The Risk of Truth

(Mk 4:21-25)

That of Mk is a narrative and popular catechesis, reflecting the problems of a very primitive community of Faith - compared to those of the other Gospels.

Its manner of expression is correlative to such unsophisticated (only practical and ordinary) origins.

Identifying Lao Tse's thought, Master Ho-shang Kung confesses: 'Since I do not see the form and appearance of the Way, I do not know by what name it is fitting to call it' (commentary on the Tao Tê Ching xxv,7-8).

At the time, there was still a strong debate within the churches in Rome on essential issues: Who is God and how to honour Him? What is the right relationship with Tradition? And between doctrine and life? How to realise oneself and love?

To be free ... must one give up everything, or change one's mind? How to face persecution? Is there room for Dreams? Who guides us? What to do with spontaneous nature? How to deal with institutions and the distant? And so on.

Some of the faithful remained attached to the mummified mentality of the mighty Messiah, who was supposed to descend like lightning and stay to himself.

A glorious king, comparable to the emperor, who would ensure victories for his people. He solved every problem in a disruptive and immediate way.

Those who read the Scriptures with such a criterion - or even as a scarcely popular text (v.22), to be interpreted in small doses, mysterious, cerebral, moralistic; typical - had difficulty internalising the sense of the new Teaching. And to be well prepared for the real confrontation with the inevitable risks of the gospel truth.

The Message of Christ, on the other hand, opens one up to an uninterrupted apostolate; even a troubled one. And it must be proclaimed in the face of the world, otherwise the Spirit will not be unleashed within the disciple, nor will it work outside him.

The proclamation brings with it an awareness of having received much, and of having been introduced unconditionally into the Secret of God; hence, with the desire for all to share in it.

In Mk, the language of the parables and images that the Lord uses to make his teaching explicit convey the sense of an interpretation that is neither esoteric nor difficult to decipher of the things of the Kingdom of God - always placed within the normal elements of life.

By transmitting Christ (also in the new way that the Magisterium is teaching us, practical and broad) we open up the secrets of the Father (v.22) - no longer bound by chicanery, or reworked opinions on customs, or pious advice.

Certainly, those who keep up to date and remain attentive, advance. No one will be surprised that the unwilling or nostalgic who linger and remain entrenched in their positions end up extinguishing their influence and gradually disappearing from the scene (vv.24-25).

The "lamp" that comes and directs in the darkness of the evening is only the Word of God, which is not to be suffocated with custom.

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

It is a lamp that only illuminates when it is united with life - and with a key that is neither triumphalist nor fixed (v.21).

Otherwise, it remains ambivalent (vv.23-24). We must be very careful about the codes with which we interpret Scripture, and our own impulses or prejudices.

Ingrained ideas often deflect our understanding of the meaning of events, the emotions they arouse, and the very Person of the Son of God.

Even today, some willing readers of the Bible remain hampered by hasty and one-sided ways of understanding, or cerebral thoughts, cultivated within clubs of supposedly chosen ones called apart.

Sometimes we remain conditioned by grand narratives (all in all conformist); by roundabout, disembodied, more or less sought-after options - even ecclesial ones. Some in the form of dynastic privileges and banal fanaticism, which threaten life in Christ with serious errors.

The Mystery of the Kingdom is not a monopoly that some narrow and demarcated caste can afford to jealously guard.

It is, on the contrary, like a Light that transcends any chosen language, overcoming hierontocracies, circles and oligarchies that would claim to hijack it - and with it hold the living Jesus hostage as well.

"Man is the being-limit that has no limit" (Fratelli Tutti n.150). Our burning desire, the founding Eros that impassions our soul, cannot be normalised, subjected to clichés.

In the itinerancy of the homo viator, the Word-Logos and the Word-event of the divine already in us becomes Clarity, the horizon of Life. It comes to illustrate, support and motivate every personalistic anthropology of the threshold and the beyond.

In short, the Principle that breaks through and calls is like an impulse beyond measure.

"And he said to them: Be careful what you listen to. By the measure with which you measure it will be measured to you, and it will be added to you. For whoever has will be given to him, and whoever does not have even what he has will be taken away from him" (vv.24-25).Disproportionality proper to the Gospel:

The Gospel cannot lose its fragrance, because the Friend penetrates our condition of finitude to make himself a virtue of ever new search.

Motive and Engine of Growth - with the inevitable risk of truth, which has no limit.

To internalise and live the message:

What is your unconditioned but luminous and growing form of active dedication?

In all churches, in cathedrals and religious houses, wherever the faithful gather to celebrate the Easter Vigil, that holiest of all nights begins with the lighting of the Paschal candle, whose light is then passed on to all who are present. One tiny flame spreads out to become many lights and fills the darkness of God’s house with its brightness. This wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in our prayer vigil tonight, reveals to us in signs more eloquent than words the mystery of our Christian faith. He, Christ, who says of himself: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), causes our lives to shine brightly, so that what we have just heard in the Gospel comes true: “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our era that brings light into this world. Again and again we experience how our striving to bring about a better and more just world hits against its limits. Innocent suffering and the ultimate fact of death awaiting every single person are an impenetrable darkness which may perhaps, through fresh experiences, be lit up for a moment, as if through a flash of lightning at night. In the end, though, a frightening darkness remains.

While all around us there may be darkness and gloom, yet we see a light: a small, tiny flame that is stronger than the seemingly powerful and invincible darkness. Christ, risen from the dead, shines in this world and he does so most brightly in those places where, in human terms, everything is sombre and hopeless. He has conquered death – he is alive – and faith in him, like a small light, cuts through all that is dark and threatening. To be sure, those who believe in Jesus do not lead lives of perpetual sunshine, as though they could be spared suffering and hardship, but there is always a bright glimmer there, lighting up the path that leads to fullness of life (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see light even amid the darkest night and they already see the dawning of a new day.

Light does not remain alone. All around, other lights are flaring up. In their gleam, space acquires contours, so that we can find our bearings. We do not live alone in this world. And it is for the important things of life that we have to rely on other people. Particularly in our faith, then, we do not stand alone, we are links in the great chain of believers. Nobody can believe unless he is supported by the faith of others, and conversely, through my faith, I help to strengthen others in their faith. We help one another to set an example, we give others a share in what is ours: our thoughts, our deeds, our affections. And we help one another to find our bearings, to work out where we stand in society.

Dear friends, the Lord says: “I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world.” It is mysterious and wonderful that Jesus applies the same predicate to himself and to all of us together, namely “light”. If we believe that he is the Son of God, who healed the sick and raised the dead, who rose from the grave himself and is truly alive, then we can understand that he is the light, the source of all the lights of this world. On the other hand, we experience more and more the failure of our efforts and our personal shortcomings, despite our good intentions. In the final analysis, the world in which we live, in spite of its technical progress, does not seem to be getting any better. There is still war and terror, hunger and disease, bitter poverty and merciless oppression. And even those figures in our history who saw themselves as “bringers of light”, but without being fired by Christ, the one true light, did not manage to create an earthly paradise, but set up dictatorships and totalitarian systems, in which even the smallest spark of true humanity is choked.

At this point we cannot remain silent about the existence of evil. We see it in so many places in this world; but we also see it – and this scares us – in our own lives. Truly, within our hearts there is a tendency towards evil, there is selfishness, envy, aggression. Perhaps with a certain self-discipline all this can to some degree be controlled. But it becomes more difficult with faults that are somewhat hidden, that can engulf us like a thick fog, such as sloth, or laziness in willing and doing good. Again and again in history, keen observers have pointed out that damage to the Church comes not from her opponents, but from uncommitted Christians. “You are the light of the world”: only Christ can say: “I am the light of the world.”  All of us can be light only if we stand within the “you” that, through the Lord, is forever becoming light.  And just as the Lord warns us that salt can become tasteless, so too he weaves a gentle warning into his saying about light.  Instead of placing the light on a lampstand, one can hide it under a bushel.  Let us ask ourselves: how often do we hide God’s light through our sloth, through our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine out through us into the world?

Dear friends, Saint Paul in many of his letters does not shrink from calling his contemporaries, members of the local communities, “saints”. Here it becomes clear that every baptized person – even before he or she can accomplish good works – is sanctified by God. In baptism the Lord, as it were, sets our life alight with what the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who watch over this light, who live by grace, are holy.

Dear friends, again and again the very notion of saints has been caricatured and distorted, as if to be holy meant to be remote from the world, naive and joyless. Often it is thought that a saint has to be someone with great ascetic and moral achievements, who might well be revered, but could never be imitated in our own lives. How false and discouraging this opinion is! There is no saint, apart from the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin, who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how often in our lives we stumble and fall, as in how often with his help we pick ourselves up again. He does not demand glittering achievements, but he wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because he is good and he wants to make you his friends. Yes, you are the light of the world because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things, but because he, Christ, is your life, our life. You are holy, we are holy, if we allow his grace to work in us.

Dear friends, this evening as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ’s saying that the city built on a hilltop cannot remain hidden. This gathering shines in more ways than one – in the glow of innumerable lights, in the radiance of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it lets itself be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax failed to nourish the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and, so to speak, emerge empty-handed at the end. Have the courage to apply your talents and gifts for God’s kingdom and to give yourselves – like candlewax – so that the Lord can light up the darkness through you. Dare to be glowing saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ beams and who thus bring light to the world. I am confident that you and many other young people here in Germany are lamps of hope that do not remain hidden. “You are the light of the world”. Where God is, there is a future! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil in Freiburg 24 September 2011]

3. "You are the light of the world...". For those who first heard Jesus, as for us, the symbol of light evokes the desire for truth and the thirst for the fullness of knowledge which are imprinted deep within every human being. 

When the light fades or vanishes altogether, we no longer see things as they really are. In the heart of the night we can feel frightened and insecure, and we impatiently await the coming of the light of dawn. Dear young people, it is up to you to be the watchmen of the morning (cf. Is 21:11-12) who announce the coming of the sun who is the Risen Christ! 

The light which Jesus speaks of in the Gospel is the light of faith, God’s free gift, which enlightens the heart and clarifies the mind. "It is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of Christ" (2 Cor 4:6). That is why the words of Jesus explaining his identity and his mission are so important: "I am the light of the world; whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (Jn 8:12). 

Our personal encounter with Christ bathes life in new light, sets us on the right path, and sends us out to be his witnesses. This new way of looking at the world and at people, which comes to us from him, leads us more deeply into the mystery of faith, which is not just a collection of theoretical assertions to be accepted and approved by the mind, but an experience to be had, a truth to be lived, the salt and light of all reality (cf. Veritatis Splendor, 88). 

In this secularized age, when many of our contemporaries think and act as if God did not exist or are attracted to irrational forms of religion, it is you, dear young people, who must show that faith is a personal decision which involves your whole life. Let the Gospel be the measure and guide of life’s decisions and plans! Then you will be missionaries in all that you do and say, and wherever you work and live you will be signs of God’s love, credible witnesses to the loving presence of Jesus Christ. Never forget: "No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a bushel" (Mt 5:15)! 

Just as salt gives flavour to food and light illumines the darkness, so too holiness gives full meaning to life and makes it reflect God’s glory. How many saints, especially young saints, can we count in the Church’s history! In their love for God their heroic virtues shone before the world, and so they became models of life which the Church has held up for imitation by all. Let us remember only a few of them: Agnes of Rome, Andrew of Phú Yên, Pedro Calungsod, Josephine Bakhita, Thérèse of Lisieux, Pier Giorgio Frassati, Marcel Callo, Francisco Castelló Aleu or again Kateri Tekakwitha, the young Iroquois called "the Lily of the Mohawks". Through the intercession of this great host of witnesses, may God make you too, dear young people, the saints of the third millennium!

[Pope John Paul II, Message for the 17th World Youth Day]

The theme of witness, understood as the founding element of the Christian's life, was at the centre of Pope Francis' reflection during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on the morning of Thursday 28 January. But what should characterise this testimony? The Pontiff took the answer directly from the Gospel of the day, quoting the passage from Mark (4:21-25) immediately following the "parable of the seed". After speaking of "the seed that succeeds in bearing fruit" and the one that, instead, falling "into bad soil cannot bear fruit", Jesus "speaks to us of the lamp" that is not placed under the bushel but above the candlestick. It - he explained - "is light and the Gospel of John tells us that the mystery of God is light and that the light came into the world and the darkness did not welcome it". A light, he added, that cannot be hidden, but serves 'to illuminate'.

Here, then, is "one of the traits of the Christian, who has received light in baptism and must give it". The Christian, said the Pope, "is a witness". And precisely the word 'witness' encapsulates 'one of the peculiarities of Christian attitudes'. Indeed: 'a Christian who bears this light, must make it seen because he is a witness'. And if a Christian "prefers not to let God's light be seen and prefers his own darkness", then "he lacks something and is not a complete Christian". A part of him is occupied, darkness 'enters his heart, because he is afraid of the light' and he prefers 'idols'. But the Christian 'is a witness', a witness 'of Jesus Christ, the light of God. And he must put that light on the candelabrum of his life".

The Gospel passage proposed by the liturgy also speaks of "the measure" and reads: "With the measure with which you measure will be measured to you; indeed, more will be given to you". This, Francis said, is "the other peculiarity, the other attitude" typical of the Christian. He referred, in fact, to magnanimity: 'another trait of the Christian is magnanimity, because he is the son of a magnanimous father, with a great soul.

Even when he says: 'Give and it will be given to you', the measure of which Jesus speaks, the Pope explained, is 'full, good, overflowing'. In the same way, 'the Christian heart is magnanimous. It is open, always'. It is not, therefore, 'a heart that closes in its own selfishness'. It is not a heart that sets limits on itself, that 'counts: up to here, up to here'. He continued: 'When you enter into this light of Jesus, when you enter into the friendship of Jesus, when you allow yourself to be guided by the Holy Spirit, the heart becomes open, magnanimous'. A particular dynamic is triggered at that point: the Christian 'does not gain: he loses'. But, in reality, the Pontiff concluded, "he loses in order to gain something else, and with this 'defeat' of interests, he gains Jesus, he gains by becoming a witness to Jesus".

To put his reflection in concrete terms, Francis turned at this point to a group of priests who were celebrating the golden jubilee of their ordination: "fifty years on the road of light and witness" and "trying to be better, trying to bring light to the candelabra"; a light that, it is the experience of all, sometimes "falls", but that it is always good to try to bring back "generously, that is, with a magnanimous heart". And in thanking the priests for all they have done "in the Church, for the Church and for Jesus", and wishing them the "great joy of having sown well, of having enlightened well and of having opened their arms to receive everyone with magnanimity", the Pope also told them: "Only God and your memory know how many people you have received with magnanimity, with the goodness of fathers, of brothers" and "to how many people whose hearts were a little dark, you have given light, the light of Jesus". Because, he concluded, pulling the strings of the argument, "in the memory of a people" remain "the seed, the light of witness, and the magnanimity of love that welcomes".

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 29/01/2016]

In the difference between common religiosity and Faith

(Mt 13:1-23)

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

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

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

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

Tiring action and few tangible results.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was proposing a new lifestyle, cohabiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A new God: perhaps a deluded one?

(Mk 4:1-20)

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

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

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

Tiring action and few tangible results.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A new way of life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is not founded on plotted tracks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Disaster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This from the valorisation of opposites.

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

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

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

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

Parables, and the mystery of blindness: Narration and transmutation

Being lost, for transformation

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

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

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

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

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

Erich Fromm says:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Jesus knows this.

New interpretation of the different Grounds

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

(Mt 13:18-23)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 15 November 2009]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 July 2017]

The Lord wants new people, who listen

(Mc 3,31-35)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is yet other Temple to be built.

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