1. "The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand" (Mk 1:15). With these words Jesus of Nazareth begins his messianic preaching. The kingdom of God, which in Jesus breaks into human life and history, constitutes the fulfilment of the promises of salvation, which Israel had received from the Lord.

Jesus reveals himself as Messiah not because he aims at temporal and political dominion according to the conception of his contemporaries, but because with his mission, which culminates in the passion - death - resurrection, "all the promises of God have become 'yes'" (2 Cor 1:20).

2. To fully understand the mission of Jesus, it is necessary to recall the message of the Old Testament that proclaims the salvific kingship of the Lord. In the canticle of Moses (Ex 15:1-18), the Lord is acclaimed "king" because he has admirably delivered his people and led them, with power and love, to communion with him and with their brothers and sisters in the joy of freedom. The very ancient Psalm 28/29 also testifies to the same faith: the Lord is contemplated in the power of his kingship, which dominates all creation and communicates to his people strength, blessing and peace (Ps 29:10). It is above all in the vocation of Isaiah that faith in the Lord 'king' appears totally permeated by the theme of salvation. The "King", whom the prophet contemplates with the eyes of faith "on a high and lofty throne" (Is 6:1), is God in the mystery of his transcendent holiness and his merciful goodness with which he makes himself present to his people, as the source of love that purifies, forgives and saves: "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord, God of hosts, all the earth shall be full of his glory" (Is 6:3).

This faith in the Lord's saving kingship prevented monarchy from developing in the covenant people as it did among the other nations: the king is the chosen one, the Lord's anointed one, and, as such, is the instrument through which God himself exercises his sovereignty over Israel (cf. 1 Sam 12:12-15). "The Lord reigns," the psalms continuously proclaim (cf. Ps 5:3; 9:6; 29:10; 93:1; 97:1-4; 146:10).

3. Faced with the painful experience of human limitations and sin, the prophets announce a new covenant, in which the Lord himself will be the salvific and kingly leader of his renewed people (cf. Jer 31:31-34; Ez 34:7-16; 36:24-28).

In this context arises the expectation of a new David, whom the Lord will raise up to be the instrument of exodus, of deliverance, of salvation (Ez 34:23-25; cf. Jer 23:5-6). From this moment on, the figure of the Messiah will appear in intimate relationship with the inauguration of the full kingship of God.

After the exile, even though the institution of the monarchy disappears in Israel, faith in the kingship that God exercises in his people continues to deepen and will extend to the "ends of the earth". The psalms singing the Lord King constitute the most significant testimony of this hope (cf. Ps 96 and Ps 99).

This hope touches its maximum intensity when the gaze of faith, directing itself beyond the time of human history, will understand that only in the future eternity will the kingdom of God be established in all its power: then, through the resurrection, the redeemed will be in full communion of life and love with the Lord (cf. Dn 7:9-10; 12:2-3).

4. Jesus refers to this Old Testament hope and proclaims it fulfilled. The kingdom of God constitutes the central theme of his preaching as the parables in particular show.

The parable of the sower (Mt 13:3-8) proclaims that the kingdom of God is already at work in Jesus' preaching, and at the same time directs one to look forward to the abundance of fruit that will constitute the superabundant wealth of the Kingdom at the end of time. The parable of the seed that grows by itself (Mk 4:26-29) emphasises that the Kingdom is not a human work, but solely the gift of God's love that acts in the hearts of believers and guides human history to its ultimate fulfilment in eternal communion with the Lord. The parable of the tares in the midst of the wheat (Mt 13:24-30) and the parable of the fishing net (Mt 13:47-52) point first of all to the presence, already at work, of God's salvation. Together with the "children of the Kingdom", however, there are also present the "children of the Evil One", the workers of iniquity: only at the end of history will the powers of evil be destroyed and those who have welcomed the Kingdom will always be with the Lord. Finally, the parables of the hidden treasure and the precious pearl (Mt 13:44-46) express the supreme and absolute value of the kingdom of God: those who understand it are willing to face any sacrifice and renunciation to enter it.

5. A very enlightening richness appears from Jesus' teaching.

The kingdom of God, in its full and total realisation, is certainly future, "it must come" (cf. Mk 9:1; Lk 22:18); the prayer of the Lord's Prayer teaches to invoke its coming: "Thy Kingdom come" (Mt 6:10).At the same time, however, Jesus affirms that the kingdom of God "has already come" (Mt 12:28), "is in your midst" (Lk 17:21) through Jesus' preaching and works. Moreover, from the entire New Testament it appears that the Church, founded by Jesus, is the place where God's kingship is made present, in Christ, as a gift of salvation in faith, of new life in the Spirit, of communion in charity.

Thus the intimate relationship between the Kingdom and Jesus appears, a relationship so strong that the kingdom of God can also be called "the kingdom of Jesus" (Eph 5:5; 2 Pet 1:11), as Jesus himself affirms before Pilate, asserting that "his" kingdom is not of this world (Jn 18:36).

6. In this light we can understand the conditions that Jesus indicates for entering the Kingdom. They can be summed up in the word "conversion". Through conversion man opens himself to the gift of God (cf. Lk 12:32), who "calls to his kingdom and to his glory" (1 Thess 2:12); he welcomes the Kingdom like a child (Mk 10:15) and is willing to make any renunciation in order to enter it (cf. Lk 18:29; Mt 19:29; Mk 10:29).

The Kingdom of God demands a deep or new "righteousness" (Mt 5:20); it requires commitment to do the "will of God" (Mt 7:21); it demands inner simplicity "like a child" (Mt 18:3; Mk 10:15); it involves overcoming the obstacle of riches (cf. Mk 10:23-24).

7. The beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus (cf. Mt 5:3-12) appear as the "magna charta" of the kingdom of heaven that is given to the poor in spirit, the afflicted, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those persecuted for the sake of righteousness. The beatitudes do not only indicate the demands of the Kingdom; they manifest first of all the work that God does in us by making us like His Son (Rom 8:29) and capable of having His sentiments (Phil 2:5ff.) of love and forgiveness (cf. Jn 13:34-35; Col 3:13).

8. Jesus' teaching on the kingdom of God is witnessed by the New Testament Church, which lived it in the joy of its Easter faith. She is the community of the "little ones" whom the Father "has delivered from the power of darkness and transferred into the kingdom of his beloved Son" (Col 1:13); it is the community of those who live "in Christ", allowing themselves to be led by the Spirit in the way of peace (Lk 1:79), and who struggle not to "fall into temptation" and to avoid the works of "the flesh", knowing full well that "he who does them will not inherit the kingdom of God" (Gal 5:21). The Church is the community of those who proclaim, with life and word, the same message of Jesus: "The kingdom of God is at hand" (Lk 10:9).

9. The Church, which "throughout the ages tends unceasingly to the fullness of divine truth, until the words of God are fulfilled in it" (Dei Verbum, 8), prays to the Father in every celebration of the Eucharist that "his kingdom come". It lives in ardent expectation of the glorious coming of the Lord and Saviour Jesus, who will offer to the divine majesty "the eternal and universal kingdom: a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace" (Preface on the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe).

This expectation of the Lord is an unceasing source of confidence and energy. It stimulates the baptised, who have become sharers in the royal dignity of Christ, to live each day "in the kingdom of his beloved son", to witness and proclaim the presence of the Kingdom with the same works of Jesus (cf. Jn 14:12). By virtue of this witness of faith and love, the Council teaches, the world will be imbued with the spirit of Christ and will reach its goal more effectively in justice, charity and peace (cf. Lumen Gentium, 36).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 18 March 1987]

Jesus’ parabolic discourse groups together seven parables in the 13th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, and concludes with today’s three parallel stories: the hidden treasure (v. 44), the fine pearl (vv. 45-46) and the fishing net (vv. 47-48). I will pause on the first two which highlight the protagonists’ decision to sell everything in order to acquire what they have found. The first case has to do with a farmer who casually happens upon a hidden treasure in the field he is working. As the field is not his property, he must purchase it in order to take possession of the treasure: he therefore decides to risk all his possessions so as not to lose that truly exceptional opportunity. In the second case, there is a merchant of precious pearls; as an expert, he has spied a pearl of great value. He too decides to wager everything on that pearl, to the point of selling all the others.

These parallel stories highlight two characteristics regarding possession of the Kingdom of God: searching and sacrifice. It is true that the Kingdom of God is offered to all — it is a gift, it is a present, it is a grace — but it does not come on a silver platter: it requires dynamism; it is about searching, journeying, working hard. The attitude of searching is the essential condition for finding. The heart must burn with the desire to reach the valuable good, that is, the Kingdom of God which is made present in the person of Jesus. He is the hidden treasure; he is the pearl of great value. He is the fundamental discovery who can make a decisive change in our lives, filling it with meaning.

Faced with the unexpected discovery, both the farmer and the merchant realize that they are facing a unique opportunity which should not be missed; hence, they sell all that they own. Assessing the inestimable value of the treasure leads to a decision that also implies sacrifice, detachment and renunciation. When the treasure and the pearl are discovered, that is, when we have found the Lord, we must not let this discovery become barren, but rather sacrifice everything else in order to acquire it. It is not a question of disdaining the rest but of subordinating them to Jesus, putting him in first place; grace in first place. The disciple of Christ is not one who has deprived himself of something essential; he is one who has found much more: he has found the complete joy that only the Lord can give. It is the evangelical joy of the sick who have been healed; of the pardoned sinners, of the thief for whom the doors of heaven open.

The joy of the Gospel fills the heart and the entire life of those who encounter Jesus. Those who allow themselves to be saved by him are freed from sin, sadness, inner emptiness and isolation. With Jesus Christ, joy is always born and reborn (cf. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, n. 1). Today we are called to contemplate the joy of the farmer and the merchant in the parables. It is the joy of each of us when we discover the closeness and the comforting presence of Jesus in our lives. A presence which transforms the heart and opens us to the needs and the welcoming of our brothers, especially the weakest.

Let us pray for the intercession of the Virgin Mary so that each of us may know how to bear witness, in daily words and gestures, to the joy of having found the treasure of the Kingdom of God, that is, the love that the Father has given us through Jesus.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 30 July 2017]

The Lord of Life (or the pale sign)

Jn 11:19-27 (1-45)

The event of death is disconcerting, and that of a friend of God in community [Bethany] perhaps accentuates the questions about the meaning of our belief and commit ourselves thoroughly.

Why in the time of greatest need does the Lord let us fall? Why does He seem not to be there (v.21)?

Letting even His dearest friends die, Jesus educates us: it’s not His intention to procrastinate biological existence (vv.14-15), nor simply improve it a little.

“Eternal” [in the Gospels, the very Life of the Eternal: Zoè aiònios] is not this form of life [in the Gospels: Bìos - possibly strengthened] but only its times of strong love.

Ultimate World does not interfere with the natural course.

For this reason the Lord doesn’t enter the “village” where others went to console and give condolences.

He wants Mary to leave the house where everyone cries in despair and mourns funeral - as if everything was over.

He intends to get us out of the “small hamlet” where it’s believed that the earthly end can be only delayed, until the tomb without a future.

The natural emotion for detachment does not hold back tears, which spontaneously «flow from the eyes, sliding down» [dakryein-edakrysen].

Intimate upheaval does not produce a broken and screamed cry [klaiein] as the inconsolable one of the Jews (vv.33.35).

No farewell. For this reason, it follows the order to remove the stone that at that time closed the tombs (v.39).

The strong Call is absolutely imperative: the ‘deceased’ ones are not ‘dead’ ones, as ancient religions believed; their lives goes on.

«Lazarus, out here!» (v.43): it’s the cry of the victory of life. 

In the adventure of Faith in Christ we discover that life has no stones on it. Enough, mourning the deadly situations, and the "dead ones"!

The Appeal that the Lord makes is that there is no disappeared souls’ world, separated from us; stand-alone, devoid of communication with the actual one.

Archaic beliefs imagined Hades or Sheôl as a dark, fog-soaked cavern, populated here and there by insubstantial wandering larvae.

On the contrary, the world of the living ones is not separated from that of the ‘deceased’ ones.

«Lazarus is asleep» (v.11), that is: he is not a fallen, because men do not die. They pass from the creaturely life [bìos] to full Life [Zoè].

The ‘deceased’ left this world and entered the world of God, re-Born and begotten to his authentic, complete and definitive being.

Then: «Untie him and let him go!».

In short, Lazarus did not simply end up in the pit, nor, having been well put back on his feet by Christ, did he reappear in this form of life for another stretch... inexorably marked by the limit.

In the Gospel passage, in fact, while everyone goes to Jesus, Lazarus doesn’t.

It’s not this not what Jesus can do in the face of death. He doesn’t immortalize this condition, otherwise all existence would continue to be a useless escape from the decisive appointment.

And it is time to stop crying our loved ones: «deceased», not ‘dead’.

We must not hold them back with obsessive visits, tormented memories, talismans, condolences: let them exist happily in their new condition!

Life for us and Life for those who have already flourished in the world of God's Peace - where we will live fully: with each other and for each other.

[St  Martha, Mary and Lazarus, July 29]

The Lord of Life (or the pale sign)

(Jn 11:1-45)

Jn 9:1-41 [the famous passage of the Born Blind] makes us reflect on the sign of the opening of the eyes.

Even in losers, there can be growth in awareness of personal dignity and vocation by Faith.

One question remains: a Light, if given in time... perhaps not much use.

Christ conveys to us a consciousness filled with perception and capable of sapiential, spiritual, missionary endeavour - but is there a final Goal or does it all end there?

If we have to fend for ourselves, what is the point of the biblical Promises? 

How come we feel longings for Fulness, then the plunge into nothingness?

Where is God's Love and omnipotence? What about the Risen One, the life of the Eternal One present among us? Has not his very life already been given to us?

The event of death disconcerts, and that of a friend of God in community [Bethany] perhaps accentuates questions about the meaning of our belief and commitment.

Why is it that in our hour of greatest need, the Lord allows us to fall? Why does he seem not to be there (v.21)?

Yet we understand that to be able to carry on an endless old age would not be a victory over death.

The belief of ancient cultures is that when the gods formed mankind they attributed death to it, and kept life for themselves.

Anyone who went in desperate search of the mythical herb that makes the old young had to resign himself: to die was to leave for a country with no return.

By letting even his dearest friends perish, Jesus educates us: it is not his intention to procrastinate biological existence (vv.14-15), nor simply to improve it a little.

Christ is not a 'doctor' who comes to postpone the appointment with death, but He who conquers death - because He transforms it into a Birth.

After all, a truly authentic, human and humanising life needs to look our condition in the face.

Health and physical life are gifts that everyone wants to prolong, but at the end they must be surrendered, in the Landing that no longer scratches.

Eternal [in the Gospels, the very Life of the Eternal: Zoè aiònios] is not this form of life [in the Gospels: Bìos - perhaps enhanced] but only its times of strong love.

This is the authenticity of grace to be asked for and developed. Perenniality to be responded to, a unique condition that does not give us checkmate.

The Ultimate World does not interfere with the natural course, although it may already manifest itself - in the intimate reality of multifaceted coexistence.

But this higher experience [of Covenant even with discomfort] lurks solely in that which is indestructible quality; personal, and in micro and macro relationships.

In particular, Communion: the only sign of the form of Life that takes on but does not waver, has no limits, and will have no end.

This is why the Lord does not enter the 'village' where others have gone to console and offer condolences.

He wants Mary to come out of the house where everyone is weeping in despair and offering condolences - as if everything were over.

She intends to get us out of the 'little village' where it is believed that the earthly end can only be senselessly deferred, to the tomb with no future.

He definitely wants us out of the little village where everyone is in mourning and left with the feigned consolation of funeral practices, 'relief' seasoned only with pretty phrases.

The natural emotion of parting does not hold back the tears, which spontaneously 'flow from the eyes, slide down' [dakryein-edakrysen].

The emotion does not produce a broken and shouted cry [klaiein] like the inconsolable one of the Jews [vv.33.35 Greek text; the Italian translation is confusing].

No farewell. This is followed by the order to remove the stone that at that time closed the tombs (v.39).

The strong reminder is absolutely imperative: the 'dead' are not 'dead', as the ancient religions believe; their life continues.

"Lazarus, out here!" [v.43 Greek text]: it is the cry of the victory of life. 

In the adventure of faith in Christ we discover that life has no stones on it.

Enough, groaning over deadly situations. They bring us closer to our roots, and to full bloom.

And we stop mourning the "dead"!

The appeal the Lord makes today - still after two millennia! - is that there is no such thing as a sunken world of the disappeared.

Compared to the going on earth, the departed are not well separated from us; in a place of their own, lacking communication with the present.

Archaic beliefs imagined Hades or Sheôl to be a dark cave, steeped in mist, here and there populated with insubstantial, wandering larvae.

The world of the living is not separate from that of the dead.

"Lazarus has fallen asleep" (v.11), i.e.: he is not a fallen man, for men do not die. They pass from creaturely life [bìos] to full Life [Zoè].The deceased has left this world and entered the world of God, re-born and begotten to his authentic, complete, definitive being.

Therefore: "Unbind him and let him go!".

In short, Lazarus did not simply end up in the grave, nor was he well revived by Christ he reappears in this form of life for another stretch... inexorably marked by limitation.

In the story, in fact, while everyone goes towards Jesus, Lazarus does not.

This is not what Jesus can do in the face of death. He does not immortalise this condition, otherwise existence would continue to be a useless flight from the decisive appointment.

And it is time to stop sobbing over the loved one: 'deceased', not 'dead'.

We should not hold it back with obsessive visits, tormented memories, talismans, condolences: let it exist happily in its new condition!

Life for us and Life for those who have already flourished in the world of God's Peace - where we live fully: with one another and for one another.

A condition that we can thus prefigure, dissolving not a few intimate blocks, external impediments, and relational laces; drowned in the moods of bitterness, consternation, and despondency:

"Even today Jesus repeats to us: 'Remove the stone. God did not create us for the grave, he created us for life, beautiful, good, joyful.

Therefore, we are called to remove the stones of everything that smacks of death: for example, the hypocrisy with which one lives the faith, it is death; the destructive criticism of others, it is death; the offence, the slander, it is death; the marginalisation of the poor, it is death.

The Lord asks us to remove these stones from our hearts, and life will then flourish around us again.

Christ lives, and whoever accepts Him and adheres to Him comes into contact with life. Without Christ, or outside of Christ, not only is there no life, but we fall back into death.

Let each one of us be close to those who are in trial, becoming for them a reflection of God's love and tenderness, which frees from death and makes life conquer".

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 March 2020].

To internalise and live the message:

In the face of bereavement, what atmosphere do you perceive at home, in church, at the cemetery, during the funeral? And condolences, how do they affect you?

On Bethany [continuation of the Lazarus passage]:

Jesus Comes to the Feast, but as a stowaway

(Jn 11:45-56)

Christ is all that the Jewish feasts promised and proclaimed.

They decried authoritatively, but unconsciously (vv.47-52 take pleasure in double-meaning words).

The high priest was in fact speaking for God: he was interpreting the situation in a divinely inspired way.

In Christ, the promise made to Abraham was being fulfilled: the era of the dispersion of men was coming to an end.

The Cross would fulfil the vocation of the Temple: the recomposition of the people and the unity of the human being from the barren and distant land, in sharing and gratuitousness.

But what could also have been the starting point (energy) for Jesus not to retreat within the limits of his own environment down to the last detail, and to activate a path of rebirth?

The community of Bethany ['house of the poor'] is an image of the first realities of faith, destitute and composed of only brothers and sisters, without co-opted and appointed authorities. On a personal scale.

Where one could loosen those bonds that prevented one from going beyond the already known. Without patriarchs with calibrated, obsessive and vindictive control - where one does not look at oneself.

A nest of healthy relationships, which could give meaning even to wounds.

It is the only place where Jesus was at ease, the only reality in which we can still recognise him alive and present in the midst of - indeed, Source of life for the modest and needy.

Strident in the Gospel passage is the comparison with the vulgar cunning of the directors and the out-of-scale dimension of the commanded places and festivals.

As if no sap flows there between God's holiness and the real life of the lowly.

Despite the fact that the Master did good - as in all regimes, there was no lack of delinquents (v.46).

On the other hand, a large part of the inhabitants of Jerusalem found their material sustenance in the Temple activities.

Imagine if the top of the class would have let themselves be ripped off the bone to go after a stranger who intended to supplant the official institution and positions of privilege with an unadorned utopia.

The throne of the prince of the fraternal house was conversely without cushions, and the community co-ordinator a woman: Marta ['madam']. Backward, servant leader.

Anything but a reactionary defence of privileged positions and the ancient order... still all downward tensions and 'settling' according to chain of command, which never give us any hints of new life. A viscous situation that the initiative of the synodal path finally attempts to unhinge.Under Domitian, these small alternative realities - although caring for the small and distant - had to live like Jesus: clandestine.

They paid for their unity with the cross. But they renewed the life of the empire.

[That of Lazarus is] the last "sign" fulfilled by Jesus, after which the chief priests convened the Sanhedrin and deliberated killing him, and decided to kill the same Lazarus who was living proof of the divinity of Christ, the Lord of life and death. Actually, this Gospel passage shows Jesus as true Man and true God. First of all, the Evangelist insists on his friendship with Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. He emphasizes that "Jesus loved" them (Jn 11: 5), and this is why he wanted to accomplish the great wonder. "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him out of sleep" (Jn 11: 11), he tells his disciples, expressing God's viewpoint on physical death with the metaphor of sleep. God sees it exactly as sleep, from which he can awaken us. Jesus has shown an absolute power regarding this death, seen when he gives life back to the widow of Nain's young son (cf. Lk 7: 11-17) and to the 12 year-old girl (cf. Mk 5: 35-43). Precisely concerning her he said:  "The child is not dead but sleeping" (Mk 5: 39), attracting the derision of those present. But in truth it is exactly like this: bodily death is a sleep from which God can awaken us at any moment.

This lordship over death does not impede Jesus from feeling sincere "com-passion" for the sorrow of detachment. Seeing Martha and Mary and those who had come to console them weeping, Jesus "was deeply moved in spirit and troubled", and lastly, "wept" (Jn 11: 33, 35). Christ's heart is divine-human:  in him God and man meet perfectly, without separation and without confusion. He is the image, or rather, the incarnation of God who is love, mercy, paternal and maternal tenderness, of God who is Life. Therefore, he solemnly declared to Martha:  "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die". And he adds, "Do you believe this?" (Jn 11: 25-26). It is a question that Jesus addresses to each one of us:  a question that certainly rises above us, rises above our capacity to understand, and it asks us to entrust ourselves to him as he entrusted himself to the Father. Martha's response is exemplary:  "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world" (Jn 11: 27). Yes, O Lord! We also believe, notwithstanding our doubts and darkness; we believe in you because you have the words of eternal life. We want to believe in you, who give us a trustworthy hope of life beyond life, of authentic and full life in your Kingdom of light and peace.

We entrust this prayer to Mary Most Holy. May her intercession strengthen our faith and hope in Jesus, especially in moments of greater trial and difficulty.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 March 2008]

Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died" (Jn 11:21, 32).

These words, which you have heard read in the Gospel of today's Mass, are pronounced first by Martha, then by Mary, the two sisters of Lazarus, and are addressed to Jesus of Nazareth, who was their friend and their brother's friend.

Today's liturgy presents the theme of death to our attention. This is now the fifth Sunday of Lent and the time of Christ's passion is approaching. The time of death and resurrection. Today we look at this fact through the death and resurrection of Lazarus. In Christ's messianic mission, this shattering event serves as a preparation for Holy Week and Easter.

2. ". . . my brother would not have died".

The voice of the human heart resounds in these words, the voice of a heart that loves and bears witness to what death is. All the time we hear about death and read news about the death of various people. There is systematic information on this subject. There is also death statistics. We know that death is a common and unceasing phenomenon. If around 145,000 people die on the globe every day, we can say that people die every moment. Death is a universal phenomenon and an ordinary fact. The universality and ordinariness of the fact confirm the reality of death, the inevitability of death, but, at the same time, they erase in a certain sense the truth about death, its penetrating eloquence.

The language of statistics is not enough here. The voice of the human heart is needed: the voice of a sister, as in today's Gospel, the voice of a person who loves. The reality of death can only be expressed in all its truth in the language of love.

For love resists death, and desires life . . .

Each of the two sisters of Lazarus does not say 'my brother is dead', but says: 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died'.

The truth about death can only be expressed from a perspective of life, from a desire for life: that is, from remaining in the loving communion of a person.

The truth about death is expressed in today's liturgy in relation to the voice of the human heart.

3. At the same time it is expressed in relation to the mission of Christ, the world's redeemer.

Jesus of Nazareth was the friend of Lazarus and his sisters. The death of his friend was also felt in his heart with a particular echo. When he came to Bethany, when he heard the weeping of the sisters and others who were fond of the deceased, Jesus "was deeply moved, he was troubled", and in this inner disposition he asked: "Where have you laid him?" (John 11: 33).

Jesus of Nazareth is at the same time the Christ, the one the Father sent to the world: he is the eternal witness of the Father's love. He is the ultimate spokesman of this love before men. He is in a certain sense the Host of it with regard to each and all. In him and for him the eternal love of the Father is confirmed and fulfilled in human history, confirmed and fulfilled in a superabundant manner.

And love opposes death and wants life.

Man's death, ever since Adam, is opposed to love: it is opposed to the love of the Father, the God of life.

The root of death is sin, which also opposes the Father's love. In human history, death is united with sin, and like sin it is opposed to love.

4. Jesus Christ came into the world to redeem man's sin; every sin that is rooted in man. That is why he confronted the reality of death; for death is united with sin in human history: it is the fruit of sin. Jesus Christ became man's redeemer through his death on the cross, which was the sacrifice that repaired all sin.

In his death, Jesus Christ confirmed the testimony of the Father's love. The love that resists death, and desires life, was expressed in the resurrection of Christ, of him who, to redeem the sins of the world, freely accepted death on the cross.

This event is called Easter: the paschal mystery. Every year we prepare for it through Lent, and today's Sunday now shows us this mystery at close quarters, in which God's love and power have been revealed, as life has brought victory over death.

5. What happened in Bethany at the tomb of Lazarus was almost the last announcement of the paschal mystery.

Jesus of Nazareth stood by the tomb of his friend Lazarus, and said: "Lazarus, come out!" (John 11: 43). With these words, full of power, Jesus raised him to life and brought him out of the tomb.

Before performing this miracle, Christ "lifted up his eyes and said: 'Father, I thank you that you have listened to me. I knew that you always listen to me, but I said this for the people around me, so that they might believe that you sent me'" (John 11: 41-42).At the tomb of Lazarus a particular confrontation of death with the redemptive mission of Christ took place. Christ was the witness of the eternal love of the Father, of that love that resists death and desires life. By raising Lazarus, he bore witness to this love. He also bore witness to God's exclusive power over life and death.

At the same time, at Lazarus' tomb, Christ was the prophet of his own mystery: of the paschal mystery, in which the redemptive death on the cross became the source of new life in the resurrection.

8. The pilgrimage, which you have undertaken today because of the Jubilee, introduces you, dear soldiers gathered here from different countries, into the mystery of redemption, through the liturgy of today's Lenten Sunday, which invites us to pause, I would say, on the frontier of life and death, to worship the presence and love of God.

Here are the words of the prophet Ezekiel: "Says the Lord God: 'You shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and raise you from your graves, O my people'" (Ez 37:12, 13).

These words were fulfilled at the tomb of Lazarus in Bethany. They were definitively fulfilled at the tomb of Christ on Calvary. Today's liturgy makes us aware of this.

In the resurrection of Lazarus, God's power over man's spirit and body was manifested.

In Christ's resurrection, the Holy Spirit was granted as the source of new life: divine life. This life is man's eternal destiny. It is his vocation received from God. In this life, the eternal love of the Father is realised.

For love desires life and is opposed to death.

Dear brothers! Let us live this life! Let sin not dominate in us! Let us live this life, the price of which is redemption through Christ's death on the cross!

"And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you" (Rom 8:11).

May the Holy Spirit dwell in you always through the grace of Christ's redemption. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, Homily for the Jubilee of the Military 8 April 1984]

The Gospel [...] is the resurrection of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45). Lazarus was Martha and Mary’s brother; they were good friends of Jesus. When Jesus arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has already been dead for four days. Martha runs towards the Master and says to Him: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died!” (v. 21). Jesus replies to her: “Your brother will rise again” (v. 23) and adds: “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (v. 25). Jesus makes himself seen as the Lord of life, he who is capable of giving life even to the dead. Then Mary and other people arrive, in tears, and so Jesus — the Gospel says — “was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.... Jesus wept” (vv. 33, 35). With this turmoil in his heart, he goes to the tomb, thanks the Father who always listens to him, has the tomb opened and cries aloud: “Lazarus, come out!” (v. 43). And Lazarus emerges with “his hands and feet bound with bandages and his face wrapped with a cloth” (v. 44).

Here we can experience first hand that God is life and gives life, yet takes on the tragedy of death. Jesus could have avoided the death of his friend Lazarus, but he wanted to share in our suffering for the death of people dear to us, and above all, he wished to demonstrate God’s dominion over death. In this Gospel passage we see that the faith of man and the omnipotence of God, of God’s love, seek each other and finally meet. It is like a two lane street: the faith of man and the omnipotence of God’s love seek each other and finally meet. We see this in the cry of Martha and Mary, and of all of us with them: “If you had been here!”. And God’s answer is not a speech, no, God’s answer to the problem of death is Jesus: “I am the resurrection and the life” ... have faith. Amid grief, continue to have faith, even when it seems that death has won. Take away the stone from your heart! Let the Word of God restore life where there is death.

Today, too, Jesus repeats to us: “Take away the stone”. God did not create us for the tomb, but rather he created us for life, [which is] beautiful, good, joyful. But “through the devil’s envy death entered the world” (Wis 2:24) says the Book of Wisdom, and Jesus Christ came to free us from its bonds.

We are thus called to take away the stones of all that suggests death: for example, the hypocrisy with which faith is lived, is death; the destructive criticism of others, is death; insults, slander, are death; the marginalization of the poor, is death. The Lord asks us to remove these stones from our hearts, and life will then flourish again around us. Christ lives, and those who welcome him and follow him come into contact with life. Without Christ, or outside of Christ, not only is life not present, but one falls back into death.

The resurrection of Lazarus is also a sign of the regeneration that occurs in the believer through Baptism, with full integration within the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Through the action and power of the Holy Spirit, the Christian is a person who journeys in life as a new creature: a creature for life, who goes towards life.

May the Virgin Mary help us to be compassionate like her son Jesus, who made our suffering his own. May each of us be close to those who are in difficulty, becoming for them a reflection of God’s love and tenderness, which frees us from death and makes life victorious.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 March 2020]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people to discover the things of God and man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom becoming Present, describing precisely the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the «mustard seed» and the «leaven».

To say: the authentic Church is within reach of everyone, everywhere - nonetheless exiguous; inapparent, yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginnings and term: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one that welcomes the character of an inapparent Word-event, but one that activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first term of comparison related to the life of the people [the little seed] mentions the story of a very small grain: a common concrete event, which is not very noticeable.

Around the Lake of Galilee, mustard shrubs can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

It is not the same development as the majestic cedars of Lebanon - rather of just any small tree in the kitchen garden (v.32), however, capable of giving a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence of little fuss: quite normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing big, yet hospitable to those suffering from the powerful heat of those places.

In short, the fraternities that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent and outward, but they will know how to give shelter and rest.

The strength of the «mustard speck» is intimate, yet strong-willed: it will grow - though not by much.

That is, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Maybe it will be more like a small barque: no big deal - yet it will raise hopes of life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of amiable evangelisers, who still proclaim and work, radiating light, captivating people.

Whoever approaches the threshold of the churches - the reference is to the distant and pagan - must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will be fully entitled to take up their position and build their nest [in such a common Abode] even if they then decide to take flight again as soon as they have used it.

The next comparison - of the «leaven» (v.33) - insists on caring for the life goals of other brethren, with respect to the Community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's concern for all his sons.

The leaven is not useful to itself, but to the mass.

Likewise, the Church shall not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration and development [material, or with a view to proselytism; and so on].

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of people's lives alone, where and how they are - just as they are.

To internalize and live the message:

What seed had you neglected because of its smallness, and then it turned out to be essential for your growth and the needs of others as well?

[Lunedì 17.a sett. T.O.   28 luglio 2025]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people discover the things of God and of man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary nature of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom that is becoming Present, describing the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the 'mustard seed' and 'yeast'.

In other words, the authentic Church is within everyone's reach, everywhere - yet small, inconspicuous, and yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginning and end: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one who welcomes the character of a humble Word-event, but which activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first point of comparison linked to people's lives [the seed] refers to the story of a very small grain of wheat: a concrete, common story that is not particularly noticeable.

Around the Sea of Galilee, mustard bushes can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

This is not the growth of majestic cedars of Lebanon, but rather a small tree in a home garden (v. 32), yet capable of providing a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence that is not very noticeable: completely normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing great, yet hospitable to those who suffer the intense heat of those places.

In short, the brotherhoods that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent or outwardly impressive, but they will be able to offer shelter and rest.

The strength of the 'mustard seed' is intimate, yet stubborn: it will grow - even if not by much.

In other words, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Perhaps it will be more like a small boat: nothing special, yet capable of inspiring hope for life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of loving evangelisers who continue to proclaim and work, radiating light and captivating people.

Anyone who approaches the threshold of churches – I am referring to those who are distant and pagan – must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will have every right to take up residence and build their nest [in this common dwelling] even if they decide to fly away again as soon as they have served their purpose.

The next comparison - that of 'yeast' (v. 33) - emphasises the importance of caring for the life goals of other brothers and sisters in the community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's care for all his children.

Yeast is not useful to itself, but to the dough.

In the same way, the Church must not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration or development (material, proselytism, etc.).

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of the life of the people, wherever and however they find themselves - just as they are.

To internalise and live the message:

What seed did you neglect because of its smallness, and then it proved essential for your growth and the needs of others?

[Parables: Narrative for transmutation]

The mystery of common blindness. Lost? Ready for transformation

(Mt 13:34-35)

St Paul expresses the meaning of the 'mystery of blindness' that contrasts with his journey with the famous expression 'thorn in the side': wherever he went, enemies were already waiting for him, and unexpected disagreements arose.

So it is for us: disastrous events, catastrophes, emergencies, the disintegration of old reassuring certainties - all external and murky; until recently considered permanent.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings have been the best way to reactivate ourselves and introduce the energies of renewed life.

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

Erich Fromm says:

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

Indeed, in a climate of unrest or absurd differences [which force us to regenerate], the most neglected inner virtues sometimes come to the fore.

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

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

With one cycle concluded, we begin a new phase; perhaps with greater rectitude and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, closer to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is generated in an acute way precisely by detachments.They lead us to a dynamic dialogue with the eternal reserves of transmuting forces that inhabit us and belong to us.

A primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us, this path 'fishes' for the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

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

An arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, culture, procedures, and what is common.

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

Until the turmoil and chaos themselves guide the soul and compel it to a new beginning, to a different perspective (completely shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, it is the result of a narrative exploration that does not distance people from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.