1. With my gaze turned to the Shroud, I would like to extend a cordial greeting to you all, the faithful of the Church of Turin. I greet the pilgrims who have come from every part of the world at the time of this public exposition to look at one of the most unsettling signs of the Redeemer's suffering love. 

As I entered the cathedral, which still shows the scars of last year's terrible fire, I paused in adoration before the Eucharist, the sacrament which is the focus of the Church's attention and, under humble appearances, contains the true, real and substantial presence of Christ. In the light of Christ's presence in our midst, I then stopped before the Shroud, the precious Linen that can help us better to understand the mystery of the love of God's Son for us. Before the Shroud, the intense and agonizing image of an unspeakable torment, I wish to thank the Lord for this unique gift, which asks for the believer's loving attention and complete willingness to follow the Lord.

3. For the believer, what counts above all is that the Shroud is a mirror of the Gospel. In fact, if we reflect on the sacred Linen, we cannot escape the idea that the image it presents has such a profound relationship with what the Gospels tell of Jesus' passion and death, that every sensitive person feels inwardly touched and moved at beholding it. Whoever approaches it is also aware that the Shroud does not hold people's hearts to itself, but turns them to him, at whose service the Father's loving providence has put it. Therefore, it is right to foster an awareness of the precious value of this image, which everyone sees and no one at present can explain. For every thoughtful person it is a reason for deep reflection, which can even involve one's life. The Shroud is thus a truly unique sign that points to Jesus, the true Word of the Father, and invites us to pattern our lives on the life of the One who gave himself for us.

7. The Shroud is an image of silence. There is a tragic silence of incommunicability, which finds its greatest expression in death, and there is the silence of fruitfulness, which belongs to whoever refrains from being heard outwardly in order to delve to the roots of truth and life. The Shroud expresses not only the silence of death but also the courageous and fruitful silence of triumph over the transitory, through total immersion in God's eternal present. It thus offers a moving confirmation of the fact that the merciful omnipotence of our God is not restrained by any power of evil, but knows instead how to make the very power of evil contribute to good. Our age needs to rediscover the fruitfulness of silence, in order to overcome the dissipation of sounds, images and chatter that too often prevent the voice of God from being heard.

[Pope John Paul II, veneration of the Shroud, Turin, 24 May 1998]

Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Mt 23:1-12) is set in the final days of Jesus’ life, in Jerusalem; days filled with expectations and also tension. On the one hand, Jesus directs harsh criticism at the scribes and Pharisees, and on the other, he entrusts important mandates to Christians of all times, thus also to us.

He says to the crowd: “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practice and observe whatever they tell you”. Meaning that they have the authority to teach what is in conformity with the Law of God. However, immediately after, Jesus adds: “but do not do ‘what they do; for they preach, but do not practice’” (vv. 2-3). Brothers and sisters, a frequent flaw of those in authority, whether civil or ecclesiastic authority, is that of demanding of others things — even righteous things — that they do not, however, put into practise in the first person. They live a double life. Jesus says: “They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger (v. 4). This attitude sets a bad example of authority, which should instead derive its primary strength precisely from setting a good example. Authority arises from a good example, so as to help others to practise what is right and proper, sustaining them in the trials that they meet on the right path. Authority is a help, but if it is wrongly exercised, it becomes oppressive; it does not allow people to grow, and creates a climate of distrust and hostility, and also leads to corruption.

Jesus openly denounces some of the negative conduct of the scribes and of some Pharisees: “they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues, and salutations in the market places” (vv. 6-7). This is a temptation that corresponds to human pride and that is not always easy to overcome. It is the attitude of living only for appearances.

Then Jesus entrusts the mandates to his disciples: “you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brethren. [...] Neither be called masters, for you have one master, the Christ. He who is greatest among you shall be your servant” (vv. 8-11).

We disciples of Jesus must not seek titles of honour, of authority or supremacy. I tell you, it pains me personally to see people who, psychologically, live in pursuit of vain accolades. We disciples of Jesus must not do this, because among ourselves there must be a simple and fraternal attitude. We are all brothers and sisters and in no way must we abuse others or look down on them. No. We are all brothers and sisters. If we have received talents from the heavenly Father, we must place them at the service of our brothers and sisters, and not exploit them for our own satisfaction and personal interests. We must not consider ourselves superior to others; modesty is essential for an existence that seeks to conform to the teaching of Jesus, who is meek and humble of heart and came not to be served but to serve. 

May the Virgin Mary, “humble and exalted more than any creature” (Dante,  Paradiso, xxxiii:2), help us, with her motherly intercession, to spurn pride and vanity, and to be meek and docile to the love that comes from God, for the service of our brothers and sisters and for their joy, which will also be our own.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 5 November 2017]

XX Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [17 August 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Here is the commentary on next Sunday's biblical texts.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (38:4-6, 8-10)

 The name Jeremiah gave rise to the term 'jeremiad'. But it would be a mistake to think that this prophet spent his time complaining and feeling sorry for himself. It is true, however, that he was often led to cry out for mercy under the weight of his trials. And God knows how many he experienced! So much so that the proverb 'No one is a prophet in his own country' applies particularly to him. At times, expressions of utter discouragement emerge from his pen (cf. Jer 15:10, 18; 20:14). Faced with the repeated failures of his mission and the evils of which he is a victim, Jeremiah asks himself disturbing questions, even going so far as to call God to account, whose conduct seems surprising, if not downright unjust: "You are righteous, Lord! But I want to argue with you. Why do the wicked prosper? Why are all the treacherous at ease?" (Jer 12:1-2). Reading the book of Jeremiah, we realise that he had good reasons to ask these questions and complain: chapter after chapter, the plots of his adversaries emerge, along with their deceit and threats, which are then cruelly carried out (cf. Jer 20:10; 18:18; 11:21; 12:6). In the passage proposed by the liturgy this Sunday, we are faced with one of his many misfortunes, a typical episode of his life in which all the arguments and wickedness of his adversaries appear: "Kill Jeremiah, for he is discouraging the warriors who are left in this city and discouraging the people by speaking to them like this, for this man is not seeking the welfare of the people, but their harm" (v. 4). They took him and threw him into the cistern of Prince Melchiah, where there was no water but mud, and he sank into the mud, so that the persecution he suffered could not be described more realistically. However, God did not abandon his prophet, but kept the promise he made on the day of his calling, to sustain him against all adversity, and it was truly a covenant between God and him (Jer 1:4-5, 17-19); in fact, on a day when he was particularly discouraged, God renewed his mission and his promise (Jer 15:21), and now the instrument of liberation will be a foreigner, an Ethiopian named Ebed-Melech. This is not the first time that the Bible presents us with foreigners who are more respectful of God and his prophets than the chosen people. This Ethiopian has the courage to intervene with the king, who grants permission to save Jeremiah. When Jesus later tells the parable of the Good Samaritan, he may have been thinking of this Ethiopian who saved the prophet, because there are many similarities between the Good Samaritan and the Ethiopian. In the rest of the story, verses not included in the liturgical text, many details emerge about the sensitivity of the pagan who saves the prophet, taking every precaution not to hurt him during the ascent (28:11-13). Why is no one a prophet in his own country? This is a recurring question: it probably happens because the proclamation of God's love for humanity requires us to love one another, and when we live together, it is easier to see the negative than the positive: 'No one is great in the eyes of his neighbour'. Job's complaints (in chapter 3) are similar to those of Jeremiah, and it is thought that the author of the Book of Job was inspired by the lamentations of Jeremiah, considered the quintessential example of the persecuted righteous man.

Responsorial Psalm (39/40:2,3,4,18)

"I waited patiently for the Lord, and he turned to me." The psalm speaks in the first person singular, but in reality it is the people of Israel who sing their gratitude because they have gone through terrible trials and God has delivered them. This psalm is therefore a psalm of thanksgiving, composed to be sung in the Temple at the time of the offering of a sacrifice of thanksgiving, animal sacrifices celebrated until the final destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. The whole people bursts with joy on their return from Babylonian exile, as after the crossing of the Red Sea. Exile was like a deadly fall into a bottomless pit, an abyss from which it seemed impossible to rise, and the psalm speaks of the 'terror of the abyss'. During that long period of trial, the people, supported by priests and prophets, maintained their hope and strength to call for help: 'You are my help and my deliverer: my God, do not delay! (v. 18) and God saved them: 'The Lord... has heard my cry' (v. 2). On their return, the people seem resurrected and give thanks: 'He has put a new song in my mouth... Many will see and fear and trust in the Lord... But I am poor and needy: the Lord cares for me" (vv. 4, 18). Before the exile, Israel lived in security, but the prophets had failed to awaken it from its indifference. During the exile, it meditated on the causes of the disaster, wondering if the cause was not its own superficiality. This psalm sounds like a warning for the future, or rather a resolution because, in order not to fall back into the same error, Israel must live faithfully according to the Covenant. In this spirit, the psalm develops a reflection on what truly pleases God: "You do not desire sacrifices or offerings... You have not asked for burnt offerings or sacrifices for sin. Then I said, 'Here I am, I come'. (vv. 7, 8, 9). To express the experience of returning to the promised land as a return to life, the psalmist uses the parable of a man thrown into a pit by his enemies, perhaps inspired by the experience of the prophet Jeremiah, whose misadventures are recounted in the first reading: thrown into a pit, he is freed by Ebed-Melek, a foreigner. Jeremiah knew that behind that man's surprising generosity was God himself: "He has brought me up out of a pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock and established my goings" (v. 3). Freed, he bursts with joy: "He has put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and trust in the Lord" (v. 4). Those who have been saved sing God's praise, and others, seeing that God saves, will want to turn to Him. The psalm does not stop there, because the final verse proclaims: "You are my help and my deliverer: my God, do not delay!" (v. 18). Since humanity has not yet reached the full fulfilment of God's plan, the psalmist suggests two attitudes of prayer: praise for the salvation that has already taken place, so that others may open themselves to the saving God; supplication for the salvation we still await, so that the Spirit may inspire us to take the necessary action. It is not we who save the world, as the psalm says: "He has put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and trust in the Lord" (v. 4). God will always find a small remnant to save. Amos says: "The God of hosts will have mercy on the remnant of Joseph" (5:15); Isaiah also repeats similar things, which are then elaborated on by Micah, Zephaniah and Zechariah, who announce that the "remnant" of Israel will not only be saved, but will become an instrument of salvation for all others. God will use them to save all humanity, as Micah says: "The remnant of Jacob will be, among many peoples, like dew from the Lord" (5:6).

Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (12:1-4)

The author of the Letter addresses words of encouragement to persecuted Christians. He devoted chapter 11 to presenting the great models of faith in the Old Testament, and last Sunday we spoke about Abraham and Sarah. Here, at the beginning of chapter 12, he states that all believers in the Old Testament are like a "cloud of witnesses" surrounding us: a cloud of protectors. The author is not content with recommending that Christians imitate the trust and constancy of the great figures of the past, but invites them to "keep their eyes fixed on Jesus," the ever-present witness, the one who said, "I am with you always, until the end of the age" (Mt 28:20), the origin of faith and its fulfilment. A more literal translation would be: Jesus is the 'pioneer of faith', and the Greek term used, ἀρχηγός archēgós, translated as 'pioneer', indicates leader, commander, pioneer, initiator, founder, the one who opens the way and leads forward, a perfect guide who can be trusted because he leads to full fulfilment. In fact, he himself underwent the test of perseverance, in which Christians are now also engaged. His test was much harder: coming as the Bridegroom, for the joy of a wedding feast, he had said of himself that one cannot make the guests fast while the bridegroom is with them (cf. Mk 2:19), but the Bridegroom was not recognised and, renouncing the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame of that punishment. St. Paul says it in another way when he writes to the Philippians: "Though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross" (Phil 2:6-8). Such a contrast is unimaginable: having come to save humanity from sin, Christ was dramatically rejected and killed because of the sins of men: "Consider carefully the one who has endured such hostility from sinners" (v. 3). Both the Letter to the Hebrews and the Letter to the Philippians emphasise that Jesus is our model and support not because of the quantity of his sufferings, but because of his "obedience" unto death, even death on a cross, as Paul writes, while in the Letter to the Hebrews we read that although he was a Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered (cf. 5:8). To obey – from the Latin ob-audire – literally means 'to place one's ear before the Word', which is the attitude of absolute trust. Jesus, in the most extreme situation, maintains total trust in the Father, who is always present and attentive to his beloved Son, sharing his suffering and anguish: 'He remains faithful, because he cannot deny himself' (2 Tim 2:13). This is followed by the triumph of God's love, and Christ sits at the right hand of God, reigning with him. This same triumph is promised to those who endure persecution like Christ. The author does not hesitate to use the word "struggle" to describe this courage: the Christians to whom he writes visibly risk their lives to remain faithful to Jesus, who had warned them: "You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death... But by your perseverance you will save your lives" (Lk 21:12-19). Throughout the world, some Christians are directly affected by this fate because they are experiencing open or hidden persecution. We, who at least for the moment do not know direct persecution, are asked to be witnesses by speaking courageously about God and defending his truth.

From the Gospel according to Luke (12:49-53)

Jesus compares his mission to a fire: "I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already burning!" From the fire of Pentecost, this proclamation spread like a flame: among the Jewish people it appeared as the destroyer of the entire religious edifice, in the pagan world it was considered a contagious madness. St Paul writes to the Corinthians: "We preach a crucified Messiah, a scandal to Jews and foolishness to pagans." (1 Cor 1:23). This fire leaves indelible traces: those who allow themselves to be burned by the Gospel and those who reject it become irreconcilable enemies, even if they are united by family ties, thus fulfilling what the prophet Micah described with desolation in his time of anguish: "The son insults his father, the daughter rebels against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; each person's enemies are their own family members." (Mi 7:6). When Jesus announces these divisions, it is not a mere premonition: he speaks from experience, as happened in Nazareth where, after an initial enthusiasm, his childhood friends and family turned against him because he had just said that his mission went beyond the borders of Israel (Lk 4:28-29). And this is not the only time that Jesus encounters misunderstanding, even opposition from his own people: St John writes that not even his brothers believed in him (cf. Jn 7:5). Moreover, Jesus does not hesitate to tell his disciples that one of the conditions for proclaiming the Kingdom of God is to accept possible painful separations. For if one wants to follow him but does not love him more than one's dearest ones and even more than one's own life, one will never become his disciple (cf. Lk 14:26). The fire he has kindled leads to radical choices. Israel was waiting for a Messiah who would bring peace to the world, as the prophecies of Isaiah (Isaiah 2:11) were well known, but Jesus instead announces divisions: "Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but division." Jesus' peace requires a radical conversion of the heart, but many will oppose this conversion with all their strength. His proclamation of peace will meet with the favour of some, but the opposition of many: having come among us to proclaim love and salvation, he suffered and died, as he himself had foretold: "The Son of Man must suffer greatly, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, be killed and rise on the third day." (Lk 9:22). And again: he will be handed over to the pagans, mocked, insulted, spat upon, scourged and killed, but he will rise on the third day (cf. Lk 18:32). His resurrection gives us courage: enlivened by his Spirit poured out upon us, we are not afraid to set the world on fire with the fire of his charity.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

The Great Commandment: only profound Quality obliges

(Mt 22:34-40)

That of the ‘Great commandment’ was the most familiar catechism rule, even to infants.

Jesus is questioned to retort: and why do you not keep the one commandment that even God fulfils - the Sabbath rest?

The unique disposition in which the Father recognizes himself is Love, not some particular precept - because only profound Quality obliges.

The spiritual proposal of the Master makes the narrative of God's people and the practice of the Prophets its own: all heart, feet, hands - and intelligence.

Complete Love for God envelops the creature in every decision [heart], every moment and aspect of its concrete 'life', all its resources [strength].

Mt doesn’t explicitly mention this last aspect, perhaps to emphasize that the Father doesn’t absorb energies in any way, but transmits them.

And Jesus adds to the nuances of authentic understanding with God enumerated in the First Testament an unexpected side to those who think of love as a feeling only emotional.

The Lord suggests study, discernment and understanding of our perceptions (v.37) - the mental and deep intelligence aspect that complements Dt 6.

At first glance, it appears to be a secondary facet or even a frill for the qualitative leap from a common religious sense to the wisely and personally configured existence of Faith.

The exact opposite is true: we are children of a Father who does not supplant us, nor absorb our forces or potential, depersonalising us; not even from the mental point of view.

Practicality alone makes us fragile, not very aware; and when we are not convinced, we will not be reliable either, always at the mercy of changing situations and the conformist, fashionable, other people’s opinion.

Jesus doesn’t speak of love for God in terms of intimacy and feeling, but of a totally involving affinity, made less oscillating precisely by the development of our sapiential measure on issues.

Here is a decisive appointment, of the Love in the round.

It would be unnatural to recognise a Lord of Heaven who does not come to meet us and instead towers over us with an objective of his own, which is extrinsic to us and makes us marginal.

Loving «How [and Because] yourself»: it’s a new Genesis in the spirit of Giving.

The paradox suggested by Jesus is that we love for the care to meet - and because we love ourselves - by expanding the I into the You.

God’s «great command» affects real life and concerns not only the quality of relationship with the world and neighbour, but the reflexive global with oneself. 

We should not be afraid of other doctrines and disciplines, neglecting the challenges even intellectual ones that call into question beliefs, works, one’s worldview, language, style, and thought itself.

All added values.

Needless to complain, if the ecclesial realities that do not update or deepen, and remain in the inherited commonplaces [or vogues] slowly decay, then disappear.

Therefore to the ancient notes of true love, the Son of God adds the ‘quality of mind’: we are not gullible, clueless, one-sided.

Our outstretched hands are the result of free and conscious choice. No forced surrender.

«Faith that does not become culture is a faith that is not fully accepted, not entirely thought out, not faithfully lived» [John Paul II].

To internalize and live the message:

What’s Great for you? Do you document and update yourself in order to better correspond to God’s Call?

[Friday 20th wk. in O.T.  August 22, 2025]

Only Quality obliges. No forced surrender

(Mt 22:34-40)

Jesus turns what was the most banal of catechism questions into a crucial question: what is the 'great' commandment? 

Despite the different theological schools, the answer was known to all: the Sabbath rest, the only prescription observed (even) by God.

The question put to the Master by the expert in the Law was not so innocent, but "to test him" (Mt 22:35; Lk 10:25) - i.e. to retort: how then do you not fulfil the Sabbath precept?

Christ simplifies the tangle of disputes, about widening or narrowing theoretical cases, and gets to the point.

Always allergic to bickering over doctrines, He makes a proposal of life as a unifying moment of the demands of the Covenant.

All norms have an essence, otherwise they remain a dispersive jumble. They find their spontaneous foundation and natural meaning in the gift of self - but motivated.

But what is the solid point and context of such an invitation? A vague feeling, one emotion among many, a passing motion? Philanthropy? Or an experience?

We are thirsty for affection and grant friendship in an alternating current, so much so that love becomes a source of misunderstandings, rooted in the need to complete each other.

This is why the second commandment appears as an explanation of the first, not a reduction of it [Mt 22:39; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27].

In the ancient world it made no sense to speak of love towards God, the ineffable Mystery.

It was the Most High who favoured someone by giving him material fortune, and he acknowledged to him a duty of worship, and sacrifices.

Ditto for the unfortunate, at least to avoid retaliation (and keep him good).

With Jesus, one speaks openly of gratuitousness - not simple gratitude - as the unifying core, both of the person and of salvation history.

Gone is the idea of the exchange of favours.

The Father does not need anything; he does not enjoy seeing us submissive and feeling recognised [the pattern of pagan religiosity] as a sovereign would towards his subjects.

The relationship with the Eternal One remains concrete, but honour towards the Most High is manifested by making His plan of good and growth towards man our own, and recognising ourselves in it.

God's plan unfolds ... with a living demand. But there is a Departure, a Centre and an Arrival. In reality, a new Genesis.

In any case, only God's initiative brings out the best in us: more talent, more desire, more interests, more unexpressed capacities, more unseen - instead of soul-denying torments.

It is the difference between religiosity that weakens the personality, and Faith.

Through Faith a special creative relationship is triggered: that of the one who accepts the Calling by Name, as well as the proposals of the Source of being itself - wave upon wave.

They anticipate our initiatives and infallibly guide us to the perfect blossoming of our own and others' Seeds.

Especially in Mt (22:38-39) and Mk (12:29-31) it is clear that love for one's neighbour derives from the experience and awareness of being loved first and unconditionally by God - looked upon, accepted, valued, promoted, gladdened, completed.

One loves not by effort [force is a dirigiste lever: it produces episodes that make life worse] but on the basis of how much we feel loved - and with immediacy, repeatedly, unconditionally.

One loves on the argument of the 'forfeit' already experienced in one's favour by Providence, which gives meaning and value to human acts.

Not out of infatuation with external, induced, however other people's expectations.

Even in the spiritual field, not a few behaviours believed to be able to solve problems, often chronicle them.

In this way, they rely on an idea of permanence - not on the dynamic of vocational gratuitousness, on the unimaginable Gift, to be received.

So the point is to adjust according to resources that come, or the distortion of models, typical of the moralist mentality.

In fact, the scheme of omnipotence in the good, paradoxically, folds the ego and its forces, and distorts its gaze.

But beyond all nuances, we are glad that the first and second commandments are about Love: what we most desire to do and receive. It is an urgency of life.

Yet we must be wise, so that the pattern of paradigms or the urges of natural affection and precipitation do not overwhelm and drag away - overturning - every good intention.

Love does not tolerate the excess of expectations, because it springs from an experience of Perfection that arrives; offered, unexpected, unpredictable. Not already set up according to concatenated and normal intentions.

If authentic, in time we will experience blossoming; not in the expectation of a return, but first and foremost in a Gift outside of time. Because it has already satiated and convinced us - with contemplative amazement - and made us rejoice.Thus the vocational and foundational Eros will continue to mould us, with its perennially explorative virtue capable of activating new Births.

Personal energy - without the usual baggage of torment, reservations, outwardness... and (again) wrath.

Great Commandment: only Deep Quality obliges

The only disposition in which the Father recognises Himself is Love, all-round and all-round; not some particular precept.

For Jesus there are no rankings in the things of God and man - in fact He showed a marked tendency to summarise the many dispositions - because only the profound Quality obliges.

The spiritual proposition of the Master appropriated the narrative of God's people and the practice of the Prophets: all heart, feet, hands - and intelligence.

Complete Love for God must envelop the creature in every decision [heart].

Likewise, in every moment and aspect of its concrete 'life', and involve all its resources [strength: cf. Mk 12:30; Lk 10:27].

Deut 6:5 (Hebrew text) reads in fact: "with all your 'much'", meaning a concrete participation in both cultic life and material fraternity - providing and helping with one's possessions.

Matthew 22:37 does not explicitly mention the latter, perhaps to emphasise that the Father does not absorb energies in any way, but transmits them.

But Jesus adds to the nuances of the authentic understanding with God enumerated in the First Testament an unexpected side to those who think of love as a delicate emotional feeling only.

The Lord suggests the study, discernment and understanding of our perceptions [Mt 22:37; Mk 12:30; Lk 10:27] accompanied by the mental aspect and deep intelligence (excluded in Deut 6).

At first glance, this seems a secondary facet or even a frill for the qualitative leap from a common religious sense to the existence of wisely and personally configured Faith.

The exact opposite is true: we are children of a Father who does not supplant us, nor does he absorb our potential or energy, depersonalising us.

It is a capital implication of our dignity and promotion - even human - and a specific discriminator in the discernment of Faith in Christ, as opposed to all devotional solutions in search of the Absolute (whatever).

Practicality alone makes us fragile, not very aware; and when we are not convinced, we will not be reliable either, always at the mercy of changing situations and the conformist, fashionable opinion of others.

We not infrequently flee the all-round confrontation that would enrich everyone - precisely because of incompetence.

But we are not one-sided gullible. Being attentive and up-to-date, having the ability to think even critically is a required expansion in the development of one's human, moral, cultural and spiritual vocation.

Trivialities, identifications, impersonal scopiazzature and half-hearted assembly repetitions get in the way of the tide of life, this divine cascade of perennial energy that pulses and does not die down.

On the contrary, it comes with stirring appeals: it calls to open us up to new relationship attractions and other interests, even intellectual; even denominational.

Jesus does not speak of love for God in terms of intimism and sentiment, but of a totally engaging affinity, made less uncertain precisely by the development of our sapiential measure, regarding matters.

Devotion swallows up everything. Faith, on the other hand, does not allow itself to be plagiarised by local or external civilisation: it presupposes an ability to competently enter into personal evaluations or those inherent in the community and overall debate - historical and up-to-date.

The testimony of our Hope does not disdain to allow itself to be enriched by dialogue with those who have greater psychological or biblical expertise, specialised pastoral and social, as well as archaeological, bioethical, economic, scientific and so on.

A commitment that shows true interest in the Sacred [of course, all aspects to be evaluated not as school options].

But it must be admitted that one of the most organic expressions of great Catholic theology is what was once called the 'doctrine' of the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit.

In the existence of Love, the primacy (also relational) of the Gift of the Spirit was recognised, which completed the possibilities of 'natural' expression of the cardinal and theological virtues, bringing them to fullness.

As many as four of the seven Gifts were related to a character of profound knowledge: Wisdom, Intellect, Counsel and Science.

In short: there is still a decisive appointment here for all-round Love.

To indulge in a few jokes along the lines of belief is everyone's domain [individualist or circle], but the ability to enter into it is only of those who have been willing to sift through and experience the issues - because they are more interested in understanding the Face of God and His Design on humanity than in reiterating false narrative certainties.

It would be unnatural to recognise a Master of Heaven who does not come to meet us; as if he towers over us with "his" (to us extrinsic) objective and thus makes everyone marginal.

[In sects - even those with a good-natured appearance - it is forbidden to delve deeper, to understand: the position is already there, the candidate must "only" adapt].

"As (and because) thou art thyself" [sense of the Greek text: Mt 22:39; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27]: it is a new Birth of life, new Genesis in the spirit of Gift.

The paradox suggested by Jesus surpasses the ancient norm of Lev 19:18. 

We love not only the children of our people, "by the fact that" we care to meet and want to enrich ourselves together, expanding the I into the Thou.

God's "Great Command" invests real life and concerns not only the quality of our relationship with the world and our neighbour, but the reflexive global with self.

One should not be afraid of other doctrines and disciplines, neglecting analytical challenges beyond the 'organic' ones - the long-term ones.

They all challenge beliefs, works, one's worldview; language, style, and thought itself.

We still have a great need to broaden our minds and become as vast as a panorama. And reharmonise the opposites we drag in.

Hidden Sides and Pearls to which we have not yet given breath, or visibility - and perhaps never considered Allies.

The troubled fate of the prophets remains unique, but it is not the certainties (ancient, or sophisticated, fashionable, à la page) that are the added value of the adventure of Faith in Love - but rather the risk of putting oneself in the balance and the all-round reworking.

It is then useless to complain, if the ecclesial realities that do not update, and remain in the inherited commonplaces, slowly decay, then disappear.

In spite of their resounding heritage and fabulous events.

In this way, the "doctor of the law" may already be close [Mk 12:34; Lk 10:28] but he still has to keep an eye on Jesus, to understand in Him the more dilated sense of the total gift, in the specifically personalising, which is not naive.

The Lord brings back the sense of the norms to their profound and original function: to become the viaticum of every encounter that raises events, people of all backgrounds, and creation.

In conclusion, experience and ritual have their fulcrum in the reciprocity of love.

Life in all its facets becomes Liturgy more meaningful than the accredited gesture of worship; its truly broken Bread becomes a convincing call to Communion and Mission.

Even if it does not make the headlines, the authentic thermometer of our journey will not be the volume or the pile of important things we do, but a pulsing of regenerated heart and mind.

That is why to the ancient notes of true Love the Son of God adds the quality of thought: we are not gullible, uninformed, one-sided.

Our outstretched hands are the fruit of free and conscious choice. No forced surrender.

"A faith that does not become culture is a faith that is not fully accepted, not entirely thought out, not faithfully lived" [John Paul II].

To internalise and live the message:

What is Great for you? Titles? Having, power, appearing?

What in your experience of Love is the Starting Point, the Centre and the Arrival?

Do you document and update yourself to better correspond to God's Call?

The Word of the Lord, resounding a short while ago in the Gospel, reminded us that the whole divine law is summarized in love. The Evangelist Matthew narrates that after Jesus had answered the Sadducees, silencing them, the Pharisees met to put him to the test (cf. 22: 34-35). One of them, a doctor of law, asked him: "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?" (22: 36). The question makes apparent the concern, present in ancient Jewish tradition, over finding a unifying principle in the various formulations of God's will. This was not an easy question, considering that in the law of Moses, a good 613 precepts and prohibitions are contemplated. How does one discern, among all of these, which is the most important? But Jesus does not hesitate, and readily responds: "You shall love the Lord your God with your all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment" (22: 37-38). Jesus quotes the Shemà in his answer, the prayer the pious Israelite recites several times a day, especially in the morning and in the evening (cf. Dt 6: 4-9; 11: 13-21; Nm 15: 37-41): the proclamation of the integral and total love due to God, as the only Lord. Emphasis is placed on the totality of this dedication to God, listing the three faculties that define man in his deep psychological structures: heart, soul and mind. The word mind, diánoia, contains the rational element. God is not only the object of love, commitment, will and sentiment, but also of the intellect, which should not be excluded from this milieu. Then, however, Jesus adds something which, in truth, had not been asked by the doctor of law: "And a second is like it, You must love your neighbour as yourself" (22: 39). The surprising aspect of Jesus' answer consists in the fact that he establishes a similarity between the first and the second commandments, defined this time too with a biblical formula drawn from the Levitical code of holiness (cf. Lv 19: 18). And thus by the end of the passage the two commandments become connected in the role of a fundamental union upon which all of biblical Revelation rests: "On these two commandments the whole law is based, and the prophets as well" (Mt 22: 40).

The Gospel passage on which we are focusing makes clear that being disciples of Christ means practicing his teachings, which can be summarized in the first and greatest commandment of the divine law, the commandment of love. Even the First Reading, taken from the Book of Exodus, insists on the duty of love; a love witnessed concretely in relationships between persons, which must be relationships of respect, collaboration, generous help. The neighbour to be loved is the stranger, the orphan, the widow and the needy, in other words, those citizens who have no "defender". The holy author goes into details, as in the case of the object pawned by one of these poor persons (cf. Ex 22: 25-26). In this case God himself is the one to vouch for the neighbour's position.

In the Second Reading, we can find a concrete application of the supreme commandment of love in one of the first Christian communities. St Paul writes to the Thessalonians, leading them to understand that, while having known them for such a short time, he appreciates them and holds them dear in his heart. Because of this, he pinpoints them as "a model for all the believers of Macedonia and Achaia" (1 Thes 1: 7). Weaknesses and difficulties are not lacking in this recently founded community, but it is love that surpasses all, renews all, conquers all: the love of those who, knowing their own limits, docilely follow the words of Christ, the divine Teacher, passed down through one of his faithful disciples. "You, in turn, became imitators of us and of the Lord, receiving the word despite great trials, with the joy that comes from the Holy Spirit", the Apostle wrote. He continued: "For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere" (1 Thes 1: 6, 8). The lesson that we can draw from the Thessalonians' experience, an experience that is truly common in every authentic Christian community, is that neighbourly love is born from docile listening to the divine Word. It is a love that will even withstand difficult trials for the truth of the divine Word, and in this way true love grows and truth shines in all its splendour. How important it is to listen to the Word and incarnate it in personal and community life!

[Pope Benedict, Synod of Bishops 26 October 2008]

2. Christ says: "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him..." (Jn 14:23). In the very centre of Christ's teaching lies the great commandment of love. This commandment was already inscribed in the Old Testament tradition, as today's first reading from the book of Deuteronomy testifies.

When the Lord Jesus answers the question of one of the scribes, he goes back to this writing of the divine Law, revealed in the Old Covenant: "Which is the first of all the commandments!" "The first is... You shall love ... the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind, and with all your strength." "And the second is this. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." "There is no other commandment more important than these" (Mk 12:29-31).

3. That interlocutor, who was evoked by St. Mark, accepted Christ's answer with reflection. He accepted it with profound approval. It is necessary for us too, today, to reflect briefly on this 'greatest commandment', in order to accept it again with full approval and deep conviction. First of all, Christ propagates the primacy of love in man's life and vocation. Man's greatest vocation is the call to love. Love also gives the ultimate meaning to human life. It is the essential condition of man's dignity, the proof of the nobility of his soul. St Paul will say that it is "the bond of perfection" (Col 3:14). It is the greatest thing in man's life, because true love carries within itself the dimension of eternity. It is immortal: "charity will never end" we read in the First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13:8). Man dies as far as the body is concerned, because such is the destiny of everyone on earth, but this death does not harm the love that has matured in his life. Of course, it remains above all to bear witness to man before God, who is love. It designates man's place in the Kingdom of God; in the order of the Communion of Saints. The Lord Jesus to his interlocutor in today's Gospel - seeing that he understands the primacy of love among the commandments - says: "You are not far from the kingdom of God) (Mk 12:34).

4. There are two commandments of love - as the Master expressly states in his reply - but love is one. One and identical embraces God and neighbour. God: above all things, for he is above all things. The neighbour: with the measure of man, and therefore 'as himself'.

These 'two loves' are so closely connected that one cannot exist without the other. St John says it elsewhere: 'For whoever does not love his brother whom he sees, cannot love God whom he does not see' (1 John 4:20). Therefore, one love cannot be separated from the other. True love of man, of one's neighbour, therefore, which is true love, is at the same time love of God. This may astonish some. It certainly astonishes. When the Lord Jesus presents his listeners with the vision of the last judgement, reported in St Matthew's Gospel, he says: "I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to visit me" (Matthew 25:35-36).

Then those who hear these words are amazed, for we hear them ask: "Lord, when did we ever do all this to you?". And the answer: 'Truly I say to you, whenever you have done these things to one of the least of these brothers - that is, to your neighbour: to one of men - you have done it to me' (cf. Mt 25:37, 40).

5. This truth is very important for our whole life and behaviour. It is especially important for those who try to love men, but "do not know whether they love God" or even claim not to "know" how to love Him.

This difficulty is easy to explain when one takes into consideration man's entire nature, his entire psychology. It is, in a way, easier for man to love what he sees than what he does not see (cf. 1Jn 4:20).

6. Yet man is called and is called with great firmness, the words of the Lord Jesus testify to this, to love God, to the love that is above all things. If we reflect on this commandment, on the meaning of the words already written in the Old Testament and repeated with such determination by Christ, we must recognise that they tell us much about man himself. They reveal the deepest and, at the same time, definitive perspective of his being, of his humanity. If Christ assigns to man as a task such love, that is, the love of God that he, man, does not see, this means that the human heart conceals within itself the capacity for this love, that the human heart is created 'to measure this love'. Is this not the first truth about man, that he is the image and likeness of God himself? Does not St Augustine speak of the human heart remaining restless until it rests in God? So then, the commandment to love God above all things reveals a scale of man's inner possibilities. This is not an abstract scale. It has been reconfirmed and is constantly being confirmed by all men who take their faith, the fact that they are Christians, seriously. Yet there is no shortage of men who have heroically confirmed this scale of man's inner possibilities.

[Pope John Paul II, homily 4 November 1979]