Dear Brothers and Sisters,

On this day, marked by the austere symbol of ashes, we enter the Season of Lent, beginning a spiritual journey that prepares us for celebrating worthily the Easter Mysteries. The blessed ashes imposed upon our forehead are a sign that reminds us of our condition as creatures, that invites us to repent, and to intensify our commitment to convert, to follow the Lord ever more closely.

Lent is a journey, it means accompanying Jesus who goes up to Jerusalem, the place of the fulfilment of his mystery of Passion, death and Resurrection; it reminds us that Christian life is a “way” to take, not so much consistent with a law to observe as with the very Person of Christ, to encounter, to welcome, to follow.

Indeed, Jesus says to us: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). In other words he tells us that in order to attain, with him, the light and joy of the Resurrection, the victory of life, of love and of goodness, we too must take up our daily cross, as a beautiful passage from the Imitation of Christ urges us: “Take up your cross, therefore, and follow Jesus, and you shall enter eternal life. He himself opened the way before you in carrying his Cross (Jn 19:17), and upon it he died for you, that you too, might take up your cross and long to die upon it. If you die with him, you shall also live with him, and if you share his suffering, you shall also share his glory” (Book 2, chapter 12, n. 2).

In Holy Mass of the First Sunday of Lent we shall pray: “Father, through our observance of Lent, sign of the sacrament of our conversion, help us to understand the meaning of your Son’s death and Resurrection, and teach us to reflect it in our lives” (Opening Prayer).

This is an invocation that we address to God because we know that he alone can convert our hearts. And it is above all in the Liturgy, by participating in the holy mysteries, that we are led to make this journey with the Lord; it means learning at the school of Jesus, reviewing the events that brought salvation to us but not as a mere commemoration, a remembrance of past events. In the liturgical actions Christ makes himself present through the power of the Holy Spirit and these saving events become real.

There is a keyword that recurs frequently in the Liturgy to indicate this: the word “today”; and it should be understood in its original and practical, rather than metaphorical, sense. Today God reveals his law and we are granted to choose today between good and evil, between life and death (cf. Dt 30:19). Today “the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel” (Mk 1:15). Today Christ died on Calvary and rose from the dead; he ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father; today the Holy Spirit is given to us; today is a favourable time.

Taking part in the Liturgy thus means immersing our life in the mystery of Christ, in his enduring presence so as to follow a path on which we enter his death and Resurrection in order to have life. The Sundays of Lent, in this liturgical year of Cycle A in a quite particular way, introduce us to the experience of a baptismal journey, almost as if we were retracing the path of the catechumens, of those who are preparing to receive Baptism, in order to rekindle this gift within us and to ensure that our life may recover a sense of the demands and commitments of this sacrament which is at the root of our Christian life.

In the Message for this Lent I wished to recall the particular connection that binds Baptism to the Season of Lent. The Church has always associated the Easter Vigil with the celebration of Baptism, step by step. In it is brought about that great mystery through which man, dead to sin, is enabled to share in new life in the Risen Christ and receives the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead (cf. Rom 8:11).

The Readings we shall listen to on the coming Sundays and to which I ask you to pay special attention are taken up precisely by the ancient tradition which accompanied catechumens in the discovery of Baptism. These Readings are the great proclamation of what God brings about in this sacrament, a wonderful baptismal catechesis addressed to each one of us.

The First Sunday of Lent, known as the “Sunday of the Temptation” because it presents Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, invites us to renew our definitive adherence to God and, in order to remain faithful to him, to face courageously the struggle that awaits us.

Over and over again we need determination, resistance to evil, we need to follow Jesus. On this Sunday, after hearing the testimony of the godparents and catechists, the Church celebrates the election of those who are admitted to the Easter sacraments.

The Second Sunday is called “of Abraham and of the Transfiguration”. Baptism is the sacrament of faith and of divine sonship; like Abraham, Father of believers, we too are asked to set out, to depart from our land, to give up the security we have created for ourselves in order to place our trust in God; the destination is glimpsed in the Transfiguration of Christ, the beloved Son, in whom we too become “sons of God”.

On the following Sundays, Baptism is presented in images of water, light and life. The Third Sunday makes us meet the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4:5-42). Like Israel in the Exodus, in Baptism we too have received the water that saves; Jesus, as the Samaritan woman says, has living water that quenches all thirst; and this water is the Spirit himself. On this Sunday the Church celebrates the First Scrutiny of the catechumens and during the week presents to them the Creed: the profession of faith.

The Fourth Sunday makes us reflect on the experience of the “man blind from birth” (cf. Jn 9:1-41). In Baptism, we are set free from the shadow of evil and receive Christ’s light in order to live as children of light. We too must learn to see in Christ’s Face God’s presence, hence light. The Second Scrutiny on the catechumen’s journey is celebrated.

Lastly, the Fifth Sunday presents to us the raising of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45). In Baptism we passed from death to life and were enabled to please God, to make the former person die so as to live by the Spirit of the Risen One. The Third Scrutiny for the catechumens is celebrated and during the week the Lord’s Prayer is presented to them.

In the Church’s tradition, this journey we are asked to take in Lent is marked by certain practices: fasting, almsgiving and prayer. Fasting means abstinence from food but includes other forms of privation for a more modest life. However, all this is not yet the full reality of fasting: it is an outer sign of an inner reality, of our commitment, with God’s help, to abstain from evil and to live by the Gospel. Those who are unable to nourish themselves with the word of God do not fast properly.

In the Christian tradition fasting is closely linked to almsgiving. St Leo the Great taught in one of his Discourses on Lent: “All that each Christian is bound to do in every season he must now do with greater solicitude and devotion in order to fulfil the apostolic prescription of Lenten fasting consistently, not only in abstinence from food but also and above all from sin. Furthermore, with this holy fasting which is only right, no work may be more fruitfully associated than almsgiving which, under the one name of ‘mercy’, embraces many good works. The field of works of mercy is immense. It is not only the rich and the well-off who can benefit others with almsgiving, but also those of modest means and even the poor. Thus, although their futures differ, all may be the same in the soul’s sentiments of piety” (Sermon VI on Lent, 2: PL 54, 286).

St Gregory the Great recalled in his Pastoral Rule that fasting is sanctified by the virtues that go with it, especially by charity, by every act of generosity, giving to the poor and needy the equivalent of something we ourselves have given up (cf. 19, 10-11). Lent, moreover, is a privileged period for prayer. St Augustine said that fasting and almsgiving are “the two wings of prayer” which enable it to gain momentum and more easily reach even to God.

He said: “In this way our prayers, made in humility and charity, in fasting and almsgiving, in temperance and in the forgiveness of offences, giving good things and not returning those that are bad, keeping away from evil and doing good, seek peace and achieve it. On the wings of these virtues our prayers fly safely and are more easily carried to Heaven, where Christ our Peace has preceded us” (Sermon 206, 3 on Lent: PL 38, 1042).

The Church knows that because of our weakness it is difficult to create silence in order to come before God and to acquire an awareness of our condition as creatures who depend on him, as sinners in need of his love. It is for this reason that in Lent she asks us to pray more faithfully, more intensely, and to prolong our meditation on the word of God.

St John Chrysostom urged: “Embellish your house with modesty and humility with the practice of prayer. Make your dwelling place shine with the light of justice; adorn its walls with good works, like a lustre of pure gold, and replace walls and precious stones with faith and supernatural magnanimity, putting prayer above all other things, high up in the gables, to give the whole complex decorum.

“You will thus prepare a worthy dwelling place for the Lord, you will welcome him in a splendid palace. He will grant you to transform your soul into a temple of his presence” (Homily 6 on Prayer: PG 64, 466).

Dear friends, on this Lenten journey let us be careful to accept Christ’s invitation to follow him more decisively and consistently, renewing the grace and commitments of our Baptism, to cast off the former person within us and put on Christ, in order to arrive at Easter renewed and able to say, with St Paul: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20). I wish you all a good Lenten journey! Thank you!

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 9 March 2011]

"Sound the horn, proclaim a solemn fast" (Gl 2:15), says the prophet in the First Reading. Lent opens with a shrill sound, that of a horn that does not caress the ears, but proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound, meant to slow down our lives that are always running, but often do not know where. It is a call to stop - a "stop!" -, to go to the essentials, to fast from the superfluous that distracts. It is an alarm clock for the soul.

The sound of this wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord delivers through the mouth of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: 'Return to me' (v. 12). Return. If we must return, it means we have gone elsewhere. Lent is the time to retrace the course of life. Because in the journey of life, as in any journey, what really counts is not to lose sight of the destination. When on the journey what matters is looking at the landscape or stopping to eat, we do not go far. Each of us can ask ourselves: on life's journey, do I seek the course? Or am I content to live by the day, thinking only of getting well, solving a few problems and having a little fun? What is the course? Perhaps the pursuit of health, which so many today say comes first but which will pass sooner or later? Perhaps possessions and wealth? But we are not in the world for that. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the destination of our journey in the world. The course must be set on Him.

To find our course, today we are offered a sign: ashes on our heads. It is a sign that makes us think about what is in our heads. Our thoughts often chase after passing things, which come and go. The light layer of ash that we receive is to tell us, gently and truthfully: of the many things that you have on your mind, behind which you run and toil every day, nothing will remain. However much you toil, from life you will take no wealth with you. Earthly realities vanish, like dust in the wind. Goods are temporary, power passes, success fades. The culture of appearance, dominant today, which induces one to live for the things that pass, is a great deception. For it is like a blaze: once it is over, only ashes remain. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of living chasing the dust. Lent is to rediscover that we are made for the fire that always burns, not for the ashes that immediately go out; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of Heaven, not for the deception of the earth; for the freedom of children, not for the slavery of things. We can ask ourselves today: which side am I on? Do I live by fire or by ashes?

In this journey back to the essentials that is Lent, the Gospel proposes three stages, which the Lord asks us to go through without hypocrisy, without pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the only three realities that do not vanish. Prayer takes us back to God; charity to our neighbour; fasting to ourselves. God, brothers, my life: these are the realities that do not end in nothingness, in which we must invest. This is where Lent invites us to look: upwards, with prayer, which frees one from a horizontal, flat life, where one finds time for the self but forgets God. And then towards the Other, with charity, which frees from the vanity of having, from thinking that things are good if they are good for me. Finally, he invites us to look inside ourselves, with fasting, which frees us from attachments to things, from worldliness that anaesthetises the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that lasts.

Jesus said: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass in search of orientation. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be served become things to be served. Outward appearance, money, career, pastimes: if we live for them, they will become idols that use us, sirens that enchant us and then cast us adrift. Instead, if the heart attaches itself to what does not pass, we find ourselves and become free. Lent is a time of grace to free the heart from vanities. It is a time of healing from the addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what remains.

Where then to fix our gaze along the path of Lent? It is simple: on the Crucified One. Jesus on the cross is the compass of life, directing us to Heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his stripping away out of love show us the need for a simpler life, free from too much preoccupation with things. Jesus from the cross teaches us the strong courage of renunciation. Because laden with cumbersome burdens, we will never move forward. We need to free ourselves from the tentacles of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being content, from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus, who on the wood of the cross burns with love, calls us to a life on fire with Him, one that is not lost in the ashes of the world; a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as He asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads to the goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with ashes, but in the end it leads us to the fire of Easter night; to discover that, in the tomb, the flesh of Jesus does not become ashes, but rises again in glory. It also applies to us, who are dust: if with our frailties we return to the Lord, if we take the way of love, we will embrace the life that does not fade. And we shall certainly be in joy.

[Pope John Paul II, St Sabina Lenten “station” 8 March 2000]

“Blow the trumpet […] sanctify a fast” (Joel 2:15), says the prophet in the first reading. Lent opens with a piercing sound, that of a trumpet that does not please the ears, but instead proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound that seeks to slow down our life, which is so fast-paced, yet often directionless. It is a summons to stop – a “halt!” –, to focus on what is essential, to fast from the unnecessary things that distract us. It is a wake-up call for the soul.

This wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord proclaims through the lips of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: “Return to me” (v 12). To return. If we have to return, it means that we have wandered off. Lent is the time to rediscover the direction of life. Because in life’s journey, as in every journey, what really matters is not to lose sight of the goal. If what interests us as we travel, however, is looking at the scenery or stopping to eat, we will not get far. We should ask ourselves: On the journey of life, do I seek the way forward? Or am I satisfied with living in the moment and thinking only of feeling good, solving some problems and having fun? What is the path? Is it the search for health, which many today say comes first but which eventually passes? Could it be possessions and wellbeing? But we are not in the world for this. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the goal of our journey in this world. The direction must lead to him.

Today we have been offered a sign that will help us find our direction: the head marked by ash. It is a sign that causes us to consider what occupies our mind. Our thoughts often focus on transient things, which come and go. The small mark of ash, which we will receive, is a subtle yet real reminder that of the many things occupying our thoughts, that we chase after and worry about every day, nothing will remain. No matter how hard we work, we will take no wealth with us from this life. Earthly realities fade away like dust in the wind. Possessions are temporary, power passes, success wanes. The culture of appearance prevalent today, which persuades us to live for passing things, is a great deception. It is like a blaze: once ended, only ash remains. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of chasing after dust. Lent is for rediscovering that we are created for the inextinguishable flame, not for ashes that immediately disappear; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of heaven, not for earthly deceit; for the freedom of the children of God, not for slavery to things. We should ask ourselves today: Where do I stand? Do I live for fire or for ash?

On this Lenten journey, back to what is essential, the Gospel proposes three steps which the Lord invites us to undertake without hypocrisy and pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the three realities that do not fade away. Prayer reunites us to God; charity, to our neighbour; fasting, to ourselves. God, my neighbour, my life: these are the realities that do not fade away and in which we must invest. Lent, therefore, invites us to focus, first of all on the Almighty, in prayer, which frees us from that horizontal and mundane life where we find time for self but forget God. It then invites us to focus on others, with the charity that frees us from the vanity of acquiring and of thinking that things are only good if they are good for me. Finally, Lent invites us to look inside our heart, with fasting, which frees us from attachment to things and from the worldliness that numbs the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that endures.

Jesus said: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass seeking its bearings. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be used become things we serve. Outward appearance, money, a career or hobby: if we live for them, they will become idols that enslave us, sirens that charm us and then cast us adrift. Whereas if our heart is attached to what does not pass away, we rediscover ourselves and are set free. Lent is the time of grace that liberates the heart from vanity. It is a time of healing from addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what abides.

Where can we fix our gaze, then, throughout this Lenten journey? It is simple: upon the Crucified one. Jesus on the cross is life’s compass, which directs us to heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his loving self-emptying show us the necessity of a simpler life, free from anxiety about things. From the cross, Jesus teaches us the great courage involved in renunciation. We will never move forward if we are heavily weighed down. We need to free ourselves from the clutches of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being satisfied, and from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus on the wood of the cross burns with love, and calls us to a life that is passionate for him, which is not lost amid the ashes of the world; to a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as he asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads us to our goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with the ashes, but eventually leads us to the fire of Easter night; to the discovery that, in the tomb, the body of Jesus does not turn to ashes, but rises gloriously. This is true also for us, who are dust. If we, with our weaknesses, return to the Lord, if we take the path of love, then we will embrace the life that never ends. And surely we will be full of joy.

[Pope Francis, homily 6 March 2019]

And the much yeast, which impoverishes

(Mk 8:14-21)

Jesus says one thing, the apostles understand another. The «leaven of the Pharisees and that of Herod» is a theme that alludes to the ideology of domination.

The disciples were close to Christ, because he was the character of the moment.

But enraptured by cheap illusions, they no longer listened to the Master, who was pursuing them.

Even today some followers do not feel like getting involved in things they do not want to know and would put them in shortage (v.14) - with the only possibility of fraternal sharing.

They seem unwilling to hear anything but proclamations of power, opulence, fame and imperial victory.

Their heads and their desires remain distant, engaged only in the validations of "swelling" and profit - despite appearances to the contrary.

They come to kidnap the Son of God for themselves, because they seem to have become exactly like the adversaries of the new Faith: hardened hearts (v.17) - eyes that do not look, ears that do not listen (v.18).

By moving away from him to turn willingly to the usual idolatries and pagan hopes.

Of course, there were confused ideas about the Messiah around - but all related to the [unfaithful] conception of ‘grandeur’.

But the authentic Messiah doesn’t want to reach an eminent position through contacts and deceptions, but rather to help needy and frightened humanity.

Many were waiting for a King, others for a high priest who was finally holy.

Some expected a guerrilla, or a healer;  others a judge or a prophet. No one a Servant.

Everyone reduced him to normal flattery, according to their interests - and class of belonging.

In fact, the very intimates of the Master showed themselves willing to go after any breeze of doctrine, as long as this could allow them to retain the treasures of the Kingdom.

Any title for the Messiah - religious, political, nationalist - could be tolerated, digested and made tameable... except the one that forced them to become servants of others.

The only uncomfortable presence.

Yet the prolonged absence of a prophetic spirit becomes the cause of many torments.

The inclination to coexistence and communion is missionary ‘truth’. Instrument for the redemption of all, starting with those who reach out to needy sisters and brothers.

By its nature and mandate, the small boat of the Church remains sent to all nations. ‘Salt of the earth’, ‘Light of the world’.

No believer must imagine himself exonerated.

Baptism has incorporated us, so that we are launched to cooperate - according to capacity and contexts.

A breath that cannot be interrupted or limited. Death would result.

In short, the Lord doesn’t ask us for marginal and nuanced behavior, but rather receptive and global ones.

Attitudes that affect the sense of history and its assets...

Because sharing the little «bread» doesn’t impoverish; rather, it enriches.

To internalize and live the message:

«They had ‘only one bread’ with them in the boat»: do you complain about it or do you evaluate its meaning?

[Tuesday 6th wk. in O.T.  February 17, 2026]

Dear friends, do not hesitate to follow Jesus Christ. In him we find the truth about God and about mankind. He helps us to overcome our selfishness, to rise above our ambitions and to conquer all that oppresses us. The one who does evil, who sins, becomes a slave of sin and will never attain freedom (cf. Jn 8:34). Only by renouncing hatred and our hard and blind hearts will we be free and a new life will well up in us.

Convinced that it is Christ who is the true measure of man, and knowing that in him we find the strength needed to face every trial, I wish to proclaim openly Jesus Christ as the way, the truth and the life. In him everyone will find complete freedom, the light to understand reality more deeply and to transform it by the renewing power of love.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Havana 28 March 2012]

4. In my first encyclical, in which I set forth the program of my Pontificate, I said that "the Church's fundamental function in every age, and particularly in ours, is to direct man's gaze, to point the awareness and experience of the whole of humanity toward the mystery of Christ."4

The Church's universal mission is born of faith in Jesus Christ, as is stated in our Trinitarian profession of faith: "I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father.... For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man."5 The redemption event brings salvation to all, "for each one is included in the mystery of the redemption and with each one Christ has united himself forever through this mystery."6 It is only in faith that the Church's mission can be understood and only in faith that it finds its basis.

Nevertheless, also as a result of the changes which have taken place in modern times and the spread of new theological ideas, some people wonder: Is missionary work among non-Christians still relevant? Has it not been replaced by inter-religious dialogue? Is not human development an adequate goal of the Church's mission? Does not respect for conscience and for freedom exclude all efforts at conversion? Is it not possible to attain salvation in any religion? Why then should there be missionary activity?

"No one comes to the Father, but by me" (Jn 14:6)

5. If we go back to the beginnings of the Church, we find a clear affirmation that Christ is the one Savior of all, the only one able to reveal God and lead to God. In reply to the Jewish religious authorities who question the apostles about the healing of the lame man, Peter says: "By the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead, by him this man is standing before you well.... And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:10, 12). This statement, which was made to the Sanhedrin, has a universal value, since for all people-Jews and Gentiles alike - salvation can only come from Jesus Christ.

The universality of this salvation in Christ is asserted throughout the New Testament. St. Paul acknowledges the risen Christ as the Lord. He writes: "Although there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth - as indeed there are many 'gods' and many 'lords' - yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist" (1 Cor 8:5-6). One God and one Lord are asserted by way of contrast to the multitude of "gods" and "lords" commonly accepted. Paul reacts against the polytheism of the religious environment of his time and emphasizes what is characteristic of the Christian faith: belief in one God and in one Lord sent by God.

In the Gospel of St. John, this salvific universality of Christ embraces all the aspects of his mission of grace, truth and revelation: the Word is "the true light that enlightens every man" (Jn 1:9). And again, "no one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known" (Jn 1:18; cf. Mt 11:27). God's revelation becomes definitive and complete through his only-begotten Son: "In many and various ways God spoke of old to our fathers by the prophets; but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom he also created the world" (Heb 1:1-2; cf. Jn 14:6). In this definitive Word of his revelation, God has made himself known in the fullest possible way. He has revealed to mankind who he is. This definitive self-revelation of God is the fundamental reason why the Church is missionary by her very nature. She cannot do other than proclaim the Gospel, that is, the fullness of the truth which God has enabled us to know about himself.

Christ is the one mediator between God and mankind: "For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all, the testimony to which was borne at the proper time. For this I was appointed a preacher and apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying), a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth" (1 Tm 2:5-7; cf. Heb 4:14-16). No one, therefore, can enter into communion with God except through Christ, by the working of the Holy Spirit. Christ's one, universal mediation, far from being an obstacle on the journey toward God, is the way established by God himself, a fact of which Christ is fully aware. Although participated forms of mediation of different kinds and degrees are not excluded, they acquire meaning and value only from Christ's own mediation, and they cannot be understood as parallel or complementary to his.

6. To introduce any sort of separation between the Word and Jesus Christ is contrary to the Christian faith. St. John clearly states that the Word, who "was in the beginning with God," is the very one who "became flesh" (Jn 1:2, 14). Jesus is the Incarnate Word-a single and indivisible person. One cannot separate Jesus from the Christ or speak of a "Jesus of history" who would differ from the "Christ of faith." The Church acknowledges and confesses Jesus as "the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16:16): Christ is none other than Jesus of Nazareth: he is the Word of God made man for the salvation of all. In Christ "the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily" (Col 2:9) and "from his fullness have we all received" (Jn 1:16). The "only Son, who is the bosom of the Father" (Jn 1:18) is "the beloved Son, in whom we have redemption.... For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his Cross" (Col 1:13-14, 19-20). It is precisely this uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance, whereby, while belonging to history, he remains history's center and goal:7 "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end" (Rv 22:13).

Thus, although it is legitimate and helpful to consider the various aspects of the mystery of Christ, we must never lose sight of its unity. In the process of discovering and appreciating the manifold gifts-especially the spiritual treasures-that God has bestowed on every people, we cannot separate those gifts from Jesus Christ, who is at the center of God's plan of salvation. Just as "by his incarnation the Son of God united himself in some sense with every human being," so too "we are obliged to hold that the Holy Spirit offers everyone the possibility of sharing in the Paschal Mystery in a manner known to God."8 God's plan is "to unite all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth" (Eph 1:10).

[Pope John Paul II, Redemtoris Missio]

“We offer this Mass for our 21 Coptic brothers, slaughtered for the sole reason that they were Christians”. These were Pope Francis’ words during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Tuesday, 17 February. “Let us pray for them, that the Lord welcome them as martyrs, for their families, for my brother Tawadros, who is suffering greatly”, he added. In a telephone conversation on Monday afternoon, Pope Francis spoke personally with Tawadrosii, Patriarch of the Coptic Orthodox Church. He expressed his profound sadness for the barbaric assassination carried out by Islamic fundamentalists, and assured him of his prayers for the funerals.

Pope Francis opened his homily with the words of the entrance antiphon, “Be my protector, O God, a mighty stronghold to save me. For you are my rock, my stronghold! Lead me, guide me, for the sake of your name” (cf. Ps 31[30]:3-4). He continued with the passage on the flood in the day’s Reading from the Book of Genesis (6:5-8, 7:1-5, 10) which, he said, “makes us think about man’s capacity for destruction: man is capable of destroying everything that God made” when “he thinks he is more powerful than God”. Thus, “God can make good things, but man is capable of destroying them all”.

Even starting from the beginning “in the first chapters of the Bible, we find many examples”. For example, Francis explained, “man summons the flood through his wickedness: it is he who summons it!”. Moreover, “man summons the fire out of heaven, to Sodom and Gomorrah, out of his wickedness”. Then, “man creates confusion, the division of humanity — Babel, the Tower of Babel — with his wickedness”. In other words, “man is capable of destruction, we are all capable of destruction”. This is confirmed again in Genesis with “a very, very sharp phrase: ‘This wickedness was great and every innermost intent of their heart — in the heart of mankind — was nothing but evil, always”.

It isn’t a question of being too negative, the Pope pointed out, because “this is the truth”. At this point “we are even capable of destroying fraternity”, as demonstrated by the story of “Cain and Abel in the first pages of the Bible”. This episode which “destroys fraternity, is the beginning of wars: jealousy, envy, such greed for power, to have more power”. Yes, Francis confirmed, “this seems negative, but it is realistic”. After all, he added, one need only pick up a newspaper to see “that more than 90 percent of the news is about destruction: more than 90 percent! And we see this every day!”.

Thus the fundamental question: “what happens in the heart of man?”, the Pope asked. “Jesus once warned his disciples that evil does not enter a man’s heart because he eats something that isn’t pure, but rather, it comes out of the heart”. And “all wickedness comes out of the heart of man”. Indeed, “our weak heart is wounded”. There is “always that desire for autonomy” which leads one to say: “I do what I want, and if I want to do this, I do it! And if I want to make war over this, I do it! And if I want to destroy my family over this, I do it! And if I want to kill my neighbour over this, I do it”. But this is really “everyday news”, the Pope remarked, observing that “newspapers don’t tell us news about the life of saints”.

Therefore, he continued, returning to the central question: “why are we like this?”. And the answer: “Because we have the opportunity to destroy: this is the problem!”. And in doing so, “with war, with arms trafficking, we are entrepreneurs of death!”. And “there are countries that sell arms to this one that is at war with that one, and they also sell them to that one, so that war continues”. The problem is precisely the “capacity for destruction and this does not come from our neighbour” but “from us!”.

“Every innermost intent of the heart is nothing but evil”, Francis again repeated. And “we have this seed inside, this possibility”. But “we also have the Holy Spirit who saves us”. It is thus a matter of choosing to start with the “little things”. And so, “when a woman goes to the market and finds another, starts to gossip, to speak ill of her neighbour, about that woman over there: this woman kills, this woman is evil”. And this happens “at the market” but also “in the parish, in associations, when there is jealousy, the envious ones go to the priest to say ‘this one no, this one yes, this one does...’”. And this too “is evil, the capacity to destroy, which all of us have”.

This is the point on which “today the Church, on the threshold of Lent, causes us to reflect”. The Pope’s reflection in this regard started from the Gospel of Mark (8:14-21). “In the Gospel, Jesus lightly reprimands the disciples who were arguing: ‘you were supposed to bring the bread — no, you were!’”. Basically the Twelve “were discussing as usual, were arguing amongst themselves”. And Jesus says something beautiful to them “Take heed, beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod”. Thus, “He simply makes an example of two people: Herod is bad, he is an assassin, and the Pharisees hypocrites”. But the Lord also speaks of “‘leaven’ and they do not understand”.

The fact is, as Mark writes, the disciples “were speaking about bread, about this bread, and Jesus tells them: ‘that leaven is dangerous, what we have inside is what leads us to destroy. Take heed, beware!’”. Then “Jesus shows the other door: ‘Are your hearts hardened? Do you not remember when I broke the five loaves, the door of God’s salvation?”. In fact, “nothing good ever comes from arguing”, he said, “there will always be division, destruction!”. He continued: “Think about salvation, about what God too did for us, and make the right choice!”. But the disciples “did not understand because their hearts were hardened by this passion, by this wickedness of arguing amongst themselves to see who was to blame for forgetting the bread”.

Francis then advised that “this message of the Lord” should be taken seriously, because “this isn’t something strange, this isn’t a Martian talking, no: these are things that happen in everyday life”. And to confirm this, he repeated, we only need to pick up “the newspaper, nothing more!”.

However, he added, “man is capable of doing such good: let’s consider Mother Teresa, for example, a woman of our era”. But if “all of us are capable of doing such good” we are “also capable of destroying in great and small measure, in the same family: of destroying the children, not letting the children grow freely, not helping them to grow well” and thus in some way nullifying the children. “We have this capacity and this is the reason constant meditation, prayer, discussion among ourselves is necessary, to avoid falling into this wickedness which destroys everything”.

And “we have the strength” to do it, as “Jesus reminds us”, and “today He tells us: Remember. Remember me, who spilled my blood for you; remember me, who saved you, who save everyone; remember me, who has the power to accompany you on the journey of life, not on the road of evil, but on the path of goodness, of doing good for others; not on the path of destruction, but on the path of building: building a family, building a city, building a culture, building a homeland, always more!”.

With today’s reflection, Francis asked the Lord, for the grace to “always choose the right path with his help and not to let ourselves be deceived by the seduction that will lead us down the wrong path” before Lent begins.

[L'Osservatore Romano, Weekly ed. in English, n. 8, 20 February 2015]

VI Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [15 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. The theme of the two paths, so dear to the prophets, touches on the theme of human freedom and responsibility. This Sunday's readings help us to better understand how not to go astray in life.

First Reading from the Book of Sirach (15:15-20 NV 15:16-21) 

God created us free, and Ben Sira the Wise offers us here a reflection on human freedom that is divided into three points: FIRST, evil is external to man; SECOND, man is free to choose between evil and good; THIRD, choosing good also means choosing happiness. FIRST: evil is external to man because it is not part of our nature, and this is already great news; because if evil were part of our nature, there would be no hope of salvation: we could never free ourselves from it. This, for example, was the conception of the Babylonians. In contrast, the Bible is much more optimistic: it affirms that evil is external to man; God did not create evil, and it is not he who drives us to commit it. He is therefore not responsible for the evil we commit. This is the meaning of the last verse of this reading: 'God has not commanded anyone to be wicked, nor has he given anyone permission to sin'. Shortly before this passage, Ben Sira writes: 'Do not say, "The Lord has led me astray... Do not say, "He has caused me to go astray"' (Sir 15:11-12).

If God had created Adam as a being who was partly good and partly evil, as the Babylonians imagined, evil would be part of our nature. But God is only love, and evil is totally foreign to him. The account of the fall of Adam and Eve in the book of Genesis was written precisely to make it clear that evil is external to man, since it is introduced by the serpent and spreads throughout the world when man begins to distrust God. We find the same statement in the letter of St James: 'No one, when tempted, should say, 'Temptation comes from God'; for God cannot be tempted by evil, and he himself tempts no one'. In other words, evil is totally foreign to God: he cannot push us to do it. And St James continues: 'Each person is tempted when they are dragged away and enticed by their own desire' (Jas 1:13-14). SECOND: man is free and can choose evil or good. This certainty was slowly acquired by the people of Israel; yet, here too, the Bible is unequivocal: God created man free. For this certainty to mature in Israel, it was necessary for the people to experience God's liberating action at every stage of their history, beginning with the experience of liberation from Egypt. The entire faith of Israel was born from its historical experience: God is its liberator; and little by little it was understood that what is true today was already true at the moment of creation, and therefore it was deduced that God created man free. We must therefore learn to reconcile these two biblical certainties: that God is almighty and that, nevertheless, man is free before him. And it is precisely because man is free to choose that we can speak of sin: the very notion of sin presupposes freedom; if we were not free, our mistakes could not be called sins. Perhaps, in order to enter a little into this mystery, we must remember that God's omnipotence is that of love: we know well that only true love makes the other free. To guide man in his choices, God gave him his Law, and the book of Deuteronomy emphasises this strongly (cf. Dt 30:11-14).  THIRD: choosing good means choosing happiness. We read in the text: "Before men lie life and death, good and evil: to each will be given what he has chosen." In other words, it is in fidelity to God that man finds true happiness. To turn away from him means, sooner or later, to bring about one's own unhappiness. Figuratively speaking, man is constantly at a crossroads: two roads open up before him (the Bible speaks of two 'ways'). One way leads to light, joy and life: blessed are those who follow it. The other is a way of night and darkness and ultimately leads only to sadness and death. Unhappy are those who stray onto it. Here too, one cannot help but think of the story of the fall of Adam and Eve: their bad choice led them down the wrong path. The theme of the two paths is very common in the Bible, particularly in the book of Deuteronomy (30:15-20). According to the theme of the two paths, we are never definitively prisoners, even after making wrong choices, because it is always possible to turn back. Through Baptism, we are grafted onto Christ, who at every moment gives us the strength to choose the right path again: this is why we call him Redeemer, that is, Liberator. Ben Sira said that it is up to us to remain faithful and, as baptised persons, we must add: we remain faithful with the grace of Jesus Christ.

Responsorial Psalm (118/119)

This psalm perfectly echoes the first reading from Ben Sira: it is the same meditation that continues; the idea developed (in a different way, of course, but in full coherence) in these two texts is that humanity finds its happiness only in trust in God and obedience to his commandments: "Blessed is the one who is upright in his way and walks in the Law of the Lord". Misfortune and death begin for man when he strays from the path of serene trust. In fact, allowing suspicion of God and his commandments to enter our hearts and, as a result, doing as we please means taking a bad road with no way out. This is precisely the problem of Adam and Eve in the story of the fall in the Garden of Eden. We find, as if in filigree, the theme of the two paths mentioned in the first reading: if we listen to Ben Sira, we are perpetual travellers, forced to constantly check our path... Blessed among us are those who have found the right path! Because, of the two paths that constantly open up before us, one leads to happiness, the other to unhappiness. The believer experiences the sweetness of fidelity to God's commandments: this is what the psalm wants to tell us. It is the longest psalm in the Psalter (176 verses with 22 stanzas of 8 verses) and the few verses proposed today constitute only a very small part of it, the equivalent of a single stanza. Why twenty-two stanzas? Because there are twenty-two letters in the Hebrew alphabet: each verse of each stanza begins with the same letter, and the stanzas follow each other in alphabetical order. In literature, we speak of an 'acrostic', although here it is not a matter of literary virtuosity, but of a true profession of faith: this psalm is a poem in honour of the Law, a meditation on God's gift, which is the Law, that is, the commandments. Indeed, rather than a psalm, it would be better to speak of a litany in honour of the Law: something that is rather foreign to us. In fact, one of the characteristics of the Bible, which is somewhat surprising to us, is the true love for the Law that dwells in the biblical believer. The commandments are not endured as a domination that God would exercise over us, but as advice, the only valid advice for leading a happy life. "Blessed are those who are upright in their ways, who walk according to the Law of the Lord": when the biblical man utters this phrase, he means it with all his heart. Obviously, this is not magic: men who are faithful to the Law may encounter all sorts of misfortunes in the course of their lives; but, in these tragic cases, the believer knows that only the path of trust in God can give him peace of mind. The Law is accepted as a gift that God gives to his people, warning them against all false paths; it is an expression of the Father's concern for his children, just as we sometimes warn a child or a friend against what we think is dangerous for them. It is said that God gives his Law, and it is truly considered a gift. In fact, God did not limit himself to freeing his people from slavery in Egypt; left to its own devices, Israel would have risked falling back into other forms of slavery that might have been even worse. By giving his Law, God was in a way offering a user manual for freedom. The Law is therefore an expression of God's love for his people. It must be said that we did not have to wait for the New Testament to discover that God is Love and that, ultimately, the Law has no other purpose than to lead us on the path of love. The entire Bible is the story of the chosen people's learning in the school of love and fraternal life. The book of Deuteronomy stated: "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Deut 6:4). And the book of Leviticus continued: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself' (Lev 19:18). Later, Jesus, combining these two commandments, was able to say that they summarise the entire Jewish Law. Let us return to the Beatitude of the first verse of this psalm: 'Blessed is the man who follows the Law of the Lord'. The word "blessed," as we have already learned, can be translated as "on the way," so the meaning of this verse would be: "Walk with confidence, man who observes the Law of the Lord." The biblical man is so convinced that his life and happiness are at stake that this litany I mentioned earlier is actually a prayer. After the first three verses, which are statements about the happiness of men faithful to the Law, the remaining 173 verses address God directly, in a style that is sometimes contemplative, sometimes supplicatory, with invocations such as: "Open my eyes, that I may behold the wonders of your Law". And the litany continues, repeating almost the same formulas over and over again: for example, in Hebrew, the same eight terms are always used in each stanza to describe the Law. Only lovers dare to repeat themselves like this, without risking weariness. Eight words that are always the same and also eight verses in each of the twenty-two stanzas: the number eight, in the Bible, is the number of the new Creation. The first Creation was accomplished by God in seven days; the eighth day will therefore be that of the renewed Creation, of the 'new heavens and the new earth', according to another biblical expression. It will finally be able to manifest itself when all humanity lives according to God's Law, that is, in love, since it is the same thing. Other elements of the symbolism of the number eight: there were four human couples (eight people) in Noah's ark; Christ's resurrection took place on Sunday, which is both the first and eighth day of the week. For this reason, the baptisteries of the early centuries were often octagonal; even today, we still see numerous octagonal bell towers.

FURTHER INSIGHT: the eight terms in the vocabulary of the Law, considered synonyms that express the different facets of God's love that is given in his Law: Commandments: to order, to command; Law: derives from a root that does not mean 'to prescribe' but 'to teach'; it indicates the way to God. It is a pedagogy, an accompaniment that God offers us: a gift; Word: the Word of God is always creative, a word of love: 'God said... and so it came to pass' (Gen 1). We know well that 'I love you' is also a creative word; Promise: the Word of God is always promise and faithfulness; Judgements: dealing with justice; Decrees: from the verb 'to engrave', 'to write on stone' (the tablets of the Law); Precepts: what God has entrusted to us; Testimonies: of God's faithfulness.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (2:6-10)

Last Sunday, St Paul already contrasted human wisdom with the wisdom of God: 'Your faith', he said, 'is not based on human wisdom, but on the power of God'. And he insisted that the mystery of Christ has nothing to do with our reasoning: in the eyes of men, the Gospel appears to be madness, and those who stake their lives on it are foolish. This insistence on the term 'wisdom' may surprise us, but Paul is addressing the Corinthians, that is, the Greeks, for whom wisdom is the most precious virtue.

Today, Paul continues along the same lines: the proclamation of the mystery of God may seem like folly in the eyes of the world, but it is an infinitely higher wisdom, the wisdom of God. 'Among those who are perfect, we do speak of wisdom, but of a wisdom that is not of this world... we speak instead of the wisdom of God'. It is up to us to choose whether to live according to the wisdom of the world, the spirit of the world, or according to the wisdom of God: two totally contradictory wisdoms. Here we return to the theme of the other readings for this Sunday: the first reading from the book of Sirach and Psalm 118/119 both developed, each in its own way, the theme of the two paths: man is placed at the crossroads of two paths and is free to choose his own way; one path leads to life and happiness; the other sinks into darkness, death, and ultimately offers only false joys. 'The wisdom of God that has remained hidden' (v. 7): one of the great affirmations of the Bible is that man cannot understand everything about the mystery of life and creation, nor the mystery of God himself. This limitation is part of our very being. In this regard, we read in Deuteronomy: 'The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed things are for us and our children forever, that we may put into practice all the words of this Law' (Deut 29:28). This means that God knows everything, and we know only what he has chosen to reveal to us, beginning with the Law, which is the key to everything else. Let us return once more to the book of Genesis, which tells of the Garden of Eden, where there were trees of every kind, 'pleasing to the eye and good for food' (Gen 2:9); and there were also two special trees: one, located in the middle of the garden, was the tree of life; the other, located in an unspecified place, was called the tree of the knowledge of what makes one happy or unhappy. Adam was allowed to eat the fruit of the tree of life; indeed, it was recommended, for God had said, "You may eat of every tree in the garden... except one." Only the fruit of the tree of knowledge was forbidden. This is a figurative way of saying that man cannot know everything and must accept this limitation: Hidden things belong to the Lord our God, says Deuteronomy. On the contrary, the Torah, the Law, which is the tree of life, is entrusted to man: practising the Law means nourishing ourselves day after day with what will make us live.

I return to this expression: Wisdom kept hidden, established by God before the ages for our glory (cf. v7). Paul insists several times in his letters that God's plan has been established from all eternity and there has never been a rethinking or a change because the unfolding of God's plan does not change according to the behaviour of humanity: we cannot imagine that God first created a perfect world until the day Adam committed his sin and then, to make amends, decided to send his Son. Against this conception, Paul develops in many of his letters the idea that the role of Jesus Christ has been planned from all eternity and that God's plan precedes all human history. He says this clearly in his letter to the Ephesians (cf. Eph 1:9-10) and in his letter to the Romans (cf. Rom 16:25-26). The fulfilment of this plan, as Paul says, is 'to give us glory': glory is an attribute of God and God alone, and our vocation is to share in his glory. For Paul, this expression is another way of speaking about God's plan to bring us all together in Jesus Christ and make us share in the glory of the Trinity, as we read in the letter to the Ephesians. St Paul writes again: But as it is written: 'What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, God has prepared for those who love him' (v. 9). When he says 'as it is written', he is referring to the prophet Isaiah, who says: "Never before has anything like this been heard or seen, nor has any eye seen a god who acts on behalf of those who trust in him" (Is 64:3). Here is the amazement of the believer gratified by the revelation of God's mysteries. And he continues: "God has prepared these things for those who love him". But could there be people for whom this would not have been prepared? Are there therefore privileged and excluded people? Certainly not: God's plan is for everyone; but only those who have an open heart can participate in it, and each person is the sole master of their own heart. It is the theme of trust in God because the mystery of his providential plan is revealed only to the little ones, as Jesus says: "You have hidden these things from the wise and learned and revealed them to little ones" (cf. Mt 11:25 and Lk 10:21). Since we are all little ones, we need only recognise this humbly and with trust in God. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:17-37)

The Kingdom advances slowly but surely. This Gospel of Matthew 5 allows us to understand how the Kingdom of God advances in history: not by breaking, but by fulfilling. The key verb that St Matthew puts on Jesus' lips is 'I have not come to abolish, but to fulfil'. The whole Bible, from Abraham onwards, is oriented towards a progressive fulfilment of God's benevolent plan. Christians, in fact, do not live in nostalgia for the past, but in active expectation: they judge history not on the basis of immediate successes, but on the progress of the Kingdom. This is why we can say that Sunday Mass is the 'meeting of the Kingdom's construction site': the place where we see whether the Gospel is really transforming life. It is a slow growth, inscribed in the Law.  The evangelist shows that this slowness is not a defect, but God's own method. The Law given to Moses represented the first steps: indicating the minimum necessary for coexistence to be possible – do not kill, do not steal, do not lie. It was already a decisive step forward from the law of the strongest. Jesus does not cancel these achievements; on the contrary, he brings them to maturity. The antitheses ('You have heard that it was said... but I say to you...') manifest this advancement of the Kingdom: not only avoiding murder, but eradicating anger; not only avoiding adultery, but purifying the gaze; not only avoiding false oaths, but living in the truth of the word. Each time the Kingdom takes a step forward, because the human heart is slowly converted. And so the Kingdom grows through relationships. The text highlighted a decisive point: the commandments renewed by Jesus all concern relationships with others: reconciliation with one's brother, respect for women, trustworthy speech, love of one's enemy. If God's merciful plan is, as Paul says, to reunite everyone in Christ, then every step towards a truer brotherhood is already an advance of the Kingdom. This is why Jesus does not limit himself to teaching us to pray 'Thy Kingdom come', but shows us how to bring it about: through concrete, daily choices, often hidden but real. At the beginning of his discourse, Matthew presents the Beatitudes that describe those who allow the Kingdom to advance: not the powerful, but the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers. It is to the little ones that the Father reveals his mysteries. Here too, the Kingdom does not advance by force or spectacle, but by humility and fidelity.

The Kingdom advances like salt that disappears and like light that shines without noise. It is growth that is measured over the long term, not in the immediate. This is why Jesus can say at the end of the chapter: 'Be perfect' (Mt 5:48), that is, brought to fulfilment. It is not an unattainable ideal, but the goal of a journey that God himself accompanies. The Kingdom of God does not burst in, but grows; it does not eliminate the past, but brings it to fulfilment; it does not advance by force, but by conversion of heart. Every step forward in love, every reconciled relationship, every word made true: this is how, slowly but surely, the Kingdom comes.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

A few days ago, I read in the newspaper about another case of a 22-year-old girl being stabbed. She was stabbed because she was listening to music at too high a volume, annoying her attacker.

Recently, several similar incidents have been reported in the media, all involving young people and all for trivial reasons. Some were for looking too long at the girl of their dreams, others for a slightly risqué compliment, etc.

Unfortunately, many young people these days attack their peers with knives they carry with them. 

It should be noted that, like all objects, knives do not only have a negative value. They are used in the kitchen, for work; in the hands of a skilled chef, they become something precious. 

In primitive societies, they were used to defend against animals and enemies.

Today, in the world of young people and beyond, if we think of the numerous cases of femicide where women are killed with unprecedented ferocity, it seems to be becoming a kind of status symbol.

This tool is perceived as a sign of toughness and strength, especially among young people who feel marginalised. 

The episodes of violence that occur between two individuals have no valid reasons, but the spark that triggers them is a trivial, sometimes frivolous motive.

Often, the use of knives – weapons that are easy to obtain – is inherent in individuals associated with youth gangs, in order to  become part of them and become affiliated. Here, it is as if this object could be a 'magic wand' against feelings of inner malaise and emotional and social disappointments. And this weapon would make us feel invincible, or perhaps just stronger. 

Except for professionals, getting used to carrying a weapon with us can have repercussions on our way of being. We get used to it, and we may increasingly tend towards episodes of aggression towards others. 

Leaving the house and carrying a knife with us - sooner or later, at the slightest provocation, we are tempted to use it, thus fuelling fear and increasing the likelihood of becoming a victim ourselves. In the long run, our psyche 'brings out' aspects of ourselves that may have been 'dormant' in hidden corners of our unconsciousness.

The individual ends up engaging in antisocial behaviour. And in the many goals they try to achieve, this behaviour can sometimes be harmful to themselves.

These are individuals who have a normal intellectual level, sometimes even above average.

In my experience of similar cases, referred by the Juvenile Court to the Child Neuropsychiatry Service, episodes of knife violence were associated with a low intellectual level.

These individuals often encounter failure in every initiative they take, thus increasing their sense of frustration.

They generally tend to lie and often exploit others, giving little importance to moral values.

They habitually almost never tell the truth, even when they make a promise (which they usually do not keep), showing no distress and coldly maintaining their positions.

They may be influenced by films and ancestral cultures, which can reinforce their inclination to use such weapons, without being aware of the possible consequences and the potential escalation of violence. 

We 'young people of the past' were taught and passed on the ability to react constructively to the difficulties and humiliations that life inevitably brings. 

Today, however, it seems that everything is owed to us, that deprivation of anything in this excess of well-being is unbearable. 

And so, especially in emotionally unstable individuals, something triggers them to do harm; we are moving towards an insane, sick aggression. Not towards that 'healthy determination' that helps us overcome life's obstacles.

I have often heard from people who came before me, and perhaps also from some reading that I now cannot remember, that the most cruel beast is man. Two souls lurk in his heart: one made of sociability and a drive towards others, the other of jealousy and rivalry, of cruelty towards others.

People with these issues tend to be dishonest, to lie and deceive others, to try to exploit them, forgetting the moral principles they have learned.

These people always consider themselves 'the best'. If this is not perceived, anger rises - consciously or unconsciously.

When they cause harm, they feel no remorse and no guilt.

The line between what is legal and what is not becomes blurred. We tend to act impulsively, without considering the effect of our actions on others.

As a result, we sink lower and lower. We believe that others are only there to help us get what we want.

Often, violent or even sadistic behaviour is associated with a certain pleasure.

And here we also tend to participate in clashes with 'power'.

On a collective level, just look at the recent events in Turin, where violence is directed at law enforcement officers, those who represent the rules and seek to restore legality.

Without adhering to any ideology, I am personally convinced, leaving aside party politics, that limits must be restored from childhood. In this way, a child can grow up with a clear distinction between what is good and what is evil.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, Psychologist-Psychotherapist.