1. "Paenitemini et date eleemosynam" (cf. Mk 1:15 and Lk 12:33).

Today we do not listen willingly to the word "alms". We feel something humiliating in it. This word seems to suppose a social system in which there reigns injustice, the unequal distribution of goods, a system which should be changed with adequate reforms. And if these reforms were not carried out, the need of radical changes, especially in the sphere of relations among men, would loom up on the horizon of social life. We find the same conviction in the texts of the Prophets of the Old Testament, on which the liturgy often draws during Lent. The Prophets consider this problem at the religious level: there is no true conversion to God, there can be no real "religion" without putting right offences and injustices in relations among men, in social life. Yet in this context the Prophets exhort to almsdeeds.

They do not even use the word "alms", which, moreover, in Hebrew is "sedaqah", that is, precisely "justice". They ask for help for those who are victims of injustice and for the needy: not so much by virtue of mercy as rather by virtue of the duty of active charity.

"Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, / to undo the thongs of the yoke, / to let the oppressed go free, / and to break every yoke? / Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, / and bring the homeless poor into your house; / when you see the naked, to cover him, / and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?" (Is 58:6-7).

The Greek word "eleemosyne" is found in the late books of the Bible and the practice of almsdeeds is a verification of an authentic religious spirit. Jesus makes almsdeeds a condition of access to his kingdom (cf. Lk 12:32-33) and of real perfection (Mk 10:21 and paral.). On the other hand, when Judas—in front of the woman who anointed the feet of Jesus—uttered the remark: `'Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?" (Jn 12:5), Christ defended the woman, answering: "The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me" (Jn 12:8). Both sentences offer food for deep thought.

2. What does the word "alms" mean?

The Greek word "eleemosyne" comes from "éleos", which means compassion and mercy. Originally it indicated the attitude of the merciful man and, later, all works of charity for the needy. This word, transformed, has remained in nearly all European languages.

In French: "aumône"; Spanish: limosna"; Portuguese: "esmola"; German: "Almosen"; English: "Alms".

Even the Polish expression "jalmuzna" is the transformation of the Greek word.

We must differentiate here the objective meaning of this word from the meaning we give it in our social conscience. As can be seen from what we have already said before, we often attribute, in our social conscience, a negative meaning to the word "alms". Various circumstances have contributed to this and continue to contribute to it today. On the contrary, "alms" in itself, as help for those who need it, as "letting others share in one's own goods absolutely does not give rise to such negative associations. We may not agree with the person who gives alms, because of the way in which he does it. We may also not be in agreement with the person who stretches out his hand asking for alms, in that he does not try to earn his own living. We may disapprove of the society, the social system, in which almsdeeds are necessary. However, the fact itself of giving help to those who need it, the fact of sharing one's own goods with others, must inspire respect.

We see how, in understanding verbal expressions, it is necessary to free oneself from the influence of various incidental circumstances: circumstances that are often improper, which affect their ordinary meaning. These circumstances, moreover, are sometimes positive in themselves (for example, in our case the aspiration to a just society, in which there would be no need of alms. because a just distribution of property would reign there.

When the Lord Jesus speaks of alms, when he asks for almsdeeds to be practised, he always does so in the sense of bringing help to those who need it, sharing one's own goods with the needy, that is, in the simple and essential sense, which does not permit us to doubt the value of the act denominated with the term "alms", but on the contrary, urges us to approve it: as a good act, as an expression of love for one's neighbour and as a salvific act.

Moreover, at a moment of particular importance, Christ utters these significant words: "The poor you always have with you" (Jn 12: 8). He does not mean by these words that changes of social and economic structures are not important and that we should not try different ways to eliminate injustice, humiliation, want and hunger. He means merely that man will have needs which cannot be satisfied unless with help for the needy and by sharing one's own goods with others... Of what help are we speaking? What sharing? Is it only a question of "alms", understood in the form of money, of material aid?

3. Certainly Christ does not remove alms from our field of vision. He thinks also of pecuniary, material alms, but in his own way. More eloquent than any other, in this connection, is the example of the poor widow, who put a few small coins into the treasury of the temple: from the material point of view, an offering that could hardly be compared with the offerings given by others. Yet Christ said: "This poor widow has put in... all the living that she had" (Lk 21:3-4). So it is, above all, the interior value of the gift that counts: the readiness to share everything, the readiness to give oneself.

Let us here recall St Paul: "If I give away all I have... but have not love, I gain nothing" (1 Cor 13:3). St Augustine, too, writes well in this connection: "if you stretch out your hand to give, but have not mercy in your heart, you have not done anything; but if you have mercy in your heart, even when you have nothing to give with your hand, God accepts your alms" (Enarrat. in Ps. CXXV, 5).

We are here touching the heart of the problem. In Holy Scripture and according to the evangelical categories, "alms" means in the first place an interior gift. It means the attitude of opening "to the other". Precisely this attitude is an indispensable factor of "metanoia", that is, conversion, just as prayer and fasting are also indispensable. St Augustine, in fact, expresses himself well: "how quickly the prayers of those who do good are granted! And this is man's justice in the present life: fasting, alms, prayer" (Enarrat. in Ps. XLII, 8): prayer, as an opening to God; fasting, as an expression of self-mastery also in depriving oneself of something, in saying "no" to oneself; and finally alms, as opening "towards others". The Gospel draws this picture clearly when it speaks to us of repentance, of "metanoia". Only with a total attitude—in his relationship with God, with himself and with his neighbour—does man reach conversion and remain in the state of conversion.

"Alms" understood in this way has a meaning which is in a certain sense decisive for this conversion. To convince ourselves of this, it is enough to recall the image of the Last Judgment that Christ gave us:

"For I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Then the righteous will answer him, `Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink? And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?' And the King will answer them: `Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me" (Mt 25:35-40).

And the Fathers of the Church will then say with St Peter Chrysologus: "The poor man's hand is the treasury of Christ, since Christ receives everything that the poor man receives" (Sermo VIII, 4), and with St Gregory of Nazianzus: "The Lord of all things wants mercy, not sacrifice; and we give it through the poor" (De patuperum amore, XI).

Therefore, this opening to others, which is expressed by "help", by "sharing" food, a glass of water, a good word, consolation, a visit, precious time, etc., this interior gift offered to the other man, arrives directly at Christ, directly at God. It decides the meeting with him. It is conversion.

We can find many texts in the Gospel that confirm this, and also in the whole of Scripture. "Alms" understood according to the Gospel, according to the teaching of Christ, has a definitive, decisive meaning in our conversion to God. If alms be lacking, our life does not yet converge fully towards God.

4. In the cycle of Lenten reflections, it will be necessary to come back to this subject. Today, before concluding, let us dwell for another moment on the real meaning of "alms". It is very easy, in fact, to falsify the idea, as we noted at the beginning. Jesus also gave a warning about the superficial, "exterior" attitude of almsdeeds (cf. Mt 6:4; Lk 11:41). This problem is still a living one. If we realize the essential significance that "alms" has for our conversion to God for the whole of Christian life, we must avoid, at all costs, all that falsifies the meaning of alms, mercy, works of charity, all that may distort their image in ourselves. In this field, it is very important to cultivate interior sensitivity as regards the real needs of our neighbour, in order to know in what we must help him, how to act in order not to wound him, and how to behave in order that what we give, what we bring to his life, may be a real gift, a gift not dimmed by the ordinary negative meaning of the word "alms".

.We see, therefore, what a field of work—wide and at the same time deep—opens before us, if we want to put into practice the call "Paenitemini et date eleemosynam" (cf. Mk 1:15 and Lk 12:33). It is a field of work not only for Lent, but for every day. For the whole of life.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 28 March 1979]

Pope Francis, this morning in his homily at Casa Santa Marta, said that one must "live life as a gift, not as a treasure to be kept". Jesus himself taught us this first, when he said that "no one has a greater love than this: to give one's life". The exact opposite, the pontiff stressed, of what Judas did, "who had precisely the opposite attitude", and in fact "never understood what a gift was".

"Let us think of that moment of the Magdalene," Pope Francis explained, "when she washes Jesus' feet with spikenard, so expensive: it is a religious moment, a moment of gratitude, a moment of love. And he detaches himself and makes the bitter criticism: 'But this could be used for the poor!' This is the first reference I found, in the Gospel, of poverty as ideology. The ideologue does not know what love is, because he does not know how to give himself".Judas' mistake was to be impermeable and distant from Christ's love: a loneliness that led him to betrayal. He who loves, on the other hand, 'gives his life as a gift, gives his life out of love, he is never alone: he is always in community, he is in the family'. Besides, the Pontiff warned, he who "isolates his conscience in selfishness" eventually "loses it".

[Pope Francis, homily s. Marta 14/05/2013: https://www.tempi.it/papa-francesco-vivete-la-vita-come-dono-satana-e-un-cattivo-pagatore-sempre-ci-truffa-sempre/]

(Mt  21:1-11; Mk 11:1-10; Lk 19:28-40; Jn 12:12-16)

In the Gospels the Lord doesn’t allow himself to be identified with the ‘eagle’ of Jn, although it’s He who comes from above - and ‘sees’ beyond the immediate.

He’s not a winged spiritual being [like the symbol of Mt] but fully incarnate, despite being the authentic Angel, that is, the Sent of the Father par excellence.

Jesus is not associated with the ‘lion’ [Mk], king of the forest and of beasts, although He’s the only successful and majestically royal man - the true and totally ‘present’ Person according to God.

Much less do we imagine him as an ‘ox’ [Lk], icon of the ancient traditionally sacrificial devotion.

On an evangelical basis, it’s not even possible to imagine the figure and proposal of the Master with the typical “bestiary” of homage and respect with which sovereigns and dignitaries, all the powerful and the elect even of the official religious caste, were idealised in the ancient East.

The Gospels do not recognise Jesus as a majestic ‘raptor’: they equate the stability, quality and action of his Spirit in the icon of the «dove».

Then with a figure that really makes the chickens laugh: the 'hen', who regrets the ruinous choices of her brood (Mt 23:37).

Instead of the power of the ‘lion’ [of Babylon or Judah tribe] here is the meekness of a Lamb that gives all of itself, including skin.

In place of ascetic renunciations, or of animals destined for the offertory necessary to appease the gods, a «man with a heart of flesh and not of a beast» with the ideal of Communion; life torn from the prehuman.

As if to say: it is a web of being (oneself, even small ones) and qualitative relationships, which supplants and sublimates the archaic sacrificial practices [sacrum-facere] with which in ancient times people sought contact and a reciprocal relationship with celestial Life.

Now it’s identified with human fullness.

Instead of the fiery arrogance of a steed that presses and becomes the protagonist of great enterprises, fully collaborating to make its leader illustrious, we see a symbol of tireless industriousness, dropped into everyone's common need: the ‘little donkey’!

That of the «donkey» is a thunderous proposal of a humble life, tailor-made for disciples still distracted, bamboozled by dreams of solemnity, prestige, worldly glory, and competitive lusts.

It means: within each one of us there is a «prophecy of unceasing service» that must be "untied".

It is as if there dwells within us an unexpressed spring being that can and wants to be «freed» from the many bonds of expectations of easy success, greatness, and consensus.

Previously indifferent or outraged hopes - for having gived credit to a resigned, humble Messiah.

Such is the level of Faith that it surpasses common religious sense.

That’s why the same people who cheer and acclaim acclaim, expecting triumphal celebration, sublime accolades and easy shortcuts - then queue up behind those who reject the Christ.

[Palm Sunday]

(Lk 22:14-23:56)

Jesus introduces into the world a total novelty, the principle of life: unconditional love.

The facts narrated in the Passion narratives are basically the same, but each author emphasises catechetical themes considered urgent for his community.

Although placed in a tension of ecclesial anticipation (Kingdom), it is evident from the tone of the Lk narration that the Supper had some character of continuation of the meals Jesus consumed with his own.

Here He already conveys the totality of Himself: 'This is I'. The only Way that unites him to the Father is his Person and his historical events, which condense the mystery of the covenant.

Other paths such as those traced out by the Covenants of Israel can no longer contain his proposal of Love and full Life.

Mt Mk Lk situate the institution of the Eucharist within the Jewish Passover supper. A theological reworking to affirm (in the Faith) the meaning of the authentic Passover of Liberation in Christ.

Compared to the first three, the fourth Gospel is more adherent to the sense of the Broken Bread as the source of Life for all.

Jn "anticipates" the Lord's death at the moment when the priests slaughtered the lambs destined for the Passover supper, on the Temple esplanade.

Thus the sacrifice of the Cross - contemporary with this last event - is rightly placed by Jn in the hours preceding the "Easter" supper of the Synoptics.

Indeed, the Lord's Supper we celebrate did not originate from the popular celebration of the Exodus (of the First Testament) in April of the year 30 (Jesus was 37 years old).

In fact, the Eucharist never had anything to do with the typical ingredients of the Jewish Passover table, such as spices or sauces, sweet and bitter herbs, different chalices of wine and so on.

The original meaning of the ritual gesture of the Master with his own - which introduces the Passion narrative - is the joyful one of Zebah-Todah (Lev 7:11ff: the only votive cult that could be celebrated outside the Temple of Jerusalem, at home, with friends and family).

Hence the double (common) term by which we still designate the efficacious sign that Christ left us: Communion (Zebah) and Eucharist (Thanksgiving: Todah).

Todah was a sacrifice of great praise, one of several specific kinds of the Communion sacrifice. We find several traces of it in the Eucharistic Prayer before.

The ceremonial action of Thanksgiving was intended in a very strong sense, as it celebrated Life found again, after a serious illness or an escape from death.

Much of the Psalms - perhaps more than a third - at various points express the same final joy (averted mortal threat, and the experience of finding oneself saved together with loved ones, by divine Gift).

The meaning of this hymn in daily life was in fact initially also for the Catholic Church (for almost the whole of the first millennium, like the Orthodox Church) celebrated with leavened bread (Lev 7:13), to indicate its domestic and real value.

It traces the proper tones of such ancient worship of thanksgiving in the hearth - unfortunately, difficult to translate in the sense of the proper formulas, perceptible only to a specially trained ear (or in the original Hebrew text).

The joyful and familiar atmosphere with which the rite of Communion and Thanksgiving was celebrated seems here to be undermined by the drama of infidelity. It is a strong call to vigilance for all of us.

Jesus offers himself to his own in the form of an inheritance and treasure. "Do this in remembrance of me": among the evangelists, only Luke reports such words.

The meaning does not concern liturgical repetition. The sign of the broken Bread is summarising - and an invitation to make our own his proposal of existence, marked by fidelity to himself, to his vocation, to the sick.

The Lord's gesture introduces us into a sense of personal freedom and service; into a form of community with reversed criteria.

Withholding is supplanted by giving, ascending becomes freedom to descend, commanding is replaced by dialogue and mutual help; the eagerness to appear vanishes.

Do those who rule even claim to be called 'Benefactors'? "Among you not so" (vv.25-26).

Those who have received the gift of fullness show aptitude for overcoming cravings for precedence and recognition.

Precisely during the Supper Lk inserts the discussion about which disciple was the greatest, because Christ considers it a central issue.

The evangelist places it at the moment of Jesus' testament: it is an inviolable request.

Where - despite great appearances - the desire to win and squabble persists, there is nothing of the open mystery dreamt of by Jesus.

The Church characterised by a fabric of oppositions, powers, interests, dominance of circles and constant fighting manifests nothing divine."Lord, with you I am ready to go even to prison, and to death" - obviously in pretense (as Peter's own denial shows) and in any case to win.

At the decisive moment, the 'leader' is not there, and if he is, he does a thousand pirouettes.

It is also true that the life of the Church and the meaning of the Passion are held on a mysterious plane, but people seek witnesses, not leaders.

Of course, community leaders who abandon are not themselves rejected and marginalised by the Lord, as long as sooner or later they get it into their heads to "feed His lambs" (Jn 21:16), that is, to feed them properly, with healthy food.

But the renegade can become the prototype of all leaders who know their limits.

One must understand weakness. Jesus does not emphasise the error of the disciple who betrays. The imputation deviates from every path. Those who do not feel welcome end up turning in on themselves.

So it is appropriate not to attack, and not only to remedy the troubles. Caring (v.51) helps one to grow and free from bondage.

Peter's gaze catches the inner (v.61: en-blepein) of the renegade disciple: behind the cowardly words and cowardly gestures Jesus sees the good - despite the fact that at times we may turn away.

The Gospel of Lk depends heavily on Mk, yet in the Passion narrative we notice more points of contact with the fourth Gospel.

Like Jn, in fact, Lk presents the Passion of love of Christ as a confrontation - already announced at the end of the temptations in the desert (4:13).

Agony is a term that appears only in the third Gospel, indicating the competition, the inner combat of the one who must be faithful to his own Calling.

The sweat of blood (v.44) expresses the trembling of one who concentrates on the inner struggle.

When things are taken seriously, the nights of true terror - which can also be our own - appear.

"As he entered into agony, he prayed more intensely" (v.44). Christ does not prepare himself by reciting formulas. He listens to the Father in order to grasp and make his plans his own.

If - overwhelmed - Jesus had fled, the authorities would have let him go.

The figure of the Angel (God who communicates himself to us) is the inner revelation that makes us understand the value of the choice to remain.

"At the right hand of the power of God" (v.69): the surprising aspect of the Christian paradox is precisely discovering in one's own experience the power of life that is re-actualised.

But the divine life of indestructible quality has a contrary species... totally unpredictable in its dynamics of principle... both in comparison to sententious condemnations and religious court judgments.

Unsurpassed is the narration of the encounter with Herod (23:6-11).

The tetrarch of Galilee was in Jerusalem on the occasion of the Passover, and since Pilate wanted to get rid of the problem he sent Jesus to his king.

The son of Herod the Great had long wanted to meet Jesus. His first reaction - Lk notes - was one of great joy, because he expected to meet a magician, a soothsayer, an expert in the occult arts. Perhaps in front of him the Nazarene would finally be convinced to perform some extraordinary gesture (one of those healings he had heard about).

The evangelist notes that Jesus did not dignify him with an answer.

On the contrary, the ruler "annihilated him" (23:11), that is, he considered him to be nothing....

He could have had no greater disappointment than to see no miracle performed.

The Message is clear: better not to look for Jesus as a miracle-worker: we will not receive an answer.

Here and there we may find what one normally looks for in religion, but the Lord does not lend Himself.

Christianity is the place of listening to the Word of life: a proposal to build according to God; not the marketplace of miracles carried out by opportunists.

That is why the Son is crucified among criminals. For the political and religious power, he was a far worse danger.

According to Luke only one reviled him; the other called Jesus by name and put his trust in him (v.42).

At the beginning of the Gospel the coming of the Lord is placed among the least of the earth.

From the very beginning he manifests himself to the world among unclean people and despised people [even those who were sure that they were to be done away with by the judge Messiah, and were therefore afraid of him] not among the righteous and holy of the Temple.

Then his whole life is spent among publicans and sinners, because he came for them.

For who does he bring back to the Father's house? Just anyone, who represents all of us - an evildoer who had committed murder - because all sins consist in taking away someone's life and joy of life.

So that murderer represents us. And Christ begins to build Family precisely with a criminal beside him, who is us: sinners recovered by his unconditional love.

The 'daughters of Jerusalem' weep because the people remain alone, caught between the violent dreams of Barabbas and the political realism of Rome. By accepting Christ's proposal, the holy city could break the chains of action and reaction, of offence-and-retaliation, of the spirit of vengeance that hangs over the world.

But on Golgotha the ultimate power of Grace - the foundation of life - is revealed over the old lines of the dead world:

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (23:34): the last words of Jesus, also reported only by Lk.

The disciple of Christ does not know the language of imprecation, of cursing, of those who invoke punishment.

Even in the most dramatic moments of injustice and harassment we are called to pronounce only love: yielding, the source of new energy and inexplicable recovery.

Platform of the Church's new existence.

(Mt 21:1-11; Mk 11:1-10; Lk 19:28-40; Jn 12:12-16)

At school, the boys always had difficulty distinguishing between two Sienese artists, Simone Martini and his master Duccio - less courtly and more disturbing - until the catechist pointed out a detail of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem on the Majesty of Siena; the first great polyptych in history.

Duccio di Buoninsegna had enriched the scene with paschal symbols such as the tree behind Christ's head that alludes to the vital gallows, as well as the light-coloured dome still towering above [an icon of the body of the Risen One as a 'rebuilt temple'].

But what gave one pause for thought was the stark contrast between the two doors on the right side of the panel - also on the same compositional axis - underlining the divergence of situations.

In the painting the great entrance to the city nobly overlooks a cheering crowd, while the small door in the lower foreground alludes to the entrance to the Garden of Gethsemane.

Lower gate and enclosure delimit a deserted terrain. Elements that wedge angularly and almost clumsily into the harmony of the beautiful (but paradoxical) composition.

There is a vivid contrast between the wide gateway crowded with a festive multitude, and the threshold with that space left unfulfilled; icons of the sense of abandonment, sadness and loneliness of those who enter and cross it.

A jarring depiction, when compared to the hymnody of the city's huddles - despite the fact that the entire sector of notables remains perplexed.

In short, the common idea of a messianic entry into the holy city made smooth and triumphant on the wave of the advantageous moment, is cracked and disturbed by incongruous details.

Spy-like ingredients that invite a kind of reflection still unfortunately absent from the popular imagination, nailed to more scenic and directly pleasing commonplaces than the Palm Festival.

An in-depth biblical study induced the parish community to scrutinise the novel themes that gradually arose from a careful reading of the texts.

Even the children realised: the natural atmosphere, the punctuated repetition that creates habit, and the setting up of worship, could play tricks on them, conveying meanings even in vain - some even opposed to the call of the Gospels.

Gradually one realised why after the proclamation of the Entrance and the festive procession peppered with Hosannas and pretty sprigs in hand - the Liturgy of the Word imposed the discordant moment of the proclamation of the Passio.

Even the opening Gospel of the Liturgy was reinterpreted by the priest in a way that stunned the lively assembled community.

The priest asked the unbelieving young people what were the favourite 'animals' from Holy Scripture to describe Jesus and his proposal.

A provocation then began, which made people reflect on quaint habits and certain catchphrases; as well as, ponder the stereotypes that were too agreeable and harmonious.

In short, even today, in the 'village' of ancient traditions, disciples need to recover and release the prophecy of his resigned Person. It is the only thing the Lord needs.

He comes to propose a different Face of God, not a violent ruler - and a different relationship of the people of the children who want to grow, than what was expected: power and tranquillity.

No worldly kingship, no wars to be waged - this is the meaning of the gesture of laying the cloak on the modest horse.

Thus, the authentic disciples agreed with the low profile of the Messiah of peace.

But the adherence is not shared. Most of the onlookers humble themselves by spreading their cloaks on the road [at that time a sign of subordination]: they prefer subjection to a glorious King.

And unfortunately, over the centuries not a few believers have put submission before love, risky management of their own freedom to be and do.

The cut branches? They allude to the Feast of Tabernacles, during which the Messiah should have appeared... imagined Great, avenger, proponent of easy prosperity at the expense of other peoples.

So Jesus finds himself constrained and as if taken hostage between two wings of the crowd: a group that directs, to show him the path of power - and one that presses him, as if not to let him escape, nor make him do his own thing.

Too dangerous.

Unfortunately, the misunderstanding has lasted to this day, and is still very tenacious to eradicate. The imagery of that particular Sunday confuses the sense of the festive setting.

We too are in danger of still mistaking the Son of Man, the image of the Father, for the Son of David - the skilful leader who a thousand years earlier had militarily reunited the tribes and given imperial lustre to the nation.

In the Gospels, the Lord does not allow himself to be identified with the eagle of John, although it is He who comes from above and sees beyond the immediate.He is not a winged spiritual being [symbolised by Mt] but fully incarnate, despite being the authentic Angel, i.e. the Father's Envoy par excellence.

Jesus is not associated with the lion [Mk], king of the forest and the beasts, although he is the only successful and majestically royal man - a true and totally 'present' Person according to God.

Still less do we place it alongside the ox [Lk] icon of ancient, traditionally sacrificial devotion.

On a Gospel basis, it is not even possible to imagine the figure and proposal of the Master with the typical bestiary of homage and respect with which sovereigns and dignitaries, all the powerful and the elect, even of the official religious caste, were idealised in the ancient East.

The Gospels do not recognise Jesus as a majestic bird of prey: they equate the stability, quality and action of His Spirit in the icon of the 'dove'.

Again, with a figure that really makes the chickens laugh: the 'hen', who laments the ruinous choices of her brood (Mt 23:37).

In place of the power of the lion [of Babylon or the tribe of Judah] behold: meekness of the Lamb who gives all of himself, including his skin.

Instead of ascetic renunciations, or animals destined for the offertory needed to appease the gods: a man with a heart of flesh and not of beast, with an ideal of communion. Life of coexistence, wrested from the prehuman.

As if to say: it is a web of being (oneself, even little ones) and of qualitative relationships, which supplants and sublimates the archaic sacrificial practices [sacrum-facere] with which in ancient times people sought contact and a relationship of reciprocity with the celestial life.

Now she is identified with human wholeness.

As an eloquent alternative to the fiery extravagance of a steed that presses forward and performs great deeds, fully collaborating to make its leader illustrious, here is the symbol of tireless industriousness, dropped into the common life of all: the 'donkey'!

This of the little donkey is a thunderous proposal of a resigned life, tailor-made for disciples still distracted, bamboozled in dreams of solemnity, prestige, worldly glory, competitive lusts [it seemed a truism of the heart].

It means: within each of us there is a prophecy of unceasing service that must be "untied".

It is as if there dwelled in the innermost being an unexpressed spring being that can and wants to be freed from the many bonds of expectations of easy success, greatness, and consensus.

Previously indifferent or disdainful hopes, for giving credit to a resigned Messiah.

Such is the level of Faith that it surpasses the common religious sense. 

It easily turns enthusiasm into sadness and adherence into abandonment, covering up the dark powers of our blocks.

That is why [and it is still contemporary history, of following and betrayal] the same people who acclaim, expecting triumphal celebration, sublime accolades and easy shortcuts - then fall in with the rejection of Christ. 

Drops of emotion, prayer and vital energy

The weeping over the eternal city, with tears of father, mother, son

(Lk 19:41-44)

We like to be in the wake of fashion or opportunism, but to reject the Lord's Call is a great responsibility.

One must recognise His Visitation, in Presence, in the inspiration that emerges.

And scrutinise the signs, seize the moments of grace instead of closing hostilely; do not turn your back.

All this changes life at the root - it leads to the heart of history.

Jesus wants to storm the closed gates of every citadel; first of all of the hardest bone: Jerusalem, the holy city.

The "eternal" territory is less capable of accepting the Lord's proposals - even those flaunted to others but lived out in their own right with aberrant behaviour here and there (forcing repeated appeals).

There, the extremists of ancient or super-modern gain remain all bent on guarding and covering interests, privileges, habits, comforts.

Situations that drag on the problems themselves - which gradually become chronic.

Not infrequently the astute leaders remain seated and closed in the defence of the world that sees only itself, in the perfect greed of every vain thing.

Forget the ferment of conversion, the engine of society, the seed of new life!

The result: the much flaunted Truth often remains hostage to the most blatant injustices, which cheerfully consume the worst betrayals in daily life.

Jesus, too, was aware of the same situation, which produced degradation and dehumanisation.

Sometimes, in fact, the search for the divine and human tension are rendered vain, due to an exclusive, snobbish or sectarian official world - that of the sacred - that seems to be under the sign of an entirely different divinity.

On the part of the leaders, the choice of an ideology of power feeds on illusions.

It leads to hard proselytism, but it leads the entire people - harassed, despised, marginalised - to disaster.

Blurring our gaze, this does not allow us to rid ourselves of the most insidious idols that disfigure existence and the mind.In this way, the dirigiste, superficial and violent point of view confuses and sidetracks the path to Shalôm.

It is impossible to realise the Visitation of God, in the perennial city of ancient religiosity or elitist, disembodied ideology.

Once, there were trenches, killings and destruction of walls and houses by Nebuchadnezzar, then the Roman one in 70 alluded to more directly in the text.

But the grim forecast extends, and perhaps the image of the pile of ruins concerns us. Historical background, ecclesial and pastoral meditation.

Not infrequently, the competent authority has unfortunately continued to condemn Jesus-peace as an evildoer to be expelled.

But in filigree, Christ today stands out in the position of King, reluctantly pronouncing a final sentence.

Perhaps he even does so on his intimates, when they indulge in compromise, ideal degradation, venal corruption (idol worship).

Where salvation is prepared, offered and re-proposed so intensely but in vain, the rejection becomes more painful - so for us and for this passionate, moving, almost heartbroken Son.

Yet the elect and exclusivist class still chooses to fall and ruin, thereby self-destructing their own people.

Receiving in return only the worldly fodder of a title to pin on.

And in the same 'spirit of permanence', rejecting the servant Messiah.

Even in time, it disregards the good work of its authentic witnesses.

Therefore, the City of cities - the great religious centre - will continue to lose its special character as a saving sign.

There will be a fulfilment nonetheless, but the anticipation is realised now.

So: are we with the Redeemer [resistance to oppression and prophetic activity without acquiescence] or with Jerusalem [deviations covered by docility, friendship of the ruler, notoriety, monetary rewards]?

Today too is the time of the Master's visit, who knocks and asks permission to enter, to open the seals of the great questions of history and life.

The warning is global, communal and personal; again with tears of father, mother and child.

An appeal that is still in the making - because of the current cultural tendency towards nothingness, surrender and the ephemeral.

The encyclical Fratelli Tutti denounces precisely the regress of an extravagant world that - with a shrunken sense of the here and now - seems to have learned little from the tragedies of the 20th century, to the point of rekindling anachronistic conflicts (nos.11.13).

The Father has reserved an alternative kingdom for the Church, and where it tries to occupy the place of others, it only ends up living off of gravure alms, and making its closest children stay.

It is better not to spoil love. Standing up for oneself is the mask of dwarfs, not the virtue of the strong - nor of family members.

But by also noticing the places of rupture, and recovering the social pace, it is with new evangelical acumen that we will be able to make the God-for-all truly operative and alive, rather than grieving over us.

This is best done from his People: from the soul of his Fraternities of silent lambs, engaged not in managing positions, but in the sine glossa craft of real life.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you think is hidden from your eyes, but previously announced - and crying bitterly?

With what orientation are you prepared to live in the handicraft of Peace, even family or social, putting aside enmities and the ephemeral [cf. Brothers All nos. 57. 100. 127. 176. 192. 197. 216-217. 225-236. 240-243. 254-262. 271-272. 278-285]?

Peace, in Truth

11. In the face of the dangers that humanity is experiencing in our times, it is the task of all Catholics to intensify, in every part of the world, the proclamation and witness of the 'Gospel of peace', proclaiming that the recognition of the full truth of God is a prior and indispensable condition for the consolidation of the truth of peace. God is Love that saves, a loving Father who desires to see his children recognise each other as brothers and sisters, responsibly striving to put their different talents at the service of the common good of the human family. God is the inexhaustible source of the hope that gives meaning to personal and collective life. God, God alone, makes every work of good and peace effective. History has amply demonstrated that waging war against God in order to eradicate him from human hearts leads a fearful and impoverished humanity towards choices that have no future. This must spur believers in Christ to become convincing witnesses to the God who is inseparably truth and love, placing themselves at the service of peace, in broad collaboration ecumenically and with other religions, as well as with all people of good will.

[Pope Benedict, Message for the XXXIX World Day of Peace, 2006].

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

This evening, in stillness and moved in heart, we have journeyed in prayer along the Way of the Cross. We have gone up Calvary with Jesus and we have meditated on his suffering, rediscovering how deep his love was and is for us. But let us not limit ourselves to a compassion dictated be weak sentiment; rather, we wish to participate in the sufferings of Jesus, we wish to accompany our Master, to share his Passion in our lives, in the life of the Church, for the life of the world, since we know that it is precisely in the Lord’s Cross, in love without limits, that he gives everything of himself, is the source of grace, of liberation, of peace, of salvation.

The texts, the meditations and the prayers of the Way of the Cross have helped us to consider the mystery of the Passion in order to appreciate the great lesson of love which God gave on the Cross, that there might be born in us a renewed desire to change our hearts, living each day that love which is the only force able to change the world.

This evening we have gazed upon Jesus and his countenance marked by pain, derided, outraged and disfigured by the sin of humanity; tomorrow night we will look upon the same countenance full of joy, radiant and luminous. From the moment Jesus goes into the tomb, the tomb and death are no longer a place without hope where history stops in the most complete failure, where man touches the extreme limit of his powerlessness. Good Friday is the greatest day of hope, come to fruition upon the Cross, as Jesus dies, as he draws his last breath, crying out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Lk 23:46). Entrusting his “given” existence into the Father’s hands, he knows that his death is becoming the source of life, just as the seed in the earth must be destroyed that a new plant may be born: “If a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (Jn 12:24). Jesus is the grain of wheat that falls to the earth, is split open, is destroyed and dies, and for this very reason is able to bear fruit. From the day on which Christ was raised upon it, the Cross, which had seemed to be a sign of desolation, of abandonment, and of failure, has become a new beginning: from the profundity of death is raised the promise of eternal life. The victorious splendour of the dawning day of Easter already shines upon the Cross.

In the silence of this night, in the silence which envelopes Holy Saturday, touched by the limitless love of God, we live in the hope of the dawn of the third day, the dawn of the victory of God’s love, the luminous daybreak which allows the eyes of our heart to see afresh our life, its difficulties, its suffering. Our failures, our disappointments, our bitterness, which seem to signal that all is lost, are instead illumined by hope. The act of love upon the Cross is confirmed by the Father and the dazzling light of the resurrection enfolds and transforms everything: friendship can be born from betrayal, pardon from denial, love from hate.

Grant us, Lord, to carry our cross with love, and to carry our daily crosses in the certainty that they have been enlightened by the dazzling light of Easter. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, Way of the Cross at the Colosseum 2 April 2010]

1. "Pueri Hebraeorum, portantes ramos olivarum.... The Jewish children went to meet the Lord waving olive branches".

This is the antiphon that we sing in the solemn procession as we carry our branches of olive and palm on this Sunday, called Palm or Passion Sunday. We have relived what took place on that day:  in the midst of the crowd rejoicing around Jesus who entered Jerusalem riding a donkey there were crowds of children. Some Pharisees would have wanted Jesus to have them keep quiet, but he answered that if they would have been silent, even the stones would have cried out (cf. Lk 19,39-40).

Even today, thanks be to God, there is a multitude of young people here in St Peter's Square. The "children of Jerusalem" have become young men and women of every nation, language and culture. Welcome, dear friends! I warmly greet each one of you! Today's gathering directs us toward the coming World Youth Day, that will take place in Toronto, Canada, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. The World Youth Day Cross is already there. Last year on Palm Sunday, Italian young people entrusted it to their Canadian peers.

2. The Cross is the focus of the liturgy today. Dear young people, with your attentive and enthusiastic participation in this solemn celebration, you show that you are not ashamed of the Cross. You do not fear the Cross of Christ. Indeed, you love and venerate it because it is the sign of the Redeemer who died and rose again for us. Those who believe in Jesus, crucified and risen, carry the Cross in triumph as an indisputable proof that God is love. With the total gift of himself on the Cross, our Saviour decisively conquered sin and death. Therefore we joyfully proclaim:  "Glory and praise to you, O Christ who has redeemed the world with your Cross".

3. "Christ became obedient for us even to death, death on the Cross. Therefore God raised him on high and gave him a name above every other name" (Gospel acclamation).
We have used these words of the Apostle Paul, just heard in the Second Reading, as our acclamation before we begin the reading of the Passion. They express our faith:  the faith of the Church.

However, faith in Christ can never be taken for granted. The reading of his Passion sets us before Christ, living in his Church. The Easter Mystery that we will relive during the days of Holy Week is always present. Today we are contemporaries of the Lord and, like the multitude in Jerusalem, like the disciples and the women, we are called to decide if we are to be with him, or flee, or just be spectators at his death.

Every year in Holy Week the curtain rises once again on the great scene in which the definitive drama is decided, not only for one generation, but for all humanity and for each one.

4. The Passion narrative points out the fidelity of Christ, contrasted with human infidelity. In the hour of his trial, while the disciples and even Peter abandon Jesus (cf. Mt 26,56), He remains faithful, willing to pour out his blood to bring to fulfilment the mission the Father has entrusted to him. Beside him is Mary, silent and suffering.

Dear young people! Learn from Jesus and from his and our Mother. The real strength of a man lies in the fidelity of his witness to the truth and in his resisting flattery, threats, misunderstandings, blackmail, even harsh and relentless persecution. This is the path on which our Redeemer calls us to follow him.

Only if you are ready to do this, will you become what Jesus expects of you, that is, "the salt of the earth" and "the light of the world" (Mt 5,13-14). As you know, this is the theme for the coming World Youth Day. The image of salt "reminds us that, through Baptism, our whole being has been profoundly changed, because it has been "seasoned' with the new life which comes from Christ (cf. Rom 6,4)" (Message for the 17th World Youth Day, n. 2).

Dear young people, do not lose your flavour as Christians, the flavour of the Gospel! Keep it alive by meditating constantly on the Easter Mystery:  may the Cross be your school of wisdom. Boast of nothing else save this sublime throne of truth and love.

5. The liturgy invites us to climb towards Jerusalem with Jesus, hailed by the young Jews. In a little while he "will have to suffer and on the third day rise from the dead" (Lk 24,46). St Paul has reminded us that Jesus "emptied himself, taking the form of a servant" (Phil 2,7) to obtain for us the grace of divine sonship. From him springs the true spring of peace and joy for each one of us! Here is the secret of the Easter joy that is born from the hardship of the Passion.

I hope that each one of you will share in this joy, dear young friends. The One you have chosen as Teacher is not a merchant of deceptions, not a powerful one of this world, not a ready and skilled debater. You know who it is you have chosen to follow: the Crucified is risen! The Crucified is risen! Christ died for you, Christ rose for you.

The Church assures you that you will not be disillusioned. Indeed, no one else other than he can give you that love, peace, and eternal life for which your heart so deeply yearns. Blessed are you young people if you will be faithful disciples of Christ! Blessed are you who are ready to witness on every occasion that this man is truly the Son of God (cf. Mt 27,39).

May Mary, Mother of the incarnate Word guide and go with you, ready to intercede for everyone who comes into the world.

[Pope John Paul II, Palm Sunday homily 24 March 2002]

Joyful acclamations at Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem, followed by his humiliation. Festive cries followed by brutal torture. This twofold mystery accompanies our entrance into Holy Week each year, as reflected in the two characteristic moments of today’s celebration: the initial procession with palm branches and the solemn reading of the Passion.

Let us enter into this movement, guided by the Holy Spirit, and thus obtain the grace we sought in our opening prayer: to follow in faith our Saviour’s example of humility, to heed his lesson of patient suffering, and thus to merit a share in his victory over the spirit of evil.

Jesus shows us how to face moments of difficulty and the most insidious of temptations by preserving in our hearts a peace that is neither detachment nor superhuman impassivity, but confident abandonment to the Father and to his saving will, which bestows life and mercy. He shows us this kind of abandonment by spurning, at every point in his earthly ministry, the temptation to do things his way and not in complete obedience to the Father. From the experience of his forty days in the desert to the culmination of his Passion, Jesus rejects this temptation by his obedient trust in the Father.

Today, too, by his entrance into Jerusalem, he shows us the way. For in that event, the evil one, the prince of this world, had a card up his sleeve: the card of triumphalism. Yet the Lord responded by holding fast to his own way, the way of humility.

Triumphalism tries to make it to the goal by shortcuts and false compromises. It wants to jump onto the carriage of the winner. It lives off gestures and words that are not forged in the crucible of the cross; it grows by looking askance at others and constantly judging them inferior, wanting, failures... One subtle form of triumphalism is spiritual worldliness, which represents the greatest danger, the most treacherous temptation threatening the Church (De Lubac). Jesus destroyed triumphalism by his Passion.

The Lord truly rejoiced with the people, with those young people who shouted out his name and acclaimed him as King and Messiah. His heart was gladdened to see the enthusiasm and excitement of the poor of Israel. So much so, that, to those Pharisees who asked him to rebuke his disciples for their scandalous acclamations, he replied: “If these were silent, the very stones would cry out” (Lk 19:40). Humility does not mean denying reality: Jesus really is the Messiah, the King.

Yet at the same time the heart of Jesus was moving on another track, on the sacred path known to him and the Father alone: the path that leads from “the form of God” to “the form of a servant”, the path of self-abasement born of obedience “unto death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:6-8). He knows that true triumph involves making room for God and that the only way to do that is by stripping oneself, by self-emptying. To remain silent, to pray, to accept humiliation. There is no negotiating with the cross: one either embraces it or rejects it. By his self-abasement, Jesus wanted to open up to us the path of faith and to precede us on that path.

The first to follow him on that path was his mother, Mary, the first disciple. The Blessed Virgin and the saints had to suffer in walking the path of faith and obedience to God’s will. Responding with faith to the harsh and painful events of life entails “a particular heaviness of heart (cf. Redemptoris Mater, 17). The night of faith. Yet only from that night do we see the dawn of the resurrection break forth. At the foot of the cross, Mary thought once more of the words that the angel had spoken about her Son: “He will be great… The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Lk 1:32-33). On Golgotha, Mary faced the complete denial of that promise: her Son was dying on a cross like a criminal. In this way, triumphalism, destroyed by the abasement of Jesus, was likewise destroyed in the heart of his Mother. Both kept silent.

In the footsteps of Mary, countless holy men and women have followed Jesus on the path of humility and obedience. Today, World Youth Day, I would like to mention all those young saints, especially the saints “next door” to us, known only to God; sometimes he likes to surprise us with them. Dear young people, do not be ashamed to show your enthusiasm for Jesus, to shout out that he is alive and that he is your life. Yet at the same time, do not be afraid to follow him on the way of the cross. When you hear that he is asking you to renounce yourselves, to let yourselves be stripped of every security, and to entrust yourselves completely to our Father in heaven, then rejoice and exult! You are on the path of the kingdom of God.

Festive acclamations and brutal torture; the silence of Jesus throughout his Passion is profoundly impressive. He also overcomes the temptation to answer back, to act like a “superstar”. In moments of darkness and great tribulation, we need to keep silent, to find the courage not to speak, as long as our silence is meek and not full of anger. The meekness of silence will make us appear even weaker, more humble. Then the devil will take courage and come out into the open. We need to resist him in silence, “holding our position”, but with the same attitude as Jesus. He knows that the battle is between God and the prince of this world, and that what is important is not putting our hand to the sword but remaining firm in faith. It is God’s hour. At the hour that God comes forth to fight, we have to let him take over. Our place of safety will be beneath the mantle of the holy Mother of God. As we wait for the Lord to come and calm the storm (cf. Mt 4:37-41), by our silent witness in prayer we give ourselves and others “an accounting for the hope that is within [us]” (1 Pet 3:15). This will help us to live in the sacred tension between the memory of the promises made, the suffering present in the cross, and the hope of the resurrection.

[Pope Francis, Palm Sunday homily, XXXIV WYD 14 April 2019]

(Jn 11:45-56)

Christ is all that the Jewish feasts had promised and proclaimed.

They deciphered authoritatively, but unconsciously [vv.47-52 take pleasure in double entendre words].

In fact, the high priest spoke in the name of God: he interpreted the situation in a divinely inspired way.

In Christ the people was setting out to fulfill the promise made to Abraham: the era of the dispersion of women and men was ending.

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

But what could were being the starting point (energetic) also for Jesus, not to withdraw into the limits of his own environment down to the details, and activate a path of rebirth?

The community of Bethany [«house of the poor»] is an image of the first realities of Faith, destitute and composed only of brothers and sisters.

Person-friendly. Where people “looked” at each other, and those bonds that prevented them from going beyond the already known could be dissolved.

Nest of healthy relationships, which was also able to make sense of wounds.

«House of the poor» is the only place where Jesus was at ease, that is, the only reality in which we can still recognize Him alive and present ‘in the midst’ - available, equidistant. Source of life for the modest and needy.

In the passage from the Gospel, the comparison with the vulgar cunning of the authorities and the out-of-scale dimension of the places and festivals is strident.

As if there no sap flowed between the Holiness of God and the real life of the discharged people.

Although the Master did good - as in all regimes, there was no shortage of delators (v.46).

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

Top ones in the class could never have been persuaded to follow a stranger who intended to supplant the official institution and privileged positions, with an unadorned utopia.

The throne of the princes of the fraternal House was conversely without ‘cushions’, and the community co-ordinator a woman: Martha [«lady»]. Leader in reverse, servant.

In such guise, Bethany gave hints of new life, because of its very composition, and ‘intimate spirit’.

Hearth free of standards and roles of primacy.

Reality devoid of struggles, defences, positions, vested interests: all tensions to 'fix' things which still mark us downwards, towards sloppiness.

Under Domitian these small alternative realities - caring for the small and distant - had to live like Jesus: clandestine.

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

[Saturday 5th wk. in Lent, April 12, 2025]

"I have other sheep that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd" (Jn 10: 16).

John repeated the same thing after the Sanhedrin had decided to kill Jesus, when Caiaphas said that it would be better for the people that one man die for them rather than the entire nation perish. John recognized these words of Caiaphas as prophetic, adding:  "Jesus should die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad" (11: 52).

The relationship between the Cross and unity is revealed:  the Cross is the price of unity. Above all, however, it is the universal horizon of Jesus' action that emerges.

If, in his prophecy about the shepherd, Ezekiel was aiming to restore unity among the dispersed tribes of Israel (cf. Ez 34: 22-24), here it is a question not only of the unification of a dispersed Israel but of the unification of all the children of God, of humanity - of the Church of Jews and of pagans.

Jesus' mission concerns all humanity. Therefore, the Church is given responsibility for all humanity, so that it may recognize God, the God who for all of us was made man in Jesus Christ, suffered, died and was raised.

The Church must never be satisfied with the ranks of those whom she has reached at a certain point or say that others are fine as they are:  Muslims, Hindus and so forth. The Church can never retreat comfortably to within the limits of her own environment. She is charged with universal solicitude; she must be concerned with and for one and all.

[Pope Benedict, homily 7 May 2006]