God bless us and may the Virgin protect us.

Here is the commentary for the Ash Wednesday readings

5 March 2025  (year C)

The liturgy of Ash Wednesday, which opens Lent, was once marked by the beginning of public penance today and the start of the last stretch of the formation of catechumens, who prepared to receive baptism at the Easter Vigil. Symbolising the call to prayer and conversion of heart, which proclaims the texts of Holy Scripture, is the rite of ashes, a sign of penance and conversion.  It is an 'austere symbol' with which we begin the spiritual journey of Lent, recognising that our body, formed from dust, will return to dust, and therefore we are invited to make our existence a sacrifice God in union with the death of Christ Jesus. What illuminates Ash Wednesday and the whole of Lent is the event of the Resurrection of Jesus, which we will celebrate with renewed hope in this Jubilee year. Ash Wednesday is a day of penance, fasting and almsgiving, which is to be understood as sharing what we are and what we possess with our brothers and sisters for the glory of God. This requires the courage to give up something that costs us in order to live Lent as a time of true inner purification. 

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Joel (Gl 2:12-18) 

Return to the Lord with all your heart! This is the invitation that the prophet Joel issues to us today. His book is very short (it contains a total of seventy-three verses divided into four chapters) and is set around the year 600 BC, i.e. just before the exile in Babylon. There are three constantly intertwining themes: the prospect of terrible scourges, heartfelt appeals to fasting and conversion, and the proclamation of God's salvation. Today it is the second theme that the liturgy proposes to us at the beginning of Lent. The solemn call to conversion urges us to take seriously what follows, namely the invitation: 'Return to me', and the people respond and plead: 'Forgive, Lord, your people and do not expose your inheritance to the mockery and derision of the nations. The prophets always teach not to be satisfied with outward manifestations and Joel also does not fail to emphasise this: 'Tear your hearts and not your garments and return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful'.  This is what Isaiah says: 'Though you multiply your prayers, I do not listen: your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves, purify yourselves. Turn away from my eyes your evil deeds, cease to do evil. Learn to do good, seek justice..." (Is 1:14-17). And Psalm 50/51 comments 'The sacrifice that pleases God is a contrite spirit; a sorrowful and humiliated heart, O God, you do not despise it'. The prophet Ezekiel helps us to understand what the psalmist means: that we must break our hearts of stone so that the heart of flesh may emerge, and the prophet Joel follows this line when he calls for tearing hearts and not garments in order to escape a deserved punishment. For he writes: "who knows that God will not change and repent and leave behind him a blessing?" And he concludes by announcing that forgiveness has already been granted. The liturgical translation says: "The Lord shows jealousy for his land" having had pity on his people, but God's mercy is destined for all men, and this is precisely the message we find in the book of Jonah very similar to that of Joel. In fact, Jonah narrates the conversion of Nineveh, the pagan city that had gone a day's journey proclaiming: 'Forty days more and Nineveh will be destroyed', and the inhabitants immediately believed in God. They proclaimed a fast and dressed themselves in sackcloth, great and small. Even the king of Nineveh laid down his royal mantle, covered himself with sackcloth and sat down on the ashes, and then proclaimed a state of alertness and had everyone in Nineveh cover themselves with sackcloth and call upon God mightily. God saw their conversion and lifted the chastisement he had threatened to inflict (Gen 3:4-10). The secret is that God is overflowing with zeal and love, as Joel reminds us, for all men, and St Paul will say: 'God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us' (Rom 5:8).

*Responsorial Psalm (50 (51).  Forgive us, Lord: we have sinned

Let us also join the people of Israel gathered in the Temple of Jerusalem for a great penitential celebration. They know that they are full of sins, but they know from experience that God's mercy is inexhaustible and so they ask for forgiveness with the certainty of being heard. This was precisely King David's discovery after he sinned with Bathsheba, wife of an officer, Uriah, who was at war at the time. Bathsheba let David know that she was pregnant by him, and David arranged for her betrayed husband to die in battle so that he could take the woman and the child she was carrying for himself for good. The prophet Nathan did not immediately try to make David admit his sin, but first reminded him of God's many gifts and announced forgiveness before David even had time to confess his guilt (cf. 2 Samuel 12). In addition to all the gifts and privileges that God had bestowed upon him, he also added that the Lord was ready to grant him whatever he wished. Throughout history, Israel had occasion to record that God is indeed "the merciful and gracious Lord, slow to anger, rich in faithfulness and loyalty", as he had revealed to Moses in the wilderness (Ex 34:6). The prophets also reiterated this message, and the verses of Psalm 50/51 are full of it. Isaiah, for example, says: "I, I alone blot out your sins for my own sake, and I remember your sins no more" (Isaiah 43:25). The announcement of God's free forgiveness always surprises us: it almost seems too good to be true. For some, it may even seem unfair: if everything is forgivable, why strive to live well? But this means forgetting that we all, without exception, need God's mercy and he surprises us, because, as Isaiah says, God's thoughts are not our thoughts. And it is precisely in forgiveness that God surprises us the most. Let us think of the Gospel parable of the labourers of the last hour: "Can I not do with my things what I will? Or are you jealous because I am good?" (cf. Mt 20:15), to that of the prodigal son (Lk 15): when the ungrateful son returns to his father, animated by motives that are anything but noble, Jesus puts a phrase from Psalm 50 on his lips: "Against you, against you alone have I sinned". And with this single phrase, the broken bond is reconnected. Faced with the ever new proclamation of God's mercy, the people of Israel, who in the Psalms speak for us all, recognise themselves as sinners. Its repentance is not detailed, it never is in the penitential Psalms, but expresses everything in a simple plea: 'Have mercy on me, O God, in your love; in your great mercy blot out my iniquity. Wash me all from my guilt, from my sin make me pure". And God, who is all mercy, attracted by man's misery, waits for nothing more than this humble confession of our poverty. And it is useful to remember that 'mercy' has the same root as 'almsgiving' and this reminds us that we are beggars of love and forgiveness before God. What to do then: give thanks and forgive. Give thanks for the forgiveness that God continually offers us. In every penitential celebration, the most important prayer is the recognition of God's gifts and forgiveness. First of all, we must contemplate God himself, and only then can we acknowledge ourselves as sinners. The Rite of Reconciliation clearly states that we confess God's love along with our sin, and praise will spring spontaneously from our lips: "Lord, open my lips and my mouth will proclaim your praise" (this is the phrase that opens the Liturgy of the Hours, every morning and is taken from Psalm 50/51) in which we are reminded that praise and gratitude will only arise in us if God opens our hearts and lips. And the second step that God expects of us and constitutes the ascetic programme of our whole life is the commitment to forgive in our turn, without delay or conditions. 

*Second Reading from St Paul's Second Letter to the Corinthians (5:20-6:2) 

"Be reconciled to God"! Paul speaks of reconciliation well aware of the breaking of the covenant between God and his people. In the Old Testament, the people knew that God is not at odds with mankind, as Psalm 102/103 clearly expresses: 'The Lord is not always quarrelling, he does not retain his wrath forever; he does not treat us according to our sins, he does not repay us according to our faults... As far as the east is from the west, so he turns away from us our faults... He knows of what we are made, he remembers that we are dust.  Similarly, we read in Isaiah: "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, who will have mercy on him, to our God, who forgives abundantly" (Isaiah 55: 7), and in the Book of Wisdom: "You have compassion on all, for you can do all things, and you shut your eyes to the sins of men, waiting for their repentance... Your sovereignty over all makes you forgiving to all" (Wisdom 11: 23; 12: 16). David had this experience when he slew Uriah, Bathsheba's husband, and God sent him the prophet Nathan who, in essence, said to him: All that you have, I have given you; and if it were not yet enough, I would be ready to give you again all that you desire. God was not even unaware that Solomon had obtained the throne by eliminating his rivals, yet he heard his prayer at Gibeon and granted his requests far beyond what the young king had dared to ask for (1 Kings 3). But there is more: God's very Name, 'Merciful', means that he loves us the more miserable we are. Therefore, God is not in dispute with man. Yet Paul speaks of reconciliation, because from the beginning of the world (Paul says 'from Adam', but it is the same thing), it is man who is in conflict with God. The Genesis account (Gen 2-3) attributes the origin of this accusation against God to the serpent because he is jealous of man and does not want his good: "God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil" (Gen 3:4) The Bible implies that this suspicion is not natural in man - it is the voice of the serpent, and therefore can be cured. This is precisely what St Paul says: 'Brothers, we, in the name of Christ, are ambassadors: through us it is God himself who exhorts. We beseech you in the name of Christ: be reconciled to God'. And what has God done to remove this distrust from our hearts? The apostle continues: "He who knew no sin, God made sin for our sake" (2 Cor 5:21). Jesus did not know sin; on the contrary, as we read in the letter to the Philippians, Jesus made himself obedient (Phil 2:8), and always remained confident, even in suffering and death. That is why he teaches men this trust and reveals that Di is all love and forgiveness: he is Mercy. By an unbelievable paradox, because of this revelation Jesus was considered a blasphemer, treated as a sinner and executed as a cursed man (cf. Deut 21:23). The hatred and blindness of men came upon him and the Father let it happen, because this was the only way for us to experience first hand how far "the Lord is jealous for his land and moves with compassion for his people" as the prophet Joel states. Jesus faced the sin of men, violence, hatred, the rejection of a God who is Love, and on the cross he appears how far the horror of human sin reaches and how far the gentleness and forgiveness of God reaches. And it is precisely from this contemplation that our conversion, what Paul calls 'justification', can arise. "They will turn their eyes to him whom they have pierced," we read in the book of the prophet Zechariah (Zech 12:10), taken up by John (Jn 19:37). In the dying Jesus who forgives his executioners, we discover the very face of God ("He who has seen me has seen the Father" Jn 14:9) and, thanks to him, we are reconciled by God. The task of the baptised is to proclaim and bear witness to this love, in the school of Paul who cries out: "We are ambassadors of Christ", a mission that involves each one of us. This short text closes with a quotation from the prophet Isaiah "At the favourable time I have heard you

and on the day of salvation I have succoured you" who spoke to the exiles in Babylon, announcing to them that the hour of salvation had come. While Israel had to announce deliverance, because false images of God imprison the hearts of men, Jesus Christ entrusted his Church with the mission of announcing the remission of sins to the world.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (6:1-6. 16-18)

Today's Gospel contains two short excerpts from the Sermon on the Mount, which occupies chapters 5-7 of Matthew's Gospel. The whole discourse revolves around a central core that is the Lord's Prayer (Mt 6:9-13), the prayer that gives meaning to everything else. This indicates that the exhortations given here are not mere moral advice, but lead to the heart of faith, and the message is as follows: all our actions must be rooted in the discovery that God is Father. Prayer, almsgiving and fasting are therefore not just religious practices, but paths to bring us closer to God-the-Father: Fasting means learning to shift the centre away from ourselves, and with prayer we centre our lives on God, while almsgiving opens our hearts to our brothers and sisters. Three times Jesus uses expressions that invite us not to be like those who love to show off. Religious practices were certainly of great importance in the Jewish society of the time and the risk was to place too much value on outward displays as some did. Matthew recalls Jesus' rebukes to those who cared more about the length of their fringes than about mercy and faithfulness (Matthew 23:5ff). Here, Jesus invites his disciples to a true inner purification because to be truly righteous one must avoid acting in front of men in order to be admired by them. Righteousness was a fundamental theme for believers and in the Beatitudes, Jesus mentions it twice: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied." (Mt 5:6) "Blessed are those persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." (Mt 5:10) But in biblical language, true justice does not consist in accumulating religious practices, however noble they may be. True righteousness is to be in harmony with God's plan as we already read in Genesis: "Abraham believed the Lord, and therefore the Lord counted him righteous." (Gen 15:6). Therefore, not a righteousness that is self-righteousness, but a deep harmony and agreement with God.  Prayer, fasting, almsgiving become three ways to live justice: In prayer, we allow God to mould us according to his plan: "Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done. "And precisely for this reason, Jesus recommends: "When you pray, do not waste words as the pagans do; your Father knows what you need even before you ask him. (Mt 6:7-8) Fasting is along the same lines: it frees us from the illusion of what we believe is essential to be happy, but which often ends up imprisoning us. Jesus himself, fasting in the desert, answered Satan: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." (Mt 4:4) Almsgiving is the fruit of our walk of righteousness, because it makes us merciful. It is no coincidence that the Greek word for almsgiving comes from the same root as eleison ("have mercy") and to give alms means to open one's heart to compassion. Since God loves all his children, there can be no true justice without social justice. And we see this clearly in the Last Judgement: "Come, ye blessed of my Father... For I was hungry and you gave me food... "And at the end: "The righteous shall go to eternal life. (Mt 25:31-46). Ultimately those who flaunt are at odds with true righteousness because they display a subtle form of spiritual selfishness, a way of remaining self-centred. And the real tragedy is that this attitude closes our hearts to the Spirit's sanctifying action.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Prayer of the sons: performance or Listening?

Mt 6:7-15 (v.13)

«When you pray, do not babble like the pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their wordiness» (Mt 6:7; cf. Lk 11:1).

The God of religions was named with an overabundance of high-sounding honorific epithets, as if he craved ever more numerous ranks of incensers.

The «Father» is not accompanied by prestigious titles. A child doesn’t address the parent as a very high, eternal and omnipotent, but the a reliable family Person who transmits life to him.

And the son doesn’t imagine that he has to offer external cries and acknowledgments: the Father looks at needs, not merits.

«Et ne nos inducas in tentationem»: ancient Prayer of the sons.

«Do not induce us [Lead us not into]» is (in the Latin and Greek sense: «until the end») an ancient Symbol of the ‘reborn in Christ’, in the experience of real life.

In religions there are clearly opposed demons and angels: disordered and dark powers, contrary to the bright and "right" ones.

But by dint of relegating the former, the worst continually resurface, until they win the game and spread.

In the lives of the saints we see these great women and men strangely always under temptation - because they disdain evil, therefore they do not know it.

Gradually, however, the little constant naggings becomes overwhelming crowds.

The persons of Faith do not act according to pre-established and superficial models, not even religious ones; they are aware that they are not heroes or paradigm phenomena.

That's why they rely on. They let intimate problems go by: understood its strength!

This is the meaning of the formula of the Our Father, in its original sense: «and lead us not into [the end of] temptation [trial] (because we know our weakness)».

If, on the other hand, our 'counterpart' becomes a protagonist, a one-sided pivot, a constant afterthought, and a block, we are done for.

Pain, failures, sadness, frustrations, weaknesses, a thousand anxieties, too many falls, accustom us to experience transgressions as part of ourselves: Condition to be evaluated, not "guilt" to be cut horizontally.

In the process of true salvific transmutation, that signal speaks of us: within a deviation or the eccentricity there is a secret or a knowledge to be found, for a ‘new personal birth’.

Looking at the discomforts and oppositions, we realize that these critical sides of being become like a malleable magma, which approaches our healing more quickly. As if through a permanent, radical conversion… because it involves and belongs to us; not in peripheral mode, but basically, of Seed and Nature.

Absorbed patterns and beliefs don’t allow us to understand that the passionate life is composed of opposing states, of competitive energies - which must not be disguised in order to be considered decent people.

Perceiving and integrating such depths, we lay down the idea and atmosphere of impending danger, devoid of further opportunity; only for death.

We become mature, without dissociation or hysterical states resulting from contrived identifications, nor disesteem for an important part of us.

In short, straits and "crosses" have something to tell us.

They shake the soul to the root, sweep away the absorbed masks, ignite the person, and save the life.

In this way, inconveniences and anxieties help us. They hide capabilities and possibilities that we do not yet see.

In the virtue of the shaky yet unique exceptionality for each person, here is the true journey opening up.

Path of the Father and of the heart, Way that wants to guide us to alternative trajectories, new dimensions of existence.

The difference of the Faith, compared to ancient religiosity [in the sense of the ‘Cross-inside’]?

It’s in the consciousness that only the sick heal, only the incomplete grow.

Only the halting women and men regain expression, evolve. And falling, they snap forward.

[Tuesday 1st wk. in Lent, March 11, 2025]

Sons’ Prayer: performance or Listening?

(Mt 6:7-15)

In the communities of Mt and Lk the "prayer" of the sons - the "Our Father" - does not originate as prayer, but as a formula of acceptance of the Beatitudes (in its scans: invocation to the Father, human situation and advent of the Kingdom, liberation).

In any case, the full difference between religious prayer and expression animated by Faith lies in the distinction between: Performance or Perception.

[As Pope Francis says: "To pray is not to talk to God like a parrot". "Our God does not need sacrifices to win his favour! He needs nothing'].

In religions - in fact - it is the praying subject who 'prays', making requests, expounding himself, praising, and so on.

Still in Thomism, the virtue of religion was considered to be an aspect of the cardinal virtue of Justice. As if to say: man's rightful position before God is that of one who recognises a duty of worship (worship that is directed from him) towards the Creator; and man - the subject of prayer - would fulfil it.

Conversely, the child of God in Christ is a "hearer" of the Logos: he is the one who tends his ear, perceives, welcomes: in short, the authentic Subject who expresses himself is God himself.

He reveals Himself through the Word, in the reality of events, in the folds of universal and personal history, in the particular Calling He grants us, even in intimate images.

They become plastic expressions of Mystery (and personal Vocation) that wave upon wave even guide the soul.

"When you pray, do not babble like the pagans, for they think they are heard because of their wordiness" (Mt 6:7; cf. Lk 11:1).

In the Faith we participate in the authentic prayer of Jesus Himself - Person in us - addressed to the Father, first of all "listening" to His providential proposals: as if united to the Friend and Brother we enter into this Dialogue - full of even figurative suggestions.

But it is the Only-Begotten who prays; we are not the great protagonists. Only in this sense can the act of praying be defined as 'childlike' or 'Christian'.

Our prayer life is not an ascetical exercise - nor a duty, nor a shopping list - because God does not need to be informed about something He had not thought of before.

As the Master says, the Father knows what we need (Mt 6:8). So to turn to Him does not require any effort [ lacerating effort to centre oneself and step outside oneself]. Nor does it force us into too many (or the right) words.

Authentic prayer is not a tracing, nor a leap into outer darkness, but an excavation and sifting, given. It is a plunge into our being, where the intimacy of the Understanding aims to understand the Author's signature at the heart of events; even emotions.

The prayer of the man of Faith does not aim to introduce God's will and the reality of situations into narrow horizons and judgments that are already comprehensible, as if pushing it into unnatural attunements.

Prayer is a perceptive leap without repetitive identities, from one's own Core - which clears away mental toxins; and so it becomes an experience of fullness of being, in search of global and personal meaning.

Nor is the praying man prey to some excited paroxysmal state (ridiculous or soporific): he is welcoming an Action - a Work of paradoxical suspension, on the path to his own Bliss.

Prayer is even a gesture of aesthetic order in Christ. Precisely because it tends to rake our everyday imagery so that it is shaped according to the guiding vision it inhabits. It shifts and almost directs the eye of the soul, and the ecclesial experience.

A virtue-event that gradually chisels that very personal image that brings to awareness a goal or a communal reality of praise, that is, an innate narrative Voice of unknown energies, for important changes.

Step by step, this perception and dialogue that emerges induces one to internalise hidden flashes of the path that belongs to us: a missionary spirit that seeks harmony, the creation of a living environment, and so on. Even destabilising.

Only in this sense is prayer in order to our benefits.

Nor can it be reduced to a group badge, because although we recognise ourselves in some knowledge, each one has its own language of the soul, a relevant history and sensitivity, an unprecedented iconic world (also in terms of micro and macro dreamed relations), as well as an unrepeatable task of salvation.

For this reason too - albeit in terms of the community of reference - the Symbol of the reborn in Christ turning to the Father has come down to us in different versions: Mt, Lk, Didaché ['Teaching' perhaps contemporary with the last New Testament writings, a kind of early Catechism]. 

To introduce us to specific considerations, it is appropriate to ask: why did Jesus not attend places of worship to recite traditional formulas, but to teach?

And never does it appear that the apostles pray with Him: it seems that they only wanted a formula to distinguish themselves from other rabbinical schools (cf. Lk 11:1).

The Lord only holds fast to the mentality and style of life: He proceeds on fundamental options - and insists on the perception of welcoming, rather than on our saying and organising (little imbued with grounded eternity).

Father

The God of religions was named with an overabundance of high-sounding honorary epithets, as if he craved ever-growing ranks of incense-givers.

The Father is not accompanied by prestigious titles. A son does not address his parent as high, eternal or lofty, but as the one who imparts life to him.

And the son does not imagine that he has to give external shout-outs and accolades - otherwise the superior and master would admonish and chastise: the Parent looks at needs, not merits.

The God of religions governs his subjects by enacting laws, as a sovereign does; the Father transmits his Spirit, his own Life, which elevates and perfects both personal listening skills and the noticing (e.g. of brothers).

The only request is that we extend our missionary resources and feed on the Father-Person who reshapes us on his own virtues, according to what we should be, and could perhaps already have been.

One reality within our reach is the cancellation of material debts that our neighbour has incurred in need.

There is no witness to God-Love that does not pass through a fraternal community, in which we experience the communion of goods.

The security of being right with God is in the joy of living together and sharing.

In religious belief, material blessings are often confused with divine blessings, which accentuates the competitions, artificial primacy and inconveniences of real life.

Conversely, the spirit of the Beatitudes is made manifest in a people where the distinctions between creditors and debtors are abolished.

"Do not induce us": ancient Prayer of the children, in real life

Essence of God is: Love that does not betray or forsake; useless, confusing and blasphemous to ask a Father: 'Do not forsake me' [cf. Greek text]. Although it may be impressive to the outer ear.

The false mysticism of the forsaken Jesus (even by the Father!) does not educate; perhaps it fascinates, certainly confuses - and plagues.

Only the Spirit is guaranteed in prayer: the lucidity to understand the fruitfulness of the Cross, the gain in the loss, the life not in triumph but in death. And the strength to be faithful to one's own Calling, despite persecutions, even "internal" ones.

The community and individual souls, however, ask not to be placed in the extreme conditions of trial, well aware of their own limitation, their personal invincible precariousness, albeit redeemed.

This is the threshold that distinguishes religiosity and Faith: on the one hand, the 'safe' formula of the convinced and strong; on the other, a resigned and expectant prayer: of the unsteady, redeemed by love.

"Non c'indurre" is precisely [in the Latin and Greek sense: "introduce to the end"] an ancient Symbol of those reborn in Christ, in the experience of real life.

In religions there are clearly opposed demons and angels: disordered and dark powers, opposed to the luminous and 'proper' ones.

But by dint of pushing the former back, the worse ones continually resurface, until they win the game and run rampant.

In the lives of the saints, we see these great men strangely always under temptation - because they disdain evil, therefore they do not know it. Gradually, however, the continual nagging becomes uncontainable droves.

The woman and man of Faith do not act according to rushed and superficial pre-established models, not even religious ones; they are aware that they are not heroes or paradigm phenomena.

That is why they trust. They let their intimate problems pass them by: they have understood their power!

This is the meaning of the formula of the Lord's Prayer, in its original sense: 'do not carry us through the trial to the end, for we know our weakness'.

Such attention arises so that sin itself - by dint of denying it, then disguising it - does not paradoxically become the hidden protagonist of our path. The pivot of attention, which unfortunately engulfs thoughts, blocking the internal processes of spontaneous growth, perception of Grace and self-healing [in order to one's own unrepeatable Calling].

This would be the opposite of Redemption and Freedom, hence of Love: it is annihilated where there is a superior above - even God.

On the contrary, it is very fruitful to recover its energy, which has put us in touch with our deepest strata, for new horizons. And to take it on by making it one's own host, in its own right - to (only then) invest it in an unexpected and wise manner. 

If, on the other hand, our 'counterpart' becomes a constant afterthought and block, we are done for.

Sorrows, failures, sadness, frustrations, weaknesses, a thousand anxieties, too many downfalls, accustom us to experiencing evil as part of ourselves: a condition to be evaluated, not a 'fault' to be cut horizontally.

In the process of true salvific transmutation, that signal speaks of us: within a deviation or eccentricity there is a secret or knowledge to be found, to be reborn personally.

By casting our gaze on the discomforts and oppositions, we realise that these critical sides of being become like a malleable magma, which more quickly approaches healing. Like through a conversion, permanent, radical... because it involves and belongs to us; not artificial and peripheral, but fundamental, of Seed and Nature.

Absorbed schemas and convictions do not allow us to understand that passionate life is composed of opposing states, of competitive energies - which we must not disguise in order to be considered decent people.

Perceiving and integrating such depths, we lay down the idea and atmosphere of impending danger, devoid of further opportunities, only for death.

We become mature, without dissociation or hysterical states resulting from contrived identifications, nor disesteem for an important part of us.

In short, narrowness and 'crosses' have something to tell us.

They shake the soul at the root, sweep away the absorbed masks, ignite the person, and save life.

In this way, inconveniences and anxieties help us. They conceal capacities and possibilities that we do not yet see.

In the virtue of the shaky yet unique exceptionality of each person, the true path opens up.

Path of the Father and of the heart, Way that wants to guide us towards alternative trajectories, new dimensions of existence.

The difference of the Faith, compared to ancient religiosity [in the sense of the cross within]?

It is in the awareness that only the sick heal, only the incomplete grow.

Only the lame regain expression, evolve. And falling, they move forward.

Cf. Jn 16:23-28: Prayer in the Name: comm. quotid. Saturday 6th Easter

Cf. Mt 11,25-27: The only prayer of Jesus ever taught Wednesday 15.a

Prayer is the living relationship of the children of God with their Father who is good beyond measure, with his Son Jesus Christ and with the Holy Spirit (cf. CCC 2565). Therefore the life of prayer consists in being habitually in God’s presence and being aware of it, in living in a relationship with God as we live our customary relationships in life, with our dearest relatives, with true friends; indeed the relationship with the Lord is the relationship that gives light to all our other relationships. This communion of life with the Triune God is possible because through Baptism we have been incorporated into Christ, we have begun to be one with him (cf. Rom 6:5).

In fact, only through Christ can we converse with God the Father as children, otherwise it is not possible, but in communion with the Son we can also say, as he did, “Abba”. In communion with Christ we can know God as our true Father (cf. Mt 11:27). For this reason Christian prayer consists in looking constantly at Christ and in an ever new way, speaking to him, being with him in silence, listening to him, acting and suffering with him. The Christian rediscovers his true identity in Christ, “the first-born of all creation” in whom “all things hold together” (cf. Col 1,15ff.). In identifying with him, in being one with him, I rediscover my personal identity as a true son or daughter who looks to God as to a Father full of love.

But let us not forget: it is in the Church that we discover Christ, that we know him as a living Person. She is “his Body”. This corporeity can be understood on the basis of the biblical words about man and about woman: the two will be one flesh (cf. Gen 2:24; Eph 5:30ff.; 1 Cor 6:16f.). The indissoluble bond between Christ and the Church, through the unifying power of love, does not cancel the “you” and the “I” but on the contrary raises them to their highest unity. Finding one’s identity in Christ means reaching communion with him, that does not wipe me out but raises me to the loftiest dignity, that of a child of God in Christ: “The love-story between God and man consists in the very fact that this communion of will increases in a communion of thought and sentiment, and thus our will and God's will increasingly coincide” (Encyclical Deus Caritas Est, n. 17). Praying means raising oneself to God’s heights, through a necessary, gradual transformation of our being.

Thus, by participating in the liturgy we make our own the language of Mother Church, we learn to speak in her and for her. Of course, as I have already said, this happens gradually, little by little. I must immerse myself ever more deeply in the words of the Church with my prayer, with my life, with my suffering, with my joy, and with my thought. It is a process that transforms us.

I therefore think that these reflections enable us to answer the question we asked ourselves at the outset: how do I learn to pray, how do I develop in my prayer? Looking at the example which Jesus taught us, the Pater Noster [Our Father], we see that the first word [in Latin] is “Father” and the second is “our”. Thus the answer is clear, I learn to pray, I nourish my prayer by addressing God as Father and praying-with-others, praying with the Church, accepting the gift of his words which gradually become familiar to me and full of meaning. The dialogue that God establishes with each one of us, and we with him in prayer, always includes a “with”; it is impossible to pray to God in an individualistic manner. In liturgical prayer, especially the Eucharist and — formed by the liturgy — in every prayer, we do not only speak as individuals but on the contrary enter into the “we” of the Church that prays. And we must transform our “I”, entering into this “we”.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 3 October 2012]

Our Father, who art in heaven . . .".

We stand at the altar around which the whole Church is gathered in Sarajevo. We utter the words that Christ, Son of the Living God, taught us: Son consubstantial with the Father. He alone calls God "Father" (Abba - Father! My Father!) and He alone can authorise us to address God by calling Him "Father", "Our Father". He teaches us this prayer in which everything is contained. We wish to find in this prayer today what we can and must say to God - our Father, at this moment in history, here in Sarajevo.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven".

"I, the Bishop of Rome, the first Slavic Pope, kneel before You to cry out: "From plague, famine and war - deliver us!""

2. Our Father! Father of men: Father of peoples. Father of all peoples who dwell in the world. Father of the peoples of Europe. Of the peoples of the Balkans.

Father of the peoples who belong to the family of the South Slavs! Father of the peoples who have written their history here, on this peninsula, for centuries. Father of the peoples, touched unfortunately not for the first time by the cataclysm of war.

"Our Father . . .". I, Bishop of Rome, the first Slavic Pope, kneel before You to cry out: "From plague, famine and war - deliver us!" I know that in this plea many join me. Not only here in Sarajevo, in Bosnia and Herzegovina, but in the whole of Europe and beyond. I come here carrying with me the certainty of this prayer uttered by the hearts and lips of countless of my brothers and sisters. For so long they have been waiting for this very "great prayer" of the Church, of the people of God, to be fulfilled in this place. For so long, I myself have invited everyone to join in this prayer.

How can we not recall here the prayer made in Assisi in January last year? And then the one raised in Rome, in St Peter's Basilica, in January of this year? From the beginning of the tragic events in the Balkans, in the countries of former Yugoslavia, the guiding thought of the Church, and in particular of the Apostolic See, has been the prayer for peace.

3. Our Father, "hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come . . .". May your holy and merciful name shine among men. Thy kingdom come, kingdom of justice and peace, of forgiveness and love.

"Thy will be done . . .".

Thy will be done in the world, and particularly in this troubled land of the Balkans. Thou lovest not violence and hatred. Thou shun injustice and selfishness. Thou wilt that men be brothers to one another and acknowledge Thee as their Father.

Our Father, Father of every human being, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven". Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven!

4. It is Christ "our peace" (Eph 2:14). He who taught us to address God by calling him "Father".

He who by His blood conquered the mystery of iniquity and division, and by His Cross broke down the massive wall that separated men, making them strangers to one another; He who reconciled humanity with God and united men among themselves as brothers.

That is why Christ was able to say one day to the Apostles, before his sacrifice on the Cross: 'I leave you peace, I give you my peace. Not as the world gives it, I give it to you" (John 14: 27). It is then that he promised the Spirit of Truth, who is at the same time Spirit of Love, Spirit of Peace!

Come, Holy Spirit! "Veni, creator Spiritus, mentes tuorum visita . . .!" "Come, Creator Spirit, visit our minds, fill with your grace the hearts you have created".

Come, Holy Spirit! We invoke you from this city of Sarajevo, crossroads of tensions between different cultures and nations, where the fuse was lit which, at the beginning of the century, triggered the First World War, and where, at the end of the second millennium, similar tensions are concentrated, capable of destroying peoples called by history to work together in harmonious coexistence.

Come, Spirit of peace! Through you we cry out: "Abba, Father" (Rom 8:15).

Give us this day our daily bread . . .".

Praying for bread means praying for all that is necessary for life. Let us pray that, in the distribution of resources among individuals and peoples, the principle of a universal sharing of mankind in God's created goods may always be realised.

Let us pray that the use of resources in armaments will not damage or even destroy the heritage of culture, which constitutes the highest good of humanity. Let us pray that restrictive measures, deemed necessary to curb the conflict, will not cause inhuman suffering to the defenceless population. Every man, every family has a right to its 'daily bread'.

6. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us . . .".

With these words we touch upon the crucial issue. Christ himself warned us of this, who, dying on the cross, said of his slayers: 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do' (Lk 23:34).

The history of men, peoples and nations is full of mutual resentment and injustice. How important was the historic expression addressed by the Polish Bishops to their German brethren at the end of the Second Vatican Council: 'Let us forgive and ask forgiveness'! If peace has been possible in that region of Europe, it seems to have come about thanks to the attitude effectively expressed by those words.

Today we want to pray for the renewal of a similar gesture: "Let us forgive and ask forgiveness" for our brothers in the Balkans! Without this attitude it is difficult to build peace. The spiral of 'guilt' and 'punishment' will never be closed, if at some point forgiveness is not achieved.

Forgiveness does not mean forgetting. If memory is the law of history, forgiveness is the power of God, the power of Christ acting in the affairs of men and peoples.

7. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil . . .".

Lead us not into temptation! What are the temptations that we ask the Father to remove today? They are those that make the heart of man a heart of stone, insensitive to the call of forgiveness and concord. They are the temptations of ethnic prejudices, which make one indifferent to the rights of others and their suffering. They are the temptations of exaggerated nationalisms, which lead to the overpowering of one's neighbour and the lust for revenge. They are all the temptations in which the civilisation of death expresses itself.

Faced with the desolating spectacle of human failures, let us pray with the words of Venerable Brother Bartholomew I, Patriarch of the Church of Constantinople: "Lord, make our hearts of stone crumble at the sight of your suffering and become hearts of flesh. Let your Cross dissolve our prejudices. With the vision of your agonising struggle against death, flee our indifference or our rebellion" (Way of the Cross at the Colosseum, Good Friday 1990, Opening Prayer).

Deliver us from evil! Here is another word that belongs completely to Christ and his Gospel. "I did not come to condemn the world, but to save the world" (Jn 12:47). Humanity is called to salvation in Christ and through Christ. To this salvation are also called the nations that the current war has so terribly divided!

Let us pray today for the saving power of the Cross to help overcome the historic temptation of hatred. Enough of the countless destructions! Let us pray - following the rhythm of the Lord's prayer - that the time of reconstruction, the time of peace, may begin.

Pray with us the dead of Sarajevo, whose remains lie in the nearby cemetery. They pray for all the victims of this cruel war, who in the light of God invoke reconciliation and peace for the survivors.

8. "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God" (Mt 5:9). This is what Jesus told us in today's Gospel passage. Yes, dear Brothers and Sisters, we shall be truly blessed, if we make ourselves peacemakers of that peace that only Christ knows how to give (cf. Jn 14:27), indeed Christ himself. "Christ is our peace". We shall become peacemakers, if like him we are willing to forgive.

"Father, forgive them!" (Lk 23:34). Christ from the Cross offers forgiveness and also asks us to follow him on the arduous way of the Cross to obtain his peace. Only by accepting this invitation of his can we prevent selfishness, nationalism and violence from continuing to sow destruction and death.

Evil, in all its manifestations, constitutes a mystery of iniquity, in the face of which the voice of God, which we heard in the First Reading, rises up clear and decisive: "Thus speaks the High and Exalted . . . In high and holy place I dwell, but I am also with the oppressed and the humiliated" (Is 57:15). In these prophetic words is contained for all an invitation to a serious examination of conscience.

God is on the side of the oppressed: he is with the parents who mourn their murdered children, he listens to the helpless cry of the downtrodden, he is in solidarity with women humiliated by violence, he is close to refugees forced to leave their land and homes. He does not forget the suffering of families, the elderly, widows, young people and children. It is his people who are dying.

We must put an end to such barbarity! No more war! No more destructive fury! It is no longer possible to tolerate a situation that produces only fruits of death: killings, destroyed cities, ruined economies, hospitals lacking medicines, sick and elderly abandoned, families in tears and torn apart. A just peace must be achieved as soon as possible. Peace is possible if the priority of moral values over the claims of race or force is recognised.

9. Dear Brothers and Sisters! At this moment, together with you, I raise to the Lord the psalmist's cry: "Help us, God, our salvation, for the glory of your name, save us and forgive us our sins" (Ps 79:9).

Let us entrust this plea of ours to her who "stood" beneath the Cross silent and praying (cf. Jn 19:25). Let us look to the Blessed Virgin, whose Nativity the Church joyfully celebrates today.

It is significant that this visit of mine, long desired, has been able to take place on this Marian feast so dear to you. With Mary's birth there has blossomed in the world the hope of a new humanity no longer oppressed by selfishness, hatred, violence and the many other forms of sin that have stained the paths of history with blood. We ask Mary Most Holy that the day of full reconciliation and peace may also dawn for this land of yours.

Queen of peace, pray for us!

[Pope John Paul II, in connection with Sarajevo, 8 September 1994]

Continuing the catecheses on the ‘Lord’s Prayer’, today we shall begin with the observation that in the New Testament, the prayer seems to arrive at the essential, actually focusing on a single word: Abba, Father.

We have heard what Saint Paul writes in the Letter to the Romans: “you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of sonship. When we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’”(8:15). And the Apostle says to the Galatians: “And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Gal 4:6). The same invocation, in which all the novelty of the Gospel is condensed, recurs twice. After meeting Jesus and hearing his preaching, a Christian no longer considers God as a tyrant to be feared; he is no longer afraid but feels trust in Him expand in his heart: he can speak with the Creator by calling him ‘Father’. The expression is so important for Christians that it is often preserved intact, in its original form: ‘Abba’.

In the New Testament it is rare for Aramaic expressions to be translated into Greek. We have to imagine that the voice of Jesus himself has remained in these Aramaic words as if ‘recorded’: they have respected Jesus’ idiom. In the first words of the ‘Our Father’ we immediately find the radical newness of Christian prayer.

It does not simply use a symbol — in this case, the father figure — to connect to the mystery of God; it is instead about having, so to speak, Jesus’ entire world poured into one’s heart. If we do this, we can truly pray the ‘Our Father’. Saying ‘Abba’ is something much more intimate, more moving than simply calling God ‘Father’. This is why someone has proposed translating this original Aramaic word ‘Abba’ with ‘Dad’ or ‘Papa’. Instead of saying ‘our Father’, saying ‘Dad, Papa’. We shall continue to say ‘our Father’ but with the heart we are invited to say ‘Dad’, to have a relationship with God like that of a child with his dad, who says ‘dad’ and says ‘papa’. Indeed, these expressions evoke affection, they evoke warmth, something that casts us into the context of childhood: the image of a child completely enveloped in the embrace of a father who feels infinite tenderness for him. And for this reason, dear brothers and sisters, in order to pray properly, one must come to have a child’s heart. Not a self-sufficient heart: one cannot pray properly this way. Like a child in the arms of his father, of his dad, of his papa.

But of course the Gospels better explain the meaning of this word. What does this word mean to Jesus? The ‘Our Father’ takes on meaning and colour if we learn to pray it after having read, for example, the Parable of the Merciful Father, in Chapter 15 of Luke (cf. Lk 15:11-32). Let us imagine this prayer recited by the prodigal son, after having experienced the embrace of his father who had long awaited him, a father who does not remember the offensive words the son had said to him, a father who now simply makes him understand how much he has been missed. Thus we discover how those words become vibrant, receive strength. And let us ask ourselves: is it possible that You, O God, really know only love? Do you not know hatred? No — God would respond — I know only love.

Where in You is vengeance, the demand for justice, anger at your wounded honour? And God would respond: I know only love.

In that parable the father’s manner of conduct somehow recalls the spirit of a mother. It is especially mothers who excuse their children, who protect them, who do not suspend empathy for them, who continue to love them, even when they would no longer deserve anything.

It is enough to evoke this single expression — Abba — for Christian prayer to develop. And in his Letters, Saint Paul follows this same path, because it is the path taught by Jesus: in this invocation there is a force that draws all the rest of the prayer.

God seeks you, even if you do not seek him. God loves you, even if you have forgotten about him. God glimpses beauty in you, even if you think you have squandered all your talents in vain. God is not only a father; he is like a mother who never stops loving her little child. On the other hand, there is a ‘gestation’ that lasts forever, well beyond the nine months of the physical one; it is a gestation that engenders an infinite cycle of love.

For a Christian, praying is simply saying ‘Abba’; it is saying ‘Dad’, saying ‘Papa’, saying ‘Father’ but with a child’s trust.

It may be that we too happen to walk on paths far from God, as happened to the prodigal son; or to sink into a loneliness that makes us feel abandoned in the world; or, even to make mistakes and be paralyzed by a sense of guilt. In those difficult moments, we can still find the strength to pray, to begin again with the word ‘Abba’, but said with the tender feeling of a child: ‘Abba’, ‘Dad’. He does not hide his face from us. Remember well: perhaps one has bad things within, things he does not know how to resolve, much bitterness for having done this and that.... He does not hide His face. He does not close himself off in silence. Say ‘Father’ to Him and He will answer you. You have a father. ‘Yes, but I am a delinquent...’. But you have a father who loves you! Say ‘Father’ to him, start to pray in this way, and in the silence he will tell us that he has never lost sight of us. ‘But Father, I have done this...’. — ‘I have never lost sight of you; I have seen everything. But I have always been there, close to you, faithful to my love for you’. That will be his answer. Never forget to say ‘Father’. Thank you.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 16 January 2019]

8th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  March 2nd, 2025

 God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

*First Reading from the Book of Sirach (27:4-7)

 This is a book of the Bible that has had a rather eventful journey. To begin with, it bears three names: Ben Sira the Wise, Sirach, and Ecclesiasticus. Sirach or Ben Sira are two similar names, both related to his family name. "Ben" means "son of", so the author is the son of Sira. At the end of the book, he signs himself 'Jesus, son of Sira', which offers a further indication, since Jesus is a typically Jewish name. It is therefore a Jew from Jerusalem writing in Hebrew, and the title 'the Wise' makes it clear that this is neither a historical nor a prophetic book, but one of those books called 'sapiential'. It is called Ecclesiastical because in the first centuries of Christianity, the Church made the newly baptised read this book to complete their moral education. The book was written by Ben Sira in Jerusalem in Hebrew around 180 B.C., translated into Greek some fifty years later, around 130 B.C. by his own nephew in Alexandria. In the Bible, Sirach occupies a special place: it belongs to the books called 'deuterocanonical'. In fact, when at the end of the first century A.D. the doctors of the law definitively established the official list of writings considered part of the Bible, not all the books circulating in Israel were included. Some texts were recognised by all as the Word of God - for example, the Book of Genesis or Exodus. But for some more recent texts, the question remained open. Sirach was among them and was eventually excluded because to enter the official canon of the Hebrew Bible, a book had to be written in Hebrew and written in the land of Israel. But at the time the canon was established (late 1st century AD), the Hebrew original of Sirach was lost and only the Greek translation circulated in Alexandria. For this reason, the book was not accepted by the Jewish communities in the land of Israel. However, in the Jewish communities of the diaspora (especially in Alexandria), it was already considered part of the Bible, so it continued to be recognised.

The Christian community, on the other hand, received it through the Greek-speaking communities, and thus Sirach became part of the Christian biblical canon.  The author, Ben Sira, may have founded a school of wisdom in Jerusalem and this is deduced from the last chapters of the book, which appear to be a collection of teachings for young Jewish students, apprentice philosophers, in Jerusalem around 180 BC.  

Jerusalem at that time was under Greek rule, but the occupation was relatively liberal and peaceful as persecution began later, under Antiochus Epiphanes, around 165 BC. However, although the Greek power respected the Jewish religion, the contact between the two cultures endangered the purity of the faith.

This excessive cultural openness could lead to dangerous syncretism, a problem similar to that of our time: we live in an age of tolerance that can easily turn into religious indifference. Is it not true that today we are like in a supermarket of ideas and values, where everyone takes what they prefer and this even seems logical and to be accepted as the best choice?  One of Ben Sira's goals was to convey the Jewish faith in its integrity, in particular the love for God's Law (Torah). According to him, true wisdom resided in the Law of Israel. Israel had to preserve its identity and faith in order to keep alive the teaching of the Fathers in faith and purity of customs, and these were considered to be the fundamental principles for the survival of the chosen people. 

Coming to the content, the book is like a collection of sayings and proverbs that are interesting but not always immediately understandable to us, because they use images and sayings belonging to another culture. In today's text, Ben Sira uses three images that were very common at the time. If gold is passed through a sieve, the slag is evident; when a pot is baked in the oven, one can immediately see if it has been well worked, and a healthy tree produces good fruit. So then, just as the sieve separates the gold from the impurities, the fire of the oven reveals the qualities of the pot and from the fruit we can tell whether the tree is healthy or diseased, so our words reveal the true nature of our heart because only a good heart will speak good words. About two hundred years later, Jesus teaches the same thing as we read in this Sunday's gospel: "The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; the evil man out of his evil treasure brings forth evil: for his mouth expresses that which out of his heart overflows" (Lk 6:45). Our words are the mirror of our heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (91 (92), 2-3. 13-14. 15-16)

Israel accused God of deception in the Sinai desert when dehydration threatened men and animals: the famous episode of Massa and Meriba (Ex 17:1-7).  God, however, proved greater than the wrath of his people: he caused water to spring from a rock. Since then, God has been called our rock as a reminder of his faithfulness, steadier than all the suspicions of the people. From this rock Israel drew the water of its survival... but more importantly, over the centuries, it became the source of its faith and trust. This concept is expressed at the end of the psalm: 'to proclaim how righteous is the Lord, my rock'. The reference to the rock recalls the experience of the desert and the faithfulness of God, stronger than any rebellion. The expression "your love and your faithfulness" (v. 3) also recalls the experience of the desert: they are the words that God himself used to reveal himself to his people: "The Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, rich in faithfulness and loyalty..." an expression taken up many times in the Bible, especially in the Psalms, as a sign of the Covenant between God and his people: "God of love and faithfulness, slow to anger and rich in mercy" (Ex 34:6).  The episode of Massa and Meriba - the trial in the wilderness, the people's suspicion, God's intervention - was repeated so often that Israel ended up realising that it was a constant risk: man is always tempted to be suspicious of God when things do not go as he wishes. The Garden of Eden story helps to understand this important lesson: the cunning serpent manages to convince the progenitors that it is God who is deceiving them. In fact, he misrepresents God's thinking by claiming that he forbids them the best fruits under the guise of protecting them when in fact it is the opposite and Adam and Eve allow themselves to be deceived. Unfortunately, it is a story that repeats itself throughout history and how is it possible to avoid demonic deception? This psalm helps us by suggesting that we should have confidence: "It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, to proclaim in the morning your love, your faithfulness through the night. It is indeed good for us to praise the Lord and sing to his name, and Israel understood that praising, singing to God is good for man himself. St Augustine said it clearly: "Everything that man does for God, benefits man and not God." Singing for God, opening our eyes to his love and faithfulness, day and night, protects us from the wiles of the serpent. In this psalm, the expression "it is good" corresponds to the Hebrew term "tôv", the same used to say "good to eat", but to know it, one must have experienced it, and that is why the psalm adds in verse 7 (which we do not read today): "The foolish man does not know them and the foolish man does not understand", but the believer knows "how righteous is the Lord, my rock: in him there is no wickedness".  Only an unshakeable trust in God's love can illuminate man's life in all circumstances, while distrust and suspicion completely distort our view of reality. To be suspicious of God is a deadly trap. He who trusts in God is like a tree that is always green, always maintaining its sap and freshness (cf. Psalm 1). Jesus spoke of "living water" taking up an image familiar to the people of the time. Not only is it good for ourselves to praise and sing God's love, but it is also good for others to hear it from us. For this purpose, the psalm repeats at the beginning and end: 'It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, and to proclaim your love'. "To proclaim" means to proclaim to others, to unbelievers: once again, Israel recalls its mission as a witness to God's love for all men. To conclude, I note that this psalm bears a heading: 'Psalm for the Sabbath day', the day par excellence on which God's love and faithfulness are sung. One could make this psalm the psalm for Sunday, because for us Sunday is the celebration of God's love and faithfulness which in Jesus Christ have been manifested in a definitive way. 

*Second Reading from the First Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:54-58)

 For several weeks now we have been reading chapter 15 of Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, which is a long reflection on the Resurrection. Today Paul concludes his meditation with a cry of triumph: 'Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ' (v 57). It is the victory of the Resurrection because, as he writes, what is corruptible in us will become incorruptible, what is mortal will clothe immortality (v 53): immortality, incorruptibility are God's prerogatives. Only in this way will we become in the image and likeness of God, according to the original plan announced and realised throughout the entire itinerary of the Bible, with humanity's many failures and God's continuous interventions to save his plan of love. It is the plan of salvation: that is, God saves us in order to be truly happy and accomplishes it through various stages that the letter to the Ephesians summarises as follows: "making known to us the mystery of his will, according to the kindness which in him he had purposed for the government of the fullness of time: to bring all things, those in heaven and those on earth, back to Christ, the one head". (Eph 1:9-10). In creating humanity, the Lord had the plan to make it happy, united, filled with the Spirit of God, admitted to share in the life of the Trinity. A plan that has never failed and subsists forever because the designs of God's heart endure from generation to generation (cf. Ps 32/33). This is noted by the prophet Isaiah: "My plan shall endure and all that pleases me I will fulfil" (Is 46:1) and also Jeremiah: "I know the plans I have made for you - the Lord's oracle - plans of prosperity and not of misfortune: I will give you a future and a hope" (Jer 29:11). Human history therefore has meaning, significance and direction. That is, we know where we are going and the years do not all follow one another in the same way, because God has a project, a definite plan. We are oriented towards the future and we wait for this plan to be fulfilled by praying with our Father, that his kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. However, history testifies that humanity is falling short of this plan and people do not seem to cooperate. God respects our freedom and we often seem unwilling to listen to God's voice because it is a project that exceeds our rational perspectives. But why wonder? St Paul says that this project - he calls it the mystery of God's will - exceeds us and is unthinkable for us. Humanity, however, has two choices: accept the project and strive to advance it, or reject it and look elsewhere for our own happiness. Adam is the example of one who refuses and takes another direction, to his own detriment. God, however, remains patient and will save his project by not allowing himself to be discouraged by man's ill will because no one and nothing can extinguish the fire of God's love for us. We read in the Song of Songs that "Great waters could not quench Love and rivers would not submerge it" (Song 8:6-7a). Therein lies our hope, which Paul vigorously proclaims: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?". It is certainly not biological death that separates us from him and our brothers, for we shall rise again, but spiritual death, the consequence of sin. Yet sin too is defeated by Jesus Christ: henceforth, grafted into the risen Christ, we can live like him and with him win the game of love. Indeed, Paul affirms that the victory is already won: contrary to what it seems, death and sin are the great losers and God's plan is saved: Jesus, with the forgiveness given to all, frees us from our sins and, if we want, the door is open to the Holy Spirit. We can then live the love and fraternity for which we are created. St Paul's cry of triumph resounds in us: "Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" All that remains is for us to continue in the commitment of the struggle with Christ: "Therefore, my beloved brethren, remain steadfast and unshakable, making ever greater progress in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labour is not in vain in the Lord". 

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (6:39-45)

 We find here several instructions of Jesus that are like warnings concerning relationships within the Christian community, recommendations that are also present in the gospels of Matthew and John although in no particular order and proclaimed in different contexts. St Luke grouped them here because he probably saw a link between them and it is precisely this link that we seek to understand together. To better proceed we divide the text into two parts: the first is a reflection on the gaze, while the second is the metaphor of the tree and the fruit. In the first part, Jesus develops the theme of the gaze and begins with an observation: a blind man cannot guide another blind man, and the message is clear: we must be very careful because when we act as guides, we must not forget that we are blind from birth. The apologue of the mote and the beam goes in this direction since with a beam in one's eye, one is truly blind and cannot claim to cure the blindness of others. Between these two observations, Luke inserts a phrase that at first sight seems enigmatic: 'A disciple is no more than the teacher; but everyone who is well prepared will be like his teacher'. The preparation Jesus speaks of is, in a sense, the healing of us who are blind. It is Luke himself who notes that the disciples of Emmaus only began to see clearly when "Jesus opened their minds to the understanding of the Scriptures" (Lk 24:45). Since Jesus came into the world to open the eyes of the blind, his disciples, healed by him from their blindness, also have the mission to bring the light of revelation to the world. What the prophet Isaiah said about the servant of God, in the so-called servant songs, is true for Jesus Christ, but also for his disciples: "I have destined you to be the light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free from prison the captive and from prison those who dwell in darkness" (Is 42:6-7). This is a very interesting mission, which we can only cope with by always remaining under the light of the Master and letting him heal our blindness. The evangelist then moves without transition to the metaphor of the tree and the fruit, which suggests that the theme is still the same: the true disciple, who allows himself to be enlightened by Jesus Christ, bears good fruit, but he who, on the contrary, does not allow Jesus Christ to enlighten him, remains in his blindness and produces bad fruit. It is now necessary to understand what fruits are involved. Taking into account that the text is after an entire discourse of Jesus on mutual love, we can understand that the fruits are related to our behaviour. The guiding rule is "Be merciful as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:36).  It was not difficult for Jesus' contemporaries to understand this language: they knew that the Father expects fruits of justice and mercy from us, which can be both actions and words because "the mouth speaks from the fullness of the heart" (Lk 6:45). In the first reading we read that the fruit manifests the quality of the tree; in the same way the word reveals the feelings and one should not praise anyone before he has spoken, because it is precisely his word that allows one to judge him. It is truly extraordinary how in a few words Luke has developed the whole Christian mystery: when we allow ourselves to be formed by Christ we are transformed in our whole being: in our gaze, behaviour and language. A teaching that returns often in the New Testament as, for example, in the Letter to the Philippians: "You shine like stars in the world, holding fast the word of life" (Phil 2:15-16), or in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Once you were darkness, now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light. The fruit of light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth" (Eph 5:8). The first step is to learn to look at others as God looks at them: with a gaze that does not judge, that does not condemn, that does not take pleasure in pointing out a speck in the other's eye, that is, in noticing something really tiny. Just as the straw is blown away by the wind and therefore without depth and importance, so too must the faults of others be counted. If Jesus does not give them importance, the disciple well trained in his school will be like his master. This sentence is followed by the whole discourse on God's mercy and our vocation to be like him, a very ambitious life programme: love your enemies, be merciful, do not judge, do not condemn because your Father is merciful and we are called to be his image in the world. Jesus concludes thus: the mouth of the disciple expresses that which overflows from the heart. To become God's image, the secret is to immerse ourselves in his Word.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Short Commentary:

*First Reading from the Book of Sirach (27:4-7)

 This is a book of the Bible that has had a rather eventful journey. To begin with, it bears three names: Ben Sira the Wise, Sirach, and Ecclesiasticus. Sirach or Ben Sira are two similar names, both related to his family name. "Ben" means "son of", so the author is the son of Sira. At the end of the book, he signs himself 'Jesus, son of Sira', which offers a further indication, since Jesus is a typically Jewish name. It is therefore a Jew from Jerusalem writing in Hebrew, and the title 'the Wise' makes it clear that this is neither a historical nor a prophetic book, but one of those books called 'sapiential'. It is called Ecclesiastical because in the first centuries of Christianity, the Church made the newly baptised read this book to complete their moral education. The book was written by Ben Sira in Jerusalem in Hebrew around 180 B.C., translated into Greek some fifty years later, around 130 B.C. by his own nephew in Alexandria. In the Bible, Sirach occupies a special place: it belongs to the books called 'deuterocanonical'. In fact, when at the end of the first century A.D. the doctors of the law definitively fixed the official list of writings considered part of the Bible, not all the books that circulated in Israel were included. Some texts were recognised by all as the Word of God - for example, the Book of Genesis or Exodus. But for some more recent texts, the question remained open. Sirach was among them and was eventually excluded because to enter the official canon of the Hebrew Bible, a book had to be written in Hebrew and written in the land of Israel. But at the time the canon was established (late 1st century AD), the Hebrew original of Sirach was lost and only the Greek translation circulated in Alexandria. For this reason, the book was not accepted by the Jewish communities in the land of Israel. However, in the Jewish communities of the diaspora (especially in Alexandria), it was already considered part of the Bible, so it continued to be recognised. The Christian community, on the other hand, received it through the Greek-speaking communities, and thus Sirach became part of the Christian biblical canon. 

Turning to the content, the book is like a collection of maxims and proverbs using images and sayings belonging to another culture. In today's text, Ben Sira uses three images that were very common at the time. If gold is passed through a sieve, the slag is evident; when a pot is baked in the oven, one can see at once whether it has been well worked, and a healthy tree produces good fruit. So then, just as the sieve separates the gold from the impurities, the fire of the oven reveals the qualities of the pot and from the fruit one can tell whether the tree is healthy or diseased, so our words reveal the true nature of our heart because only a good heart will speak good words. Jesus teaches the same thing as we read in this Sunday's gospel: "The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; the evil man out of his evil treasure brings forth evil: for his mouth expresses that which out of his heart overflows" (Lk 6:45). Our words are the mirror of our heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (91 (92), 2-3. 13-14. 15-16)

Israel accused God of deception in the Sinai desert when dehydration threatened men and animals: the famous episode of Massa and Meriba (Ex 17:1-7).  God, however, proved greater than the wrath of his people: he caused water to spring from a rock. Since then, God has been called our rock as a reminder of his faithfulness, steadier than all the suspicions of the people. From this rock Israel drew the water of its survival... but more importantly, over the centuries, it became the source of its faith and trust. This concept is expressed at the end of the psalm: 'to proclaim how righteous is the Lord, my rock'. In the Garden of Eden story, the cunning serpent manages to convince the progenitors that it is God who is deceiving them. In fact, he misrepresents God's thinking by claiming that he forbids them the best fruits under the guise of protecting them when in fact it is the opposite and Adam and Eve allow themselves to be deceived. Unfortunately, it is a story that repeats itself throughout history and how is it possible to avoid demonic deception? This psalm helps us by suggesting that we should have confidence: "It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, to proclaim in the morning your love, your faithfulness through the night". Singing for God is good for man above all, and St Augustine said it clearly: "Everything that man does for God, benefits man and not God." Singing for God, opening our eyes to his love and his faithfulness, day and night, protects us from the wiles of the serpent. Only an unwavering trust in God's love can illuminate man's life in all circumstances, while distrust and suspicion completely distort our view of reality. To be suspicious of God is a deadly trap. He who trusts in God is like an evergreen tree, which always retains its sap and freshness (cf. Psalm 1). To conclude, I note that this psalm bears a heading: 'Psalm for the Sabbath day', the day par excellence on which God's love and faithfulness are sung. One could make this psalm the psalm for Sunday, because for us Sunday is the celebration of God's love and faithfulness, which in Jesus Christ were manifested in a definitive way.  

*Second Reading from the First Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:54-58)

 For several weeks now we have been reading chapter 15 of Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, which is a long reflection on the Resurrection. Today Paul concludes his meditation with a cry of triumph: 'Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ' (v 57). It is the victory of the Resurrection because, as he writes, what is corruptible in us will become incorruptible, what is mortal will clothe immortality (v 53): immortality, incorruptibility are God's prerogatives. Only in this way will we become in the image and likeness of God, according to the original plan announced and realised throughout the Bible's entire itinerary, with humanity's many failures and God's continuous interventions to save his plan of love. In creating humanity, the Lord had the plan to make it happy, united, filled with the Spirit of God, admitted to share in the life of the Trinity. A plan that has never failed and subsists forever because the designs of God's heart endure from generation to generation (cf. Ps 32/33). Human history therefore has meaning, significance and direction. That is, we know where we are going and the years do not all follow one another in the same way, because God has a project, a precise plan. We are oriented towards the future and we wait for this plan to be fulfilled by praying with our Father, that his kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. However, history testifies that humanity is falling short of this plan and people do not seem to cooperate. God respects our freedom and we often seem unwilling to listen to God's voice because it is a project that exceeds our rational perspectives. But why wonder? St Paul says that this project - he calls it the mystery of God's will - exceeds us and is unthinkable for us. Humanity, however, has two choices: accept the project and strive to advance it, or reject it and look elsewhere for our own happiness. Adam is the example of one who refuses and takes another direction, to his own detriment. God, however, remains patient and will save his project by not allowing himself to be discouraged by man's ill will because no one and nothing can extinguish the fire of God's love for us. It is certainly not biological death that separates us from him and our brothers, for we shall rise again, but spiritual death, the consequence of sin. Yet sin too is defeated by Jesus Christ: henceforth, grafted into the risen Christ, we can live like him and with him win the game of love. Indeed, Paul affirms that the victory is already won: contrary to what it seems, death and sin are the great losers and God's plan is saved: Jesus, with the forgiveness given to all, frees us from our sins and, if we want, the door is open to the Holy Spirit. We can then live the love and fraternity for which we are created.

*From the Gospel according to St Luke (6:39-45)

 We find here several instructions from Jesus that are like warnings concerning relationships within the Christian community, recommendations that are also present in the gospels of Matthew and John although in no particular order and proclaimed in different contexts. St Luke grouped them here because he probably saw a link between them and it is precisely this link that we are trying to understand together. To better proceed we divide the text into two parts: the first is a reflection on the gaze, while the second is the metaphor of the tree and the fruit. In the first part, Jesus develops the theme of gaze and begins with an observation: a blind man cannot guide another blind man, and the message is clear: we must be very careful because when we act as guides, we must not forget that we are blind from birth. The apologue of the mote and the beam goes in this direction since with a beam in one's eye, one is truly blind and cannot claim to cure the blindness of others. Between these two observations, Luke inserts a phrase that at first sight seems enigmatic: 'A disciple is no more than the teacher; but everyone who is well prepared will be like his teacher'. The preparation Jesus speaks of is, in a sense, the healing of us who are blind. It is Luke himself who notes that the disciples of Emmaus only began to see clearly when "Jesus opened their minds to the understanding of the Scriptures" (Lk 24:45). Since Jesus came into the world to open the eyes of the blind, his disciples, healed by him from their blindness, also have the mission to bring the light of revelation to the world. This is a very interesting mission, which we can only cope with by always remaining under the light of the Master and letting him heal our blindness. The evangelist then moves without transition to the metaphor of the tree and the fruit, which suggests that the theme is still the same: the true disciple, who allows himself to be enlightened by Jesus Christ, bears good fruit, but he who, on the contrary, does not allow Jesus Christ to enlighten him, remains in his blindness and produces bad fruit. It is now necessary to understand what fruits are involved. Taking into account that the text is after an entire discourse of Jesus on mutual love, we can understand that the fruits are related to our behaviour. The guiding rule is "Be merciful as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:36).  In the first reading we read that the fruit manifests the quality of the tree; similarly, the word reveals the feelings and one should not praise anyone before he has spoken, because it is precisely his word that allows one to judge him. It is truly extraordinary how in a few words Luke has developed the entire Christian mystery: when we allow ourselves to be formed by Christ we are transformed in our whole being: in our gaze, behaviour and language. The fruit of light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth" (Eph 5:8). The first step consists in learning to look at others as God looks at them: with a gaze that does not judge, that does not condemn, that does not take pleasure in pointing out a speck in the other person's eye, that is, in noticing something really tiny. Just as the straw is blown away by the wind and therefore without depth and importance, so too must the faults of others be counted. If Jesus does not give them importance, the disciple well trained in his school will be like his master. Jesus concludes thus: the mouth of the disciple expresses that which overflows from the heart. To become the image of God, the secret is to immerse ourselves in his Word.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

May the Lord bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

7th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C (23 February 2025)

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26,2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 BC. The texts say that "no son of Israel was more handsome than he, and he surpassed from the shoulder upwards anyone else of the people" (1 Sam 9:2). He was a peasant from a simple family in the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. Saul was anointed with oil and bore the title 'messiah'.  After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to seek David" (v. 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  Why does the Bible recount this episode? There are certainly several reasons. Firstly, the sacred author wants to paint a portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, refusing vengeance and understanding that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin by finding some good reason to love some of them. David spares a dangerous enemy because he was, in his time, God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected everywhere because the image of God is marked in him. We are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm is encountered several times in the three liturgical years and we can admire the parallelism of the verses, a kind of alternation of verses that answer each other. It would be good to recite or sing it in two voices, line by line or in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul" ... Second chorus: "May all that is in me bless his holy name" ... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins ... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the blessings, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "He forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not treat us according to our sins nor repay us according to our faults. As far as the east is from the west, so he turns away our faults from us." Several times we have noted this: one of the great discoveries of the Bible is that God is only love and forgiveness. And that is precisely why he is so different from us and constantly surprises us. When the prophet Isaiah says: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, says God; your ways are not my ways" (55:6-8), he invites us to seek the Lord while he is being found, to call upon him while he is near. He invites the ungodly to forsake his way and the perverse man his thoughts, and adds: 'Return to the Lord who will have mercy on him, to our God who graciously forgives' - and adds - 'because my thoughts are not your thoughts'. Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; he will never force us and so we go to him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means accepting to see that person again, to extend our hand to them, to welcome them at our table or in our home anyway; it means risking a smile; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is neither forgetting nor erasing what has happened because nothing will erase it, whether it is good or bad. There are offences that can never be forgotten because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that gives greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. Only in the Messiah fully dwells the very Spirit of God, which guides his every action. To argue, Paul refers to Genesis, in which he reads the vocation of mankind, but does not interpret it historically. For him, Adam is a type of man or, rather, a type of behaviour. This reading may seem unusual to us, but we must get used to reading the creation texts in Genesis not as an account of events, but as accounts of vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not considered an event of the past because the Bible speaks much more of God the Creator than of Creation; it speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The act of creation is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" in the first account (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it" in the second account (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly". And St John observes: 'Beloved, even now we are children of God, but what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We know, however, that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2). The perfect image of God in Jesus Christ, the apostles saw it on the face of Christ during the Transfiguration.

Note: the serpent crawling on the ground tempts mankind (Adam - adam man related to adamah earth, is not the name of a person but indicates the whole of mankind made of earth Gn1,26-27) and the name of the serpent is nahash a word that can mean either serpent or the dragon of Revelation: Gn3,15; Rev 12)

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and you will then be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient, because, as St Peter says, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day (cf. 2 Pet 3:8) and he educates his people with such patience, as we read in Deuteronomy: "As a man corrects his son, so the Lord your God corrects you" (Deut 8:5). This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. Let us take the account of the Garden of Eden: God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures. God had in fact conceived Adam as the king of creation: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, over the cattle, over all the wild beasts, and over all the reptiles that creep upon the earth" (Gen 1:26). And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, that he was superior: "Man gave a name to all the animals, to the birds of the air, and to all the wild beasts; but for man he found no helper to match him" (Gen 2:20). Man did not find his equal. But two chapters later, we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you"... "Love your enemies, do good and lend without hoping for anything in return". And so the ending surprises us a little: up to this point, although it was not easy, at least it was logical. God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and it will be given to you: a good measure, pressed down, shaken and overflowing will be poured into your lap, for with the measure with which you measure, it will be measured to you in return' (Lk 6:37-38). Have we returned to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: in order not to fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken. As for the phrase: "Your reward will be great and you will be children of the Most High", it expresses the wonderment experienced by those who conform to the Christian ideal of meekness and forgiveness. It is the profound transformation that takes place in them: for they have opened the door to the Spirit of God, and he dwells in them and inspires them more and more. Little by little they see the promise formulated by the prophet Ezekiel fulfilled in them: "I will give you a new heart, I will put a new spirit within you; I will take away from you the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." (Ez 36:26).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Summary on request: Short commentary.

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26.2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 B.C. He was a peasant from a simple family of the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the Covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to search for David" (v 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  The sacred author wants to outline the portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, who refuses revenge and understands that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin to find some good reason to love some, and David spares a dangerous enemy because as king he is God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected because we are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm would be good to recite or sing in two voices, in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul"... Second chorus: "Let all that is in me bless his holy name"... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the benefits, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "For he forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our faults... "for my thoughts are not your thoughts". Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; He will never force us and so we go to Him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is not a blank slate. There are offences that can never be forgotten, because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that lends greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. In order to argue, Paul refers to Genesis and sees Adam as a type of behaviour because the creation account in Genesis is not an account of events, but the account of a vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not seen as an event of the past, but speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The creative act is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden that he might cultivate it and keep it" (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly. 

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and then you will be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient and educates his people with such patience. This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures.  And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, superior, and did not find his equal. But next we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says 'Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you'.... God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and you will be given (Lk 6:37-38). Are we perhaps back to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: to not fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken.

+Giovanni D'Ercole