fills up what he possesses, had better desist' - and even 'when the work is done, to withdraw is the Way of Heaven'.

Jesus does not say that God's Blessing can possibly be thrown into a narrow field, as a careful miser would do: the Message of Salvation must be radiated unsparingly.

His Word opens the brain and limits sectarian thoughts, inviting one to overlook any temptation to exclusivism and define boundaries. Why?

The Seed has a vitality of its own, which does not depend on the outside. An ivy climbs, an oak tree takes root; an undergrowth flower knows how to stay in the shade, a sunflower soars; so on.

The Grain is even capable of self-healing - thus leading to a process of more solid self-healing.

This Grain of the Word (in us: the personal Calling) possesses a silent power, a hidden, yet irresistible direction and strength - not dependent on emotional swings or advantageous situations.

Easily it can be trampled upon, but the vocation recoils.

The more you stifle it, the more it re-enters with renewed energy.

We cannot deny our inclination, except by strengthening it - or by creating and accentuating discomforts on an identity [not character] basis, i.e. not our own.

One Mission is not worth the other.

The Seed grows on its own, intertwined with the soil and the climate, yet according to deep individual character.

It defies cerebral explanation: 'How, he himself does not know' (v.27).

After the sowing season, it is useless - indeed, harmful - to attempt to drug the path of growth.

Nothing but a rhythm of spontaneous development can properly direct existence.

In fact, the doer resumes normal life.

Left to its own devices, the little hidden grain goes its own way, all the way down.

This is the evolutionary factor.

No farmer tramples on his field, nor does he investigate what is going on, importuning: development, growth and ripening are guaranteed for himself.

He who would enter would disturb the shoots.

Whoever would dig to check the grain that is intertwining its roots with the soil would ruin everything.Our sacred identity is inextricably bound up with personal singularity: it is entangled with an unrepeatable sensitivity and vicissitude.

Here, becoming One with the perennial Infant Christ, we recognise Him in us - and then we bear fruit.

It is the darkness, the silence, the waiting, that make the tender shoots sprout, in their uniqueness and authenticity.

It would only damage them if one wanted to interfere, modifying, superimposing patterns and trends... never conforming to realities in spontaneous singular development.

It is the classic forcing of those who must at all costs condition us, and impose beliefs that have nothing to do with it.

The result is an abortion, caused by external influence [indeed, of nosy 'guides'] that easily stunts development.

When we put prejudices and beliefs aside and let go of the instinct that sees the divine self, faithful in growth and surprises, we will be enchanted and amazed.

We will have confirmation of what we sensed: ours - so lived, intense, fragrant - is a profound and sensitive intelligence.

The assimilation of the Word of God and the call of the creaturely vocation intertwine in time.

Beware of the precipitation of those who immediately want a 'result' that is not to be ourselves in relation to the innate quintessence and personal mission, which emanate from the hidden Source.

[The anger that is sometimes triggered also brings authenticity out into the open. So that we manifest the kernel of unrepeatable inclination].

In short, the time of love is not immediate, it unfolds along a path, whose periods cannot be marked by hasty designs or spiritual guides, only irritating - if not by the 'Spirit'.

"Holy" because by its Action it cuts off the germs of death; it helps to distinguish what is life, and wants us to manifest the inherent unseen.

"Ruah haQodesh": the only trustworthy, inherent, caring Master, endowed with an unclouded mind. From the disruptive force - which throws all organised, 'safe' and too cerebral reality into the air; therefore close to death.

The dynamism may be very slow, but no one will stop it, despite the destruction it has suffered. It will pick up again after humiliations and holes in the water.

These are lacerating moments, but they are reinterpreted by the soul on the journey as precious indications: prohibitions of access and ways out, if not precise signals.

That is why - after transmitting the Message - no running: one must have respect for space and time for growth.

If the Word of God does not intertwine its vital course with the individual subject's life story, there is a risk of anaesthetising or alienating precisely the most motivated souls - albeit unskilled in terms of cunning; weak, sensitive.

It is then useless to defuse the symptoms of malaise when someone feels held hostage - a stranger to himself.

If we are forced to remove or hide our authentic emotions from the homologising opinions of the 'best', we will vainly resemble them - dispersing the richness of our Name.

If the expert, instead of helping to broaden the panorama, were to impose no change, the person who allows himself to be plagiarised would not rediscover his own simplicity.

And life (even that spent most nobly, in the gift of self) would sooner or later become a nightmare, constantly subject to manipulation, just around the corner.

Indeed, Jesus could not stand managers who pretended to intervene with their conformism and 'proper' lifestyles.

Enough, then, of "regents" who place under an asphyxiating cloak the path that is ours by nature.

There are times when the feverish and pressing work must go into the background, so that the masterpiece we are inside can grow on its own.

Thus the fruit will surprise and exceed normal or prescribed expectations.

If the beginning is small and hidden, the inner call will go in symbiosis with that of the Word.

In this way, even the call of events and the genius of the time will be well interpreted and assimilated, within the extraordinary nature of each.

Jesus seems to be against the work of directors who control the movement and behaviour [of all others - except their own].

They must only unfold the Message, not their own opinion; then keep silent and do not meddle in the affairs of others.

Only - try to foster the assimilation of the Word, and the multifaceted pursuit of one's outspoken character.

The natural path goes and evolves in symbiosis with a process of rooting God's Proclamation in us on our ledges.

No one can disturb this exceptional richness, which is born and develops 'automatically' (v.28 Greek text) so that we are enabled to give birth to the inner world, the essence, the Jesus that broods in our hearts; not others.

Incarnation: it only continues and enriches if we do not delegate the unparalleled freedom of movement.Unparalleled breath that acts as a catalyst for exceptional, unrepeatable, singularly individual though related potentialities; to full maturity.

Life always develops in such a way that it can be difficult for us to understand - but in the experience of fullness of being and inner attunement with oneself, there is not so much to understand as to experience.

The result will be an out-scaling that realises in the round, on every side the inclination of the person.

Like a gradual unfolding that then channels itself into a particular trajectory - now made astounding also in terms of relationships: already blissful; exuberant, luxuriant.

Personal and selfless.

"Laying hold of the sickle" (v.29) means that at this point the person of Faith is awakened for the Kingdom, ready to give life to himself and his brethren. Overflowing its experience of wholeness to others, even distant or wandering like birds (v.32).

Together, a Church that - without thinking too much about 'how it should be' - convinces all those in need of shelter from arsure.

An experience that will convince them, only if as sons and brothers we have listened to that need for listening and understanding - sometimes so unexpressed.  Recharging passion, rekindling insight and life.

The Seed can be transmitted everywhere by the same "birds" (once only distant) that alight there, more or less enough for each one to take flight again and propose themselves to others - elsewhere - with interest.

The Kingdom of God is a living community, made up of believers who move and wait, transform and pull out of the field every varied, unconscious and dormant resource.

[The unexplored side - in fact - does not attract the attention of just any master. And the quality not designated from the outside is also likely to be overlooked, because it is not very magnificent (often not even explicit)].

"And he said: How shall we compare the Kingdom of God? Or in what parable shall we put it? Like a grain of mustard seed that when sown on the earth is smaller than all the seeds on earth" (Mk 4:30-31).

In short, the parables of the kingdom in Mt 13 and here in Mk 4 do not narrate a solemn, epochal, majestic, peremptory reality, which is self-evident and imposing.

Rather, the new kingdom will be likened to a common shrub, growing modestly - silently, in the kitchen garden (v.32) - among aubergines, lettuce, and cucumbers; daisies, weeds, and violets.

But for each one and without bounds.

To say: we each evolve into tiny signs - nothing extraordinary - but we are well-rounded persons, not puppets or facsimiles, nor merely extensions of the past.

We are not by character - we want to free ourselves from others' models - nor by prestige or unreachable (but trivial) excellence and showy grandiosity.

We remain nothing much, like the flowers of the undergrowth, or at most spinach; but we want to express ourselves without forcing.

We long to feel our vital energy circulating, leading out of the tedious, rambling herd.

After all, one can also love poorly - not something predictable, or someone who conditions and overpowers us.

Nightmares dissolve. This is how we proclaim Paradise.

To internalise and live the message:

What sense does the small hope of a few believers without a conspicuous, self-confident, doctrinal, and voluntarist heritage have for the social and cultural concert - today global -?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today’s liturgy presents to us two short parables of Jesus: the parable of the seed that grows of its own accord and the parable of the mustard seed (cf. Mk 4:26-34). With images taken from the farming world the Lord presents the mystery of the Word and of the Kingdom of God, and points out the reasons for our hope and our dedication.

In the first parable the focus is on the dynamism of the sowing: the seed that was scattered on the land sprouts and grows by itself, whether the peasant is awake or asleep. The man sows with the trust that his work will not be fruitless. What supports the farmer in his daily efforts is specifically trust in the power of the seed and in the goodness of the soil. This parable recalls the mysteries of the creation and of redemption, of God’s fertile work in history. It is he who is the Lord of the Kingdom, man is his humble collaborator who contemplates and rejoices in the divine creative action and patiently awaits its fruits. The final harvest makes us think of God’s conclusive intervention at the end of time, when he will fully establish his Kingdom. The present is the time of sowing, and the growth of the seed is assured by the Lord. Every Christian therefore knows well that he must do all he can, but that the final result depends on God: this awareness sustains him in his daily efforts, especially in difficult situations. St Ignatius of Loyola wrote in this regard: “Act as though everything depended on you, but in the knowledge that really everything depends on God” (cf. Pedro de Ribadeneira, Vita di S. Ignazio di Loyola, Milan, 1998).

The second parable also uses the image of the seed. Here, however, it is a specific seed, the mustard seed, considered the smallest of all seeds. Yet even though it is so tiny, it is full of life; it breaks open to give life to a sprout that can break through the ground, coming out into the sunlight and growing until it becomes “the greatest of all shrubs” (Mk 4:32): the seed’s weakness is its strength, its breaking open is its power. Thus the Kingdom of God is like this: a humanly small reality, made up of those who are poor in heart, of those who do not rely on their own power but on that of the love of God, on those who are not important in the world’s eyes; and yet it is through them that Christ’s power bursts in and transforms what is seemingly insignificant.

The image of the seed is especially dear to Jesus, because it clearly expresses the mystery of the Kingdom of God. In today’s two parables it represents “growth” and “contrast”: the growth that occurs thanks to an innate dynamism within the seed itself and the contrast that exists between the minuscule size of the seed and the greatness of what it produces.

The message is clear: even though the Kingdom of God demands our collaboration, it is first and foremost a gift of the Lord, a grace that precedes man and his works. If our own small strength, apparently powerless in the face of the world’s problems, is inserted in that of God it fears no obstacles because the Lord’s victory is guaranteed. It is the miracle of the love of God who causes every seed of good that is scattered on the ground to germinate. And the experience of this miracle of love makes us optimists, in spite of the difficulty, suffering and evil that we encounter. The seed sprouts and grows because God’s love makes it grow. May the Virgin Mary, who, like “good soil”, accepted the seed of the divine Word, strengthen within us this faith and this hope.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 17 June 2012]

1. As we said in the previous catechesis, it is not possible to understand the origin of the Church without taking into account all that Jesus preached and worked (cf. Acts 1:1). And it was precisely on this subject that he addressed his disciples and left us all a fundamental teaching in the parables about the Kingdom of God. Among these, of particular importance are those that enunciate and make us discover the character of historical and spiritual development that is proper to the Church according to the plan of its Founder himself.

2. Jesus says: "The Kingdom of God is like a man who sows a seed in the earth: sleep or wake, night or day, the seed germinates and grows; how, he himself does not know. For the earth produces spontaneously, first the stalk, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. When the fruit is ready, immediately you put your hand to the sickle, because the harvest has come" (Mk 4:26-29). So the Kingdom of God grows here on earth, in human history, by virtue of an initial sowing, that is, of a foundation, which comes from God, and of a mysterious working of God himself, which continues to cultivate the Church down the centuries. In God's work for the Kingdom, the sickle of sacrifice is also present: the development of the Kingdom is not achieved without suffering. This is the meaning of the parable in Mark's Gospel.

3. We also find the same concept in other parables, especially those gathered in Matthew's text (Mt 13:3-50).

"The kingdom of heaven," we read in this Gospel, "can be compared to a mustard seed, which a man takes and sows in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown, it is larger than all the other seeds and becomes a tree, so that the birds of heaven nestle among its branches" (Mt 13:31). This is the growth of the kingdom in the "extensive" sense.

Another parable, on the other hand, shows its growth in an "intensive" or qualitative sense, comparing it to the yeast, which a woman took and mixed with three measures of flour so that it all fermented" (Mt 13:32).

4. In the parable of the sower and the sowing, the growth of the Kingdom of God certainly appears as the fruit of the work of the sower, but it is in relation to the soil and the climatic conditions that the sowing produces harvest: "where the hundred, where the sixty, where the thirty" (Mt 13:8). The soil means the inner readiness of men. Therefore, according to Jesus, the growth of the Kingdom of God is also conditioned by man. Human free will is responsible for this growth. This is why Jesus recommends to all to pray: "Thy kingdom come" (cf. Mt 6:10; Lk 11:2): it is one of the first questions of the Pater noster.

5. One of the parables narrated by Jesus on the growth of the Kingdom of God on earth makes us discover very realistically the character of struggle that the kingdom entails, due to the presence and action of an "enemy", who "sows the weeds (or grass) in the midst of the wheat". Jesus says that when "the harvest flourished and bore fruit, behold, the weeds also appeared". The servants of the master of the field would like to pluck it, but the master does not allow them to do so, "lest . . . uproot the wheat also. Let the one and the other grow together until the harvest, and at the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, 'Harvest the darnel first and bind it in bundles to burn it; but the wheat put it in my barn' (Mt 13:24-30). This parable explains the coexistence and often the intertwining of good and evil in the world, in our lives, in the very history of the Church. Jesus teaches us to see things with Christian realism and to treat every problem with clarity of principles, but also with prudence and patience. This presupposes a transcendent vision of history, in which we know that everything belongs to God and every final outcome is the work of his Providence. However, the final fate - with an eschatological dimension - of the good and the bad is not hidden: it is symbolised by the harvesting of the wheat in the storehouse and the burning of the tares.

6. The explanation of the parable about sowing is given by Jesus himself, at the disciples' request (cf. Mt 13:36-43). In his words emerges both the temporal and eschatological dimension of the Kingdom of God.

He says to his own: "To you has been confided the mystery of the Kingdom of God" (Mk 4:11). About this mystery he instructs them and, at the same time, by his word and his work he "prepares for them a kingdom, just as the Father (Son) has prepared it for him" (cf. Lk 22:29). This preparation is continued even after his resurrection: we read in the Acts of the Apostles that "he appeared to them for forty days and spoke to them of the Kingdom of God" (cf. Acts 1:3) until the day when "he was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God (Mk 16:19). These were the last instructions and dispositions to the Apostles on what they had to do after the Ascension and Pentecost to give a concrete start to the Kingdom of God in the origin of the Church.

7. The words addressed to Peter at Caesarea Philippi are also part of the preaching about the kingdom. In fact, he says to him: "To you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 16:19), immediately after having called him a stone, on which he will build his Church, which will be invincible against "the gates of hell" (cf. Mt 16:18). It is a promise expressed then with the verb in the future tense: "I will build", because the definitive foundation of the Kingdom of God in this world was yet to be accomplished through the sacrifice of the Cross and the victory of the Resurrection. After that, Peter, with the other Apostles, will have the living consciousness of their calling to "proclaim the wonderful works of him who called them out of darkness into his admirable light" (cf. 1 Pet 2:9). At the same time, all will also have an awareness of the truth that emerges from the parable of the sower, namely that "neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but God who makes it grow", as St Paul wrote (1 Cor 3:7).

8. The author of the Book of Revelation expresses this same kingdom consciousness when he relates the song addressed to the Lamb: "You were slain and redeemed for God with your blood men of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and you made them for our God a kingdom of priests" (Rev 5:9-10). The Apostle Peter specifies that they were constituted as such "to offer sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (cf. 1 Pet 2:5). These are all expressions of the truths learnt from Jesus who, in the parables about the sower and the sowing of the seed, about the growth of the wheat and the weeds, about the mustard seed that is sown and then becomes a fairly large plant, spoke of a Kingdom of God that, under the action of the Spirit, grows in souls thanks to the life force resulting from his death and resurrection: a kingdom that grows until the time foreseen by God himself.

9. "Then shall be the end," announces St Paul, "when he (Christ) shall deliver up the kingdom to God the Father, having reduced all principality and power and might to nothing" (1 Cor 15:24). For when "all things have been subdued to him, he also, the Son, will be subdued to him who has subdued all things to him, that God may be all in all" (1 Cor 15:28).

In an admirable eschatological perspective of the Kingdom of God is inscribed the existence of the Church from the beginning to the end, and its history unfolds from the first to the last day.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 25 September 1991]

Today’s Gospel is composed of two very brief parables: that of the seed that sprouts and grows on its own, and that of the mustard seed (cf. Mk 4:26-34). Through these images taken from the rural world, Jesus presents the efficacy of the Word of God and the requirements of his Kingdom, showing the reasons for our hope and our commitment in history.

In the first parable, attention is placed on the fact that the seed scattered on the ground (v. 26) takes root and develops on its own, regardless of whether the farmer sleeps or keeps watch. He is confident in the inner power of the seed itself and in the fertility of the soil. In the language of the Gospel, the seed is the symbol of the Word of God, whose fruitfulness is recalled in this parable. As the humble seed grows in the earth, so too does the Word by the power of God work in the hearts of those who listen to it. God has entrusted his Word to our earth, that is to each one of us with our concrete humanity. We can be confident because the Word of God is a creative word, destined to become the “full grain in the ear” (v. 28). This Word, if accepted, certainly bears fruit, for God Himself makes it sprout and grow in ways that we cannot always verify or understand. (cf. v. 27). All this tells us that it is always God, it is always God who makes his Kingdom grow. That is why we fervently pray “thy Kingdom come”. It is He who makes it grow. Man is his humble collaborator, who contemplates and rejoices in divine creative action and waits patiently for its fruits.

The Word of God makes things grow, it gives life. And here, I would like to remind you once again, of the importance of having the Gospel, the Bible, close at hand. A small Gospel in your purse, in your pocket and to nourish yourselves every day with this living Word of God. Read a passage from the Gospel every day, a passage from the Bible. Please don’t ever forget this. Because this is the power that makes the life of the Kingdom of God sprout within us.

The second parable uses the image of the mustard seed. Despite being the smallest of all the seeds, it is full of life and grows until it becomes “the greatest of all shrubs” (Mk 4:32). And thus is the Kingdom of God: a humanly small and seemingly irrelevant reality. To become a part of it, one must be poor of heart; not trusting in their own abilities, but in the power of the love of God; not acting to be important in the eyes of the world, but precious in the eyes of God, who prefers the simple and the humble. When we live like this, the strength of Christ bursts through us and transforms what is small and modest into a reality that leavens the entire mass of the world and of history.

An important lesson comes to us from these two parables: God’s Kingdom requires our cooperation, but it is above all the initiative and gift of the Lord. Our weak effort, seemingly small before the complexity of the problems of the world, when integrated with God’s effort, fears no difficulty. The victory of the Lord is certain: his love will make every seed of goodness present on the ground sprout and grow. This opens us up to trust and hope, despite the tragedies, the injustices, the sufferings that we encounter. The seed of goodness and peace sprouts and develops, because the merciful love of God makes it ripen.

May the Holy Virgin, who like “fertile ground” received the seed of the divine Word, sustain us in this hope which never disappoints.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 14 June 2015]

(Mk 4: 21-25)

Mk's is a narrative and popular catechesis, which reflects the problems of a very primitive community of Faith - compared to those of the other Gospels.

His way of expressing is correlative to these unsophisticated origins.

At the time, still in Rome there was a strong debate within the churches on essential issues.

Some believers clung to the mummified mentality of the mighty Messiah, who should have descended like a bolt of lightning and remained to himself.

A glorious King, comparable to the emperor, who ensured victories for his own. Solving every problem in a disruptive and immediate way.

Those who read the Scriptures with such criteria - or even as a scarcely popular text (v.22), to be interpreted in small doses, mysterious, cerebral, moralistic;  typical - they made it difficult to internalize the meaning of the new Teaching. And to be well disposed in the real confrontation with the inevitable risks of the evangelical truth.

The Message of Christ, on the other hand, opens up to the uninterrupted apostolate; also troubled. And it must be proclaimed at the face of the world, otherwise the Spirit does not let loose within the disciple, nor does it work outside of him..

The Proclamation brings with it the awareness of having received much, and of having been introduced without conditions of perfection into the Secret of God;  therefore, with the desire that everyone be part of it.

In Mc the language of the parables and of the images that the Lord uses to make his teaching explicit convey the sense of a non-esoteric or difficult to decipher reading of the things of the Kingdom of God - always lead back into the normal elements of life.

By transmitting Christ also in the new way that the Magisterium [practical and broad] is teaching us, we open up the secrets of the Father (v.22) - no longer tied to glosses, nor bound by fashions and reworked opinions on customs, or pious advice.

Of course, those who update and remain attentive, push forward.

No one will be surprised that the tacticians, the unwilling, or the nostalgic who linger and remain entrenched in their positions [ancient or latest] end up extinguishing their impact and gradually disappearing from the scene (vv.24-25).

The «lamp» that Comes and 'orients in the darkness of the evening' is only the Word of God, which is not to be smothered with customs or à la page ideas.

In the dark it must always be on, that is, it cannot remain closed in a book (v.21).

It is a ‘lantern that lights up’ only when it is combined with life - and with a non-triumphalist reading key, nor with a fixed circuit (v.21).

If not, it remains ambivalent (vv. 23-24). We must pay close attention to the codes with which we interpret Scripture, and our own impulses or prejudices.

Often entrenched [or spineless] ideas deflect the understanding of the meaning of events, the emotions they arouse, and the very Person of the Son of God.

Hers is an ‘outSize Light’ - which break in with the inevitable risk of the evangelical fragrance.

«Measure» that has no “limit”. Disproportion own, of the Announcement.

[Thursday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 29, 2026]