Raised up and lifted up from themselves, from above and from below

(Jn 8:21-30)

At the end of the first century, the Jews raised quite a few questions concerning the prayerful reading that Christ's disciples made of the events and words of the Master - considered to be the expression of the Word of God and the summit of salvation history.

The theme of misunderstanding about the origin and mission of the Son is dramatised in a controversy in which each side stands on a different ground: belonging to the world of Faith, or to that of religion that encloses the Mystery in what is already known.

To help the faithful deepen their understanding of the Lord's call, in the Johannine communities of Asia Minor, the transmission through catechesis of the extent (and preciousness) of involvement in the life of Faith took place through question-and-answer dialogues.

The inglorious end of Jesus and his destination posed various questions. The text reiterates that the crucial point was the prejudice of the always victorious Face of God.

Tara that prevented them from recognising him in the Son humiliated by the authorities, and in the sons who had followed him, equally defeated... but who considered themselves victorious.

Compared to the world around them, Christians oriented their gestures and words without banal closed-mindedness, to which we too would sometimes like to conform.

And even today - thanks to this drive, Motive and Drive - it is only because of this conviction that we are able to acquire a different vision, and overcome sin.

The term in the singular here in v.21 [cf. "the sin of the world" in Jn 1:29] does not refer to small daily transgressions, but to the (devout) humbling of unbridgeable distances [compared to the crowning of being].

Only the meaning of Jesus' story sweeps away the emptiness of intimate energy aroused by the perception of the creaturely condition - from which descends the inability to correspond to one's intimate vocation.

A lacerating and bizarre inefficiency, because it is induced and sustained precisely by official structures that are paradoxically "worldly" - and by the mentality spread by them, as well as ensured over time.

The same term used in the plural ["sins", in the moral sense] emphasised and reiterated in v.24 alludes to the torment inoculated in people's souls and lives, precisely by the "normal" cloak of pious convictions.

They enclose the path of individual exceptional personalities within a useless, spasmodic search for imperfections, by nature inevitable - with the torment of comparisons with external models.

The result: women and men whose lives stagnate in the strident attempt to overcome the genuine contradictions of their own faces that complete us, with extreme and vacuous expenditure of virtue.

In the sphere of tradition, or rather of custom, in order to identify, correct, and reaffirm (other people's) norms every day, souls are subjected to a regime of retreats that affect both summary conduct and the leading lines of personality.

Such forms of 'government' that are not very inclusive close non-opportunist vocations within themselves, with serious social damage as well: a typical outcome of a climate of people who naively rely on external, mannerist, ethical or intimist ideologies.

In the graniticity of the principles of domination of the beghine structures of sin over individual affairs, the attitude of suspicion of deviance makes the lives of humble and more sensitive people swampy.

Here one risks death - in the very still sands of the sins of return, of addition and gratification, that were originally intended to be exorcised.

Those who embrace the conformity of abstract excellence that wants to re-emerge at all costs - without eminent criteria, nor re-elaboration, and path of personal enhancement with prospects for a critical future - will experience the total reversal of good intentions; then, crazy, sudden thuds.

The swamp of restrained vital powers sets up excellent screens but rots existence, overturning expectations.

It is as if Jesus were saying, "try what a beating you might make by falling from so high up, so you will understand!".

The frame of reference of the leaders of the winning mentality or of ancient devotion, is not the gaze planted on the authentic and full life of the people, but rather the judgmental scrutiny from an already antiquated fashion, without openings.

Basically: the usual or power-assured, stone-hearted and all ready-made one. At hand, as if chiselled down to the tiniest detail - in clichéd institutions, rooted in the territory - representative only of itself.

In this sense, the veteran, experienced leaders had difficulty understanding the meaning of Christ's elevation.

The authentic Messiah was elevated to the 'right hand' of the Eternal One and raised on the Cross - the ultimate Revelation of the 'I Am' or Emmanuel in His Personality, Wisdom, Uniqueness, Future and already Presence.The Crucified One, who in Jn 19:30 and 20:22 delivers the Spirit without temporal delay, radiates the image of the divine "position". And through the bond of Faith he makes us live in his contact; which is of debasement and lowliness, but of weight and prominence - humanising promotion (vv.28-29).

What in the "Son of Man" we also experience within such a founding Relationship with the Father is made explicit precisely in a Confluence, Nucleus, Active Bridge, and Hinge. Liberation and Salvation that enables us to treasure pitfalls, paradoxes, upheavals.

He operates in a reversal of the idea of 'glory', climbing, and supremacy. He operates in a principled opposition (which seems devoutly incomprehensible) between two 'worlds' - the self-styled 'best' of which seeks its redemption at 'the top'.

And yet it creates consternation. It does not yet know how to take life from death.

So the discourse is 'internal': it is about the worldly criteria of judgement on the Lord who trust in themselves, who crush us in the coils of doubt; not against the Jews.

It is for anyone who regrets lost small certainties and - precisely - does not yet know how to take sap from the earth.

The petty world remains that sadly marked by the shrewd, mediocre, saltieri, constantly compromising and conniving with power - as well as the very coffers of the Temple.

For them, that of Jesus and his people who are serious is suicide (v.22), a condition that - in the thinking of the time - would have led to the eternal state of the darkest hell.

Indeed, the Sanctuary seemed a bright, desirable, spiritual and secluded perimeter; instead, it was only separated... from access to life, and to the thought of Heaven - the only fruitful Centre of gravity.

Tremendous vocation, so unheard of and perilous to the point of mortal risk - to arouse indignation, for every ideology of power: that weighs down the spontaneous and mysterious vitality of today, even broken, bitter, downgraded.

In its ambitious and agonistic reality, aiming to prevail [all decorum, pirouettes, opportunism, reputation] the established institution would not succeed in conveying to Christians the specific sense of their Faith. It imposes itself in the heart, even though it seems deplorable.

The worldly gears distorted and rendered unrecognisable the identity of the paradisiacal condition, confused and bartered with that of the one who wins, towers above, receives honours - without any qualitative leap about the authenticity of the One Subject of history.

The Pharisees of all times and creeds still orient themselves on the basis of titles and honours.

The Man-God reflects a different inclination from the expectations of so many sedentary, mundane, mimetic synagogues, who do everything they can to stand up and avoid the low.

"To die in sin" means to close oneself in the criteria that exclude true honour: that of total self-giving - for a further and widespread outcome.

Clear key point of the Son's life, claiming human-divine fullness (v.28).

To the question "Who are you?" Christ answers by giving an appointment of complete Life, on Calvary.

For those of us who feel it pulsating within, the same gratuitousness will not be the impossible fruit of a voluntarist choice, but of discipleship in respect of the personal Vocation - which seeks and makes room for the new kingdom.

Wise discipleship will lead each one from the religious experience of useless and deadly submission to the adventure of Faith in the Lord, with no more qualms that would hinder the journey towards self and neighbour.

With the Son of Man lifted up, we will pass from the dull and deadened life of servants to that of friends, therefore brothers (cf. Jn 13:13; 15:15; 20:17).

To internalise and live the message:

When you are questioned about your identity as a being, do you commit yourself to parading titles and goals?

What does it mean for you to be from down here or up there?

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above”. The words we have just heard in the second reading (Col 3:1-4) invite us to raise our gaze to the reality of Heaven. With the expression “the things that are above” St Paul means Heaven, for he adds: “where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God”. The Apostle is referring to the condition of believers, of those who are “dead” to sin and whose life “is hidden with God in Christ”. They are called to live daily in the lordship of Christ, the principle and fulfilment of all their actions, witnessing to the new life bestowed upon them in Baptism. This renewal in Christ takes place in the heart of each person. While continuing the struggle against sin, it is possible to grow in virtue, attempting to give a full and willing answer to the grace of God.

Inversely, the Apostle indicates later “the things of the earth”. Thus highlighting that life in Christ entails a “choice of field”, a radical renunciation of everything that — like an anchor — ties man to earth, corrupting his soul. The search for the “things that are above” does not mean that Christians must neglect their earthly obligations and duties, rather that they must not get lost in them, as if they had a definitive value. Recalling the realities of Heaven is an invitation to recognize the relativity of what is destined to pass away, in the face of those values that do not know the deterioration of time. It is about working, committing oneself, allowing oneself the proper rest, but with the serene detachment of one who knows that he is only a traveller on the way to the heavenly Homeland; a pilgrim, in a certain sense, a foreigner on the path to Eternity.

[...] the Son of Man must be lifted on the wood of the Cross so that whoever believes in him may have life. St John sees precisely in the mystery of the Cross the moment in which the real glory of Jesus is revealed, the glory of a love that gives itself totally in the passion and death. Thus, paradoxically, from a sign of condemnation, death and failure, the Cross becomes a sign of redemption, life and victory, through faith, the fruits of salvation can be gathered.

[...] God approached man in love, even to the total gift, crossing the threshold of our ultimate solitude, throwing himself into the abyss of our extreme abandonment, going beyond the door of death. The object and beneficiary of divine love is the world, namely, humanity. It is a word that erases completely the idea of a distant God alien to man's journey and reveals, rather, his true face. He gave us his Son out of love, to be the near God, to make us feel his presence, to come to meet us and carry us in his love so that the whole of life might be enlivened by this divine love. The Son of man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give life. 

God does not domineer but loves without measure. He does not express his omnipotence in punishment, but in mercy and in forgiveness. Understanding all this means entering into the mystery of salvation. Jesus came to save, not to condemn; with the sacrifice of the Cross he reveals the loving face of God. Precisely by faith in the abundant love that has been given to us in Christ Jesus, we know that even the smallest force of love is greater than the greatest destructive force, which can transform the world, and by this same faith we can have the “reliable hope”, in eternal life and in the resurrection of the flesh.

[Pope Benedict, homily in the Papal Chapel 4 November 2010]

1. Glory to you, Word of God!

This greeting is repeated daily in the liturgy of Lent. It precedes the reading of the Gospel, and testifies that the time of Lent is in the life of the Church a time of special concentration on the Word of God. This concentration was linked - especially in the early centuries - to the preparation for Baptism on Easter night, for which the Catechumens were prepared with increasing intensity.

However, it is not only in consideration of Baptism and the Catechumenate that Lent stimulates such intense concentration on the Word of God. The need arises from the very nature of the liturgical season, that is, from the depth of the Mystery into which the Church enters from the very beginning of Lent.

The mystery of God reaches minds and hearts first and foremost through the Word of God. We are, in fact, in the period of "initiation" into Easter, which is the central mystery of Christ, as well as of the faith and life of those who confess him.

I am glad that at this time, also this year, I am given to bring my personal contribution to the pastoral care of the university environment in Rome. I extend a cordial welcome to all those present: Professors, Students and guests who come from outside Rome.

I would like to remind you, on this occasion, that the problems concerning the presence of the Church in the university world of our City, the problems of the specific academic pastoral care were this year the theme of the meeting of the clergy of the diocese of Rome at the beginning of Lent. Together with my brothers in the episcopate and in the presbyterate, who share with me the pastoral solicitude for the three million citizens of the Rome of the 1980s, I was able to listen to various voices of professors, students, representatives of the individual academic circles and movements, as well as their ecclesiastical assistants, who illustrated numerous problems concerning the important task of the Church of Rome in this area.

I hope that this task can be carried out in an ever more mature and fruitful manner.

2. Praise to you, Word of God!

This word in the Liturgy of the penultimate week of Lent becomes particularly intense and, I would say, particularly dramatic. The readings from the Gospel of St John emphasise this in a special way.

Christ, conversing with the Pharisees, ever more clearly says Who he is, Who sent him, and his words are not accepted. And more and more, through the increasing tension of questions and answers, the end of this process is also outlined: the death of the prophet of Nazareth.

"Who are you?" (Jn 8:25), they ask him as they once asked John the Baptist.

This question brings with it that eternal messianic restlessness, in which Israel had participated for generations, and which in the generation of that time seemed still to have increased in power.

- Who are you?

- "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know..." (Jn 8:28).

3. It seems that the key concept of today's Liturgy of the Word of God is that of "elevation".

During Israel's pilgrimage through the desert, Moses "made a serpent of copper and put it on a staff" (Numbers 21:9). He did this at the Lord's command when his people were being bitten by poisonous snakes "and a great number of the Israelites died" (Nm 21:6). When Moses put the copper serpent on the pole, whoever was bitten by the snakes, when he looked at it, "remained alive" (Nm 21:9).

That copper serpent became the figure of Christ "lifted up" on the cross. Exegetes see in it the symbolic announcement of the fact that man, who with faith looks upon the cross of Christ, "remains alive". He remains alive...: and life means the victory over sin and the state of grace in the human soul.

4. Christ says: "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know...": you will know, you will find the answer to this question that you now put to me, not trusting in the words that I say to you.

The "lifting up" through the Cross is in a certain sense the key to knowing the whole truth, which Christ proclaimed. The Cross is the threshold, through which man will be allowed to approach this reality that Christ reveals. To reveal means "to make known", "to make present".

Christ reveals the Father. Through him the Father becomes present in the human world.

"When you have raised up the Son of man, then you will know that I am and do nothing of myself, but as the Father has taught me, so I speak" (Jn 8:28).

Christ refers to the Father as the ultimate source of the truth he proclaims: "He who sent me is true, and I tell the world the things I have heard from him" (Jn 8:26).

And finally: "He who sent me is with me and has not left me alone, because I always do those things that are pleasing to him" (Jn 8:29).In these words is revealed before us that limitless solitude, which Christ must experience on the Cross, in his "elevation". This solitude will begin during the prayer in Gethsemane - which must have been a true spiritual agony - and will be completed at the crucifixion. Then Christ will cry out: "Elí, Elí, lemà sabactàni", "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mt 27:46).

Now, however, as if anticipating those hours of terrible loneliness, Christ says: "He who sent me is with me and has not left me alone...". As if to say, in the first place: even in this supreme abandonment I shall not be alone! I shall then fulfil that which "is pleasing to Him", that which is the Father's Will! and I shall not be alone!

- And, further: the Father will not leave me in the hand of death, for in the Cross is the beginning of the Resurrection. Precisely for this reason, "crucifixion" will ultimately become "elevation": "Then you will know that I am. Then, too, you will know that "I say to the world the things that I have heard from him".

5. The crucifixion truly becomes the elevation of Christ. In the Cross is the beginning of the resurrection.

Therefore, the Cross becomes the definitive measure of all things, which stand between God and man. Christ measures them precisely by this yardstick.

In today's Gospel we hear what he says: "You are of here, I am of there; you are of this world, I am not of this world" (Jn 18:23).

The dimension of the world is, in a sense, set against the dimension of God. In the conversation with Pilate Christ will also say: "My kingdom is not of this world" (Jn 18:36).

The dimension of the world meets the dimension of God precisely in the Cross: in the Cross and Resurrection.

That is why the cross becomes that ultimate yardstick by which Christ measures. It becomes the central point of reference. The dimension of the world is in it definitively referred to the dimension of the Living God. And the Living God meets the world in the cross. He meets through the death of Christ.

This encounter is totally for man.

Why - we sometimes ask ourselves - did that encounter of the Living God with man take place on the Cross? Why did it have to take place like that?

Christ, in today's conversation, gives the answer: "For if you do not believe that I am, you will die in your sins" (Jn 18:24).

Above the dimension of the world is placed the dimension of sin.... This is precisely why God's encounter with the world is accomplished in the cross.

There is a need for the Cross and death, so that man "does not die in his own sins".

There is a need for the Cross and resurrection, so that man believes in Christ, so that he accepts this 'world' that he reveals through himself.

In Christ, the Living God is revealed to man. God the Father.

Not only that: in Christ the mystery of man himself is revealed to man - is revealed to the very depths.

6. We must learn to measure the problems of the world, and especially the problems of man, by the yardstick of the Cross and Resurrection of Christ.

Being Christian means living in the light of Christ's paschal mystery. And to find in it a fixed point of reference for what is in man, for what is among men, what makes up the history of humanity and the world.

Man, looking within himself, also discovers - as Christ says in the dialogue with the Pharisees - what is 'from down here' and what is 'from up there'. Man discovers within himself (this is a perennial experience) the man 'up there' and the man 'down here': not two men, but almost two dimensions of the same man; of the man, who is each one of us: me, you, him, her...

And each one of us - if he looks inside himself carefully, self-critically, if he tries to see himself in truth - will know how to say what in him belongs to the man "down here", and what belongs to the man "up there". He will know how to call him by name. He will know how to confess him.

And finally: in each of us there is a certain spontaneous tendency to tend from the man "down here" to the man "up there". This is a natural aspiration. Unless we stifle it, we do not trample it within us.

It is an aspiration. If we cooperate with it, this aspiration develops and becomes the engine of our life.

Christ teaches us how to cooperate with it. How to develop and deepen what is 'from up there' in man, and how to weaken and overcome what is 'from down here'.

Christ teaches us this by his Gospel and by his personal example.

The Cross becomes a living measure here. It becomes the point of reference, through which the lives of millions of men pass from what is "down here" to what is "up there".

The Cross and the Resurrection: the paschal mystery of Christ.

7. The first, elementary method of this passage is prayer.

When man prays, in a certain sense he spontaneously turns towards the One who offers him the dimension "up there". With this, he distances himself from what, in himself, is "down here". Prayer is an inner movement. It is a movement that decides the development of the whole human personality. Of the direction of life.With what clarity does the Psalm of today's Liturgy give expression to this theme!

"Lord, hear my prayer, / to thee may my cry come; / hide not thy face from me; / in the day of my distress / bend thine ear towards me; / when I call upon thee: quickly, answer me" (Ps 102 [101]:1-3).

Man lives in search of the "face of God", which is hidden before him in the darkness "of the world". Yet, in the same "world" he can discover the footprints of God. All that is needed is for him to start praying. Let him pray. Let him move from what is "down here" to what is "up there". Let him, together with prayer, discover in himself the way from the man "down here" to the man "up there".

My beloved ones! In the name of the Crucified and Risen Lord, I ask you: pray! love prayer!

8. Glory to you, Word of God!

May the love of prayer become in each of us the fruit of listening to the Word of God.

"The seed is the Word of God, the sower, Christ; everyone who finds it will last for ever," proclaims a liturgical text.

The seed is the seed of life. It contains within itself the whole plant. It conceals the ear for the harvest and the future bread.

The Word of God is such a seed for human souls. The sower of it is Christ.

Let us pray that from the seed of Christ's word this Life, to which man is called in Christ, will be born in us anew. Called "from above".

This Life is born in the sacraments of faith. It is born first in Baptism and then in the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Christ is not only the One who proclaims the Word of God. He is the One who gives Life in this Word.

A new Life.

Such is the power of the words: 'I baptise you'.

Such also is the power of the words: 'I absolve you... go in peace'. Go! In the direction from what is in you "down here" to what is "up there". Once again, go!

And finally the power of the Eucharistic words: "Eat and drink, all of you". He who eats... will live. He shall live for ever.

Let us look, dear brothers and sisters, at the "elevation" of Christ. Let us look through the prism of the cross and resurrection at our humanity. Let us accept the invitation contained in Christ's paschal mystery. Let us accept the Word and the Life. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, homily for university students in preparation for Easter, Rome 30 March 1982]

Making "the sign of the cross" distractedly and flaunting "the symbol of Christians" as if it were "the badge of a team" or "an ornament", perhaps with "precious stones, jewels and gold", has nothing to do with "the mystery" of Christ. So much so that Pope Francis suggested an examination of conscience precisely on the cross, to verify how each of us carries the only true "instrument of salvation" in our daily lives. Here are the lines of reflection that the Pontiff proposed in the Mass celebrated Tuesday morning, 4 April, at Santa Marta.

"It attracts attention," he noted immediately, referring to the passage from the evangelist John (8:21-30), "that in this brief passage of the Gospel three times Jesus says to the doctors of the law, to the scribes, to some Pharisees: 'You will die in your sins'". He repeats this "three times". And "he says this," he added, "because they did not understand the mystery of Jesus, because their hearts were closed and they were not capable of opening a little, of trying to understand that mystery that was the Lord". In fact, the Pope explained, 'to die in one's sin is an ugly thing: it means that everything ends there, in the filth of sin'.

But then "this dialogue - in which three times Jesus repeats 'you will die in your sins' - continues and, at the end, Jesus looks back at the history of salvation and reminds them of something: 'When you have raised up the son of man, then you will know that I am and that I do nothing of myself'". The Lord says precisely: "when you have lifted up the son of man".

With these words - said the Pontiff, referring to the passage from the book of Numbers (21, 4-9) - "Jesus brings to mind what happened in the desert and what we heard in the first reading". It is the moment when "the bored people, the people who cannot endure the journey, turn away from the Lord, spit on Moses and the Lord, and find those snakes that bite and cause death". Then "the Lord tells Moses to make a bronze serpent and raise it up, and the person who suffers a wound from the serpent, and who looks at the bronze one, will be healed".

"The serpent," the Pope continued, "is the symbol of the evil one, it is the symbol of the devil: it was the most cunning of animals in the earthly paradise. Because "the serpent is the one who is capable of seducing with lies", he is "the father of lies: this is the mystery". But then "must we look to the devil to save us? The serpent is the father of sin, the one who made mankind sin". In reality, "Jesus says: 'When I am lifted up on high, all will come to me'. Obviously this is the mystery of the cross".

"The bronze serpent healed," Francis said, "but the bronze serpent was a sign of two things: of the sin made by the serpent, of the serpent's seduction, of the serpent's cunning; and also it was a sign of the cross of Christ, it was a prophecy. And "that is why the Lord says to them: 'When you have lifted up the son of man, then you will know that I am'". So we can say, said the Pope, that "Jesus 'became a serpent', Jesus 'became sin' and took upon himself the filth all of humanity, the filth all of sin. And he 'became sin', he made himself lifted up for all people to look upon, people wounded by sin, us. This is the mystery of the cross and Paul says it: 'He became sin' and took on the appearance of the father of sin, the cunning serpent'.

"Whoever did not look upon the bronze serpent after being wounded by a serpent in the desert," the Pontiff explained, "died in sin, the sin of murmuring against God and against Moses". In the same way, 'whoever does not recognise in that uplifted man, like the serpent, the power of God who became sin in order to heal us, will die in his own sin'. Because 'salvation comes only from the cross, but from this cross that is God made flesh: there is no salvation in ideas, there is no salvation in good will, in the desire to be good'. In reality, the Pope insisted, "the only salvation is in Christ crucified, because only he, as the bronze serpent meant, was able to take all the poison of sin and healed us there".

"But what is the cross for us?" is the question posed by Francis. "Yes, it is the sign of Christians, it is the symbol of Christians, and we make the sign of the cross but we don't always do it well, sometimes we do it like this... because we don't have this faith to the cross," the Pope pointed out. The cross, then, he said, "for some people is a badge of belonging: 'Yes, I wear the cross to show that I am a Christian'". And 'it looks good', however, 'not only as a badge, as if it were a team, the badge of a team'; but, Francis said, 'as a memory of the one who became sin, who became the devil, the serpent, for us; he lowered himself to the point of total annihilation'.Moreover, it is true, 'others carry the cross as an ornament, they carry crosses with precious stones, to be seen'. But, the Pontiff pointed out, "God said to Moses: 'He who looks at the serpent will be healed'; Jesus says to his enemies: 'When you have lifted up the son of man, then you will know'". In essence, he explained, 'those who do not look upon the cross, thus, in faith, die in their sins, will not receive that salvation'.

"Today," the Pope relaunched, "the Church proposes to us a dialogue with this mystery of the cross, with this God who became sin, out of love for me". And "each of us can say: 'out of love for me'". So, he continued, it is appropriate to ask ourselves: 'How do I carry the cross: as a reminder? When I make the sign of the cross, am I aware of what I am doing? How do I carry the cross: only as a symbol of belonging to a religious group? How do I carry the cross: as an ornament, like a jewel with many golden precious stones?". Or "have I learnt to carry it on my shoulders, where it hurts?".

"Each one of us today," the Pontiff suggested at the conclusion of his meditation, "look at the crucifix, look at this God who became sin so that we might not die in our sins, and answer these questions that I have suggested to you.

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 05/04/2017]

Spark of beauty and humanism, or no future

(Jn 8:12-20)

In all religions the term Light is used as a metaphor for the forces of good.

On the lips of Jesus [present in his intimates] the same word indicates a fulfillment of humanity (even of the religious institution) according to the divine plan, recognizable in his Person.

The distinction between Light and darkness in Christ is in some way not comparable to the more conventional dualistic binomial - about good and evil. The activity of the Creator is multifaceted.

The evangelical term therefore doesn’t designate any static nature of fixed judgment.

Not infrequently the most precious things arise precisely from what disturbs standardized thinking.

The same mind that believes it’s in the light only, is a one-sided, partial, sick mind; linked to an idea, therefore poor.

God knows that it’s incompleteness that launches the Exodus, it can be insecurities that keep us from bumping into models... which make us lose what we are.

The energies that invest the created reality have in fact a totally positive potential root.

The sunsets prepare other paths, ambivalences give rise to impossible recovery, and growths.

«Light» was in Judaism the term that designated the straight way of humanity according to the Law, without eccentricity or decline.

But with Jesus it’s no longer the Torah that acts as a guide, but life itself [Jn 1,4: «Life was the Light of men»] which is characterized by its different complexity.

Thus, even the «world» - that is (in Jn) above all the whole of the institution - must return to a wiser Guide, which illuminates real existence.

During the Feast of Booths [Sukkot], huge street lamps were lit in the courtyards of the Temple of Jerusalem.

One of the main rites consisted in setting up a wonderful nocturnal procession with the torches on - and in making the large lamps shine.

They surpassed the walls and illuminated all of Jerusalem.

It was the appropriate context for proclaiming the Person of Christ himself as an authentic sacred and humanizing Word, a place of encounter with God and «Light of the world».

Nothing external and rhetorical-all-appearance.

Therefore the Master stands out - with contrary evidence - precisely in the place of the Treasury [real gravity center of the Temple, v.20] as the only real extreme Point that pierces the darkness.

The Lord invites us to make his own acutely missionary journey: from the stone shrine to the heart of flesh, free like that of the Father.

Clear Appeal and intimate Question that never goes out: we feel it burn alive without being consumed.

There is no need to fear: the Envoy is not alone.

He doesn’t testify himself, nor his own manias or utopian imbalances: his Call by Name becomes a divine Presence - Aurora, Support, Friendship and unequivocal, invincible leap, which dispel the darkness.

It spurts ‘from the core’ taking on the same shadows, and being reborn; bringing our dark sides near the ‘roots’.

[Monday 5th week of Lent (year C), April 7, 2025]

Spark of beauty and humanism, or no future

(Jn 8:12-20)

In all religions the term Light is used as a metaphor for the forces of good.

On the lips of Jesus [present in his intimates] the same word stands for a fulfilment of humanity (even of the religious institution) according to the divine plan, recognisable in his own Person.

The distinction between light and darkness in Christ is somehow not comparable to the more conventional dualist binomial - about good and evil. The Creator's activity is multifaceted.

The evangelical term therefore does not designate any static fixed judgement on what is usually assessed as 'torch' or 'shadow', 'correct' or 'wrong' and so on.

There is room for new perceptions and reworkings. Nor are we always called upon to fight against everything else, and the passions.

Classical moral, pious or general religious evaluations must be overcome, because they remain on the surface and do not grasp the core of being and becoming humanising.

Not infrequently, the most valuable things arise precisely from what disturbs standardised thinking.

The same mind that believes it is only in the light is a one-sided, partial, sick mind; bound to an idea, therefore poor.

God knows that it is the incompletenesses that launch the Exodus, it can be the insecurities that keep us from crashing into the patterns... that make us lose who we are.

In fact, the energies that invest created reality have an entirely positive potential root.

Sunsets prepare other paths, ambivalences give the 'la' to impossible recoveries and growths.

"Light" was in Judaism the term that designated the righteous path of humanity according to the Law, without eccentricity or decline.

But with Jesus, it is no longer the Torah that acts as a guide, but life itself [Jn 1:4: "Life was the Light of men"] that is characterised by its varying complexity.

Thus, even the "world" - that is, (in Jn) first and foremost the complex of the institution (so pious and devout) now installed and corrupted: it must return to a more wise Guide, one that illuminates real existence.

The appeal that Scripture addresses to us is very practical and concrete.

But in contexts with a strong structure of mediation between God and man, spirituality often tends towards the legalism of customary fulfilments.

Jesus is not for grand parades, nor for solutions that cloak people's lives in mysticism, escapism, rituals or abstinence.

All of this was perhaps also the fabric of much of medieval spirituality - and the assiduous, ritualistic, beghine spirituality of days gone by.

But in the Bible, God's servants do not have haloes. They are women and men normally inserted in society, people who know the problems of everyday life: work, family, bringing up children....

The professionals of the sacred, on the other hand, try to put a pretty dress on very ungodly things - sometimes cunning minds and perverse hearts. Cultivated behind the magnificent respectability of screens and incense.

To do this, Jesus understands that he must drive out both merchants and customers (Jn 2:13-25) and supplant the fatuous glow of the great sanctuary.

During the Feast of Tabernacles, huge street lamps were lit in the courtyards of the Temple in Jerusalem.

One of the main rituals consisted in staging an admirable night procession with lit fairies - and in making the great lamps shine (they rose above the walls and illuminated the whole of Jerusalem).

It was the appropriate context to proclaim the very Person of Christ as the authentic sacred and humanising Word, the place of encounter with God and the torch of life. There was nothing external and rhetorical about it.

But in that "holy world" marked by the intertwining of epic, religion, power and interest, the Master stands out - with contrary evidence - precisely in the place of the Treasury (the real centre of gravity of the Temple, v.20) as the true and only Extreme Point that pierces the darkness.

The Lord invites us to make our own his own sharply missionary path: from the shrine of stone to the heart of flesh, as free as that of the Father.

Clear call and intimate question that never goes out: we feel it burning alive without being consumed.

There is no need to fear: the Envoy is not alone. He does not testify to himself, nor to his own foibles or utopian derangements: his Calling by Name becomes divine Presence - Origin, Path, authentic "Return".

Do we look like pilgrims and exiles who do not know how to be in "the world"? But each of us is (in Faith) like Him-and-the-Father: overwhelming majority.

By Faith, in the authentic Light: Dawn, Support, Friendship and unequivocal, invincible leap, which rips through the haze.

It bursts from the core, assuming the same shadows and being reborn; bringing our dark sides alongside the roots.

Intimate place and time (outside of all ages) from which the outgoing Church springs forth: here it is from the jewels and sacristies, to the peripheries Spark of beauty and humanism, or without a future

And from the sacred society of the outside, to the hidden Pearl that genuinely connects the present with the 'timelessness' of the Free - even if here and there it undermines so much theology with its preceptistic, greedy and cunning meaning, neither plural nor transparent.

In the end, it is all simple: the full wellbeing and integrity of man is more important than the one-sided 'good' of doctrine and institution - which advocates it without even believing in it.

To internalise and live the message:

In what situations do I consider myself a "Witness"?

What is the torch in my steps? Who is my Present Light?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Pope Benedict, Vigil in Freiburg 24 September 2011]+

4. The aspiration that humanity nurtures, amid countless injustices and sufferings, is the hope of a new civilization marked by freedom and peace. But for such an undertaking, a new generation of builders is needed. Moved not by fear or violence but by the urgency of genuine love, they must learn to build, brick by brick, the city of God within the city of man.

Allow me, dear young people, to consign this hope of mine to you: you must be those "builders"! You are the men and women of tomorrow. The future is in your hearts and in your hands. God is entrusting to you the task, at once difficult and uplifting, of working with him in the building of the civilization of love.

5. From the Letter of John – the youngest of the apostles, and maybe for that very reason the most loved by the Lord – we have listened to these words: "God is light and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn1:5). But, John observes, no one has ever seen God. It is Jesus, the only Son of the Father, who has revealed him to us (cf. Jn 1:18). And if Jesus has revealed God, he has revealed the light. With Christ in fact "the true light that enlightens every man" (Jn 1:9) has come into the world.

Dear young people, let yourselves be taken over by the light of Christ, and spread that light wherever you are. "The light of the countenance of Jesus – says the Catechism of the Catholic Church – illumines the eyes of our heart and teaches us to see everything in the light of his truth and his compassion for all" (No. 2715).

If your friendship with Christ, your knowledge of his mystery, your giving of yourselves to him, are genuine and deep, you will be "children of the light", and you will become "the light of the world". For this reason I repeat to you the Gospel words: "Let your light so shine before others, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Mt 5:16).

[Pope John Paul II, Vigil at Downsview WYD Toronto 27 July 2002]

This passage from the Gospel of John (cf. 12:44-50) shows us the intimacy there was between Jesus and the Father. Jesus did what the Father told Him to do. And therefore He says: “He who believes in me, believes not in me but in Him who sent me” (v. 44). He then explains His mission: “I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (v. 46). He presents himself as light. Jesus’s mission is to enlighten: light. He himself said: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12). The Prophet Isaiah prophesied this light: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (9:1). The promise of the light that will enlighten the people. And the mission of the Apostles too was to bring light. Paul said to King Agrippa: “I was chosen to enlighten, to bring this light – which is not mine, but another’s – but to bring light” (cf. Acts 26:18). It is Jesus’s mission: to bring light. And the mission of the Apostles was to bring the light of Jesus. To enlighten. Because the world was in darkness.

But the tragedy of Jesus’s light is that it was rejected. From the beginning of the Gospel, John said it clearly: “He came to His own home, and His own people did not welcome Him. They loved darkness more than light' (cf. Jn 1:9-11). Being accustomed to darkness, living in darkness: they did not know how to accept the light, they could not; they were slaves to darkness. And this would be Jesus’s continuous battle: to enlighten, to bring the light that shows things as they are, as they exist; it shows freedom, it shows truth, it shows the path on which to go with the light of Jesus.

Paul had this experience of the passage from darkness to light, when the Lord encountered him on the road to Damascus. He was blinded. Blind. The Lord’s light blinded him. And then, when a few days had passed, with baptism, he regained the light (cf. Acts 9:1-19). He had this experience of passing from darkness, in which he was, to the light. And our passage too, which we received sacramentally in Baptism: for this reason Baptism was called, in the first centuries, the Illumination (cf. Saint Justin, Apology I, 61, 12), because it gave you the light, it “let it enter” you. For this reason, in the ceremony of Baptism we give a lit blessed candle, a lit candle to the mother and father, because the little boy or the little girl is enlightened.

Jesus brings light. But the people, His people rejected it. They were so accustomed to the darkness that the light blinded them, they did not know where to go… (cf. Jn 1:1-11). And this is the tragedy of our sin: sin blinds us and we cannot tolerate the light. Our eyes are sick. And Jesus clearly states it in the Gospel of Matthew: “If your eye is not sound, your whole body will be unsound. If your eye sees only darkness, how great is the darkness within you!” (cf. Mt 6:22-23). Darkness… And conversion is passing from darkness to light.

But what are the things that sicken the eyes, the eyes of faith? Our eyes are ill: what are the things that “drag them down”, that blind them? Vices, the worldly spirit, pride. The vices that “drag you down” and also these three things – vices, pride, the worldly spirit – lead you to associate with others in order to remain secure in the darkness. We often speak of “mafias”: this is it. But there are “spiritual mafias”; there are “domestic mafias”, always, seeking someone else so as to cover yourself and remain in darkness. It is not easy to live in the light. The light shows many ugly things within us that we do not want to see: vices, sins… Let us think about our vices; let us think about our pride; let us think about our worldly spirit: These things blind us; they distance us from Jesus’s light.

But if we start to think about these things, we will not find a wall, no. We will find a way out, because Jesus Himself says that He is the light, and also: “I have come into the world not to condemn the world, but to save the world” (cf. Jn 12:46-47). Jesus Himself, the light, says: “Take courage: let yourself be enlightened; let yourself see what you have within, because I have come to lead you forth, to save you. I do not condemn you. I save you” (cf. v. 47). The Lord saves us from the darkness we have within, from the darkness of daily life, of social life, of political life, of national, international life… There is so much darkness within. And the Lord saves us. But He asks us to see them, first; to have the courage to see our darkness so that the Lord's light may enter and save us.

Let us not fear the Lord: He is very good; He is meek; He is close to us. He has come to save us. Let us not be afraid of the light of Jesus.

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily 6 May 2020]

(Jn 8:1-11)

Every day at sunrise, from the Mount of Olives, by contemplating the Temple, the people recited the Shema’ Israel, and so did Jesus.

Like many, he spent his nights in a cave, outdoors (Lk 21:37-38; Jn 8:1-2), then he went to Solomon's portico to teach.

A new Day begins. The confrontation with the sinful woman who represents us, activates a new Aurora.

The adulterer and the adulteress had to be put to death (Dt 22:22-24): why is no there the male accomplice one?

In many biblical passages, the 'woman' is a collective parable - here evoked for a catechesis against the traditionalist prosecutors who were also coming forward in the early communities.

[They don’t sleep at night, in order to spy on others and accuse them of their sins]. But there is a new ‘dawn’ (v.2) on the face of God.

In the whole scene the true accused is Jesus and his idea of ​​Justice, irregular. He doesn’t allow the “gendarmes” to isolate persons.

Whoever makes a mistake or is unsteady, isn’t marked for life.

We are bent over by weights and can hardly stand up. Therefore, divine action unmasks the old fanatical wigs, not at all innocent.

The conciliatory and reflexive attitude turns the accusations right back on the veterans of the rules, who let the stones fall from their hands only when unmasked.

However, it’s a theology passage, not a gossip piece.

In bygone leaders who like to organize trials even internal ones, there is sometimes no honesty: it’s better that in the House of God they avoid being judges and accusers, and go back to their homes.

Incredible then that Jesus doesn’t make sure that the woman is repentant, before forgiving her! In this the Son of God violates the Law, Tradition, the common way of thinking and teaching catechism!

His most incriminated sentence is a bomb, which has created embarrassment for centuries: «Stop hurting yourself, but I do not condemn you!»"  [sense of v.11].

The ‘living’ and true God proceeds without inquiries and penitential torments: he puts us back on our feet.

Therefore He doesn’t want to have anything in common with the unexceptionable who cunningly shield themselves with ancient norms to annoy (and project their own defects onto others, in order to exorcise them).

That’s why the Lord’s Finger on the ‘stone slabs’ of the esplanade of the Jerusalem’s Temple!

A clear accusation to the censors still accustomed to the Decalogue of the No […], who remained at the age of Sinai: opinionated and deadly ones, devoid of the flesh and Spirit ‘heart’ - corpses calibrated at room temperature.

Throughout the scene, Jesus - figure of the new Justice of the Father - remains crouched on the ground [cf. Greek text], threatened by those who are on top of him to accuse or take him hostage.

He remains subjected even to the adulteress reduced to silence, because the request for mercy is authentic even when it remains only implicit.

And in any case, Christ relates to each of us without incumbent upon. Looking at us all from below!

Here is the difference between Faith approach and assessments of trivial religiosity. The qualitative leap between Finger on the stone slabs, and the Looking on the persons.

To internalize and live the message:

In what situations did you consider: "Justice is done"?

On what occasions have you experienced divine judgment as understanding and mercy?

 [5th ​​Sunday in Lent (year C), 6 April 2025]