Whole-heartedly. I emphasise, here, the adjective 'whole'. Totalitarianism in politics is bad. In religion, on the other hand, our totalitarianism in the face of God is perfectly fine. It is written: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. These precepts which I give thee today, let them be fixed in thy heart; thou shalt repeat them to thy children, thou shalt speak of them when thou sittest in thy house, when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. You shall bind them to your hand as a sign, they shall be like a pendant between your eyes, and you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your doors". That "all" repeated and bent into practice with such insistence is truly the banner of Christian maximalism. And it is right: God is too great, too much He deserves from us, for us to throw to Him, as to a poor Lazarus, just a few crumbs of our time and heart. He is infinite good and will be our eternal happiness: the money, the pleasures, the fortunes of this world, in comparison with Him, are barely fragments of good and fleeting moments of happiness. It would be unwise to give so much of us to these things and so little of us to Jesus. Above all things. Now we come to a direct comparison between God and man, between God and the world. It would not be right to say: "Either God or man". One must love "and God and man"; the latter, however, never more than God or against God or equal to God. In other words: God's love is indeed prevalent, but not exclusive. The Bible declares Jacob holy and beloved of God, shows him working seven years to win Rachel as his wife; "and they seemed to him but a few days, those years, so great was his love for her". Francis de Sales comments on these words: "Jacob," he writes, "loves Rachel with all his strength, and with all his strength he loves God; but he does not love Rachel as God nor God as Rachel. He loves God as his God above all things and more than himself; he loves Rachel as his wife above all other women and as himself. He loves God with absolutely and sovereignly supreme love, and Rachel with supreme marital love; the one love is not contrary to the other, because Rachel's love does not violate the supreme advantages of the love of God". And for your sake I love my neighbour. Here we are faced with two loves that are "twin brothers" and inseparable. Some people it is easy to love; others, it is difficult; we do not like them, they have offended us and done us harm; only if I love God seriously, do I come to love them, as daughters of God and because he asks me to. Jesus also laid down how to love one's neighbour: not only with feeling, but with deeds. This is the way, he said. I will ask you: I was hungry in the person of my least brothers, did you give me food? Did you visit me when I was sick?

The Catechism translates these and other words from the Bible into the double list of the seven corporal and seven spiritual works of mercy. The list is not complete and should be updated. Among the hungry, for example, today, it is no longer just about this or that individual; there are whole peoples.

We all remember the great words of Pope Paul VI: 'The peoples of hunger today dramatically challenge the peoples of affluence. The Church trembles before this cry of anguish and calls each one to respond with love to his brother'. At this point charity is joined by justice, because - Paul VI goes on to say - "private property does not constitute for anyone an unconditional and absolute right. No one is authorised to reserve for his own exclusive use what exceeds his need, when others lack the necessary". Consequently, 'every exhausting arms race becomes an intolerable scandal'.

In the light of these strong expressions, we see how far we - individuals and peoples - are still from loving others 'as ourselves', which is Jesus' command.

Another command: forgive offences received. It seems as if the Lord gives this forgiveness precedence over worship: "If therefore you present your offering on the altar and there you remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go first to be reconciled with your brother and then return to offer your gift".

The last words of the prayer are: Lord, may I love you more and more. Here too there is obedience to a command from God, who has put the thirst for progress in our hearts. From stilts, caves and the first huts, we have moved on to houses, palaces, skyscrapers; from travelling on foot, on the back of a mule or camel, to carriages, trains, planes. And we still want to progress by ever faster means, reaching ever more distant destinations. But loving God - we have seen it - is also a journey: God wants it more and more intense and perfect. He said to all his own: 'You are the light of the world, the salt of the earth'; 'be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect'. This means: love God not a little, but a lot; do not stop at the point where you have arrived, but with His help, progress in love.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 27 September 1978]

I should like to pause with you today on the parable of the rich man and the poor Lazarus. The lives of these two people seem to run on parallel tracks: their life status is opposite and not at all connected. The gate of the rich man’s house is always closed to the poor man, who lies outside it, seeking to eat the leftovers from the rich man’s table. The rich man is dressed in fine clothes, while Lazarus is covered with sores; the rich man feasts sumptuously every day, while Lazarus starves. Only the dogs take care of him, and they come to lick his wounds. This scene recalls the harsh reprimand of the Son of Man at the Last Judgement: “I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was [...] naked and you did not clothe me” (Mt 25:42-43). Lazarus is a good example of the silent cry of the poor throughout the ages and the contradictions of a world in which immense wealth and resources are in the hands of the few.

Jesus says that one day that rich man died: the poor and the rich die, they have the same destiny, like all of us, there are no exceptions to this. Thus, that man turned to Abraham, imploring him in the name of ‘father’ (vv. 24, 27). Thereby claiming to be his son, belonging to the People of God. Yet in life he showed no consideration toward God. Instead he made himself the centre of all things, closed inside his world of luxury and wastefulness. In excluding Lazarus, he did not take into consideration the Lord nor his law. To ignore a poor man is to scorn God! We must learn this well: to ignore the poor is to scorn God. There is a detail in the parable that is worth noting: the rich man has no name, but only an adjective: ‘the rich man’; while the name of the poor man is repeated five times, and ‘Lazarus’ means ‘God helps’. Lazarus, who is lying at the gate, is a living reminder to the rich man to remember God, but the rich man does not receive that reminder. Hence, he will be condemned not because of his wealth, but for being incapable of feeling compassion for Lazarus and for not coming to his aid.

In the second part of the parable, we again meet Lazarus and the rich man after their death (vv. 22-31). In the hereafter the situation is reversed: the poor Lazarus is carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom in heaven, while the rich man is thrown into torment. Thus the rich man “lifted up his eyes, and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus in his bosom”. He seems to see Lazarus for the first time, but his words betray him: “Father Abraham”, he calls, “have mercy upon me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in anguish in this flame”. Now the rich man recognizes Lazarus and asks for his help, while in life he pretended not to see him. How often do many people pretend not to see the poor! To them the poor do not exist. Before he denied him even the leftovers from his table, and now he would like him to bring him a drink! He still believes he can assert rights through his previous social status. Declaring it impossible to grant his request, Abraham personally offers the key to the whole story: he explains that good things and evil things have been distributed so as to compensate for earthly injustices, and the door that in life separated the rich from the poor is transformed into “a great chasm”. As long as Lazarus was outside his house, the rich man had the opportunity for salvation, to thrust open the door, to help Lazarus, but now that they are both dead, the situation has become irreparable. God is never called upon directly, but the parable clearly warns: God’s mercy toward us is linked to our mercy toward our neighbour; when this is lacking, also that of not finding room in our closed heart, He cannot enter. If I do not thrust open the door of my heart to the poor, that door remains closed. Even to God. This is terrible.

At this point, the rich man thinks about his brothers, who risk suffering the same fate, and he asks that Lazarus return to the world in order to warn them. But Abraham replies: “They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them”. In order to convert, we must not wait for prodigious events, but open our heart to the Word of God, which calls us to love God and neighbour. The Word of God may revive a withered heart and cure it of its blindness. The rich man knew the Word of God, but did not let it enter his heart, he did not listen to it, and thus was incapable of opening his eyes and of having compassion for the poor man. No messenger and no message can take the place of the poor whom we meet on the journey, because in them Jesus himself comes to meet us: “as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40), Jesus says. Thus hidden in the reversal of fate that the parable describes lies the mystery of our salvation, in which Christ links poverty with mercy.

Dear brothers and sisters, listening to this Gospel passage, all of us, together with the poor of the earth, can sing with Mary: “He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away” (Lk 1:52-53).

[Pope Francis, General Audience 18 May 2016]

(Mt 1:16.18-21.24)

«Even through Joseph’s fears, God’s will, his history and his plan were at work. Joseph, then, teaches us that faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to be in complete control, yet God always sees the bigger picture» [Patris Corde n.2].

Incarnation: the Father places himself alongside his sons and daughters. Not only He isn’t afraid of becoming impure in contact with things that concern human dynamics: in their Condition even recognizes Himself.

For this reason, the culmination of the entire Salvation Story springs from Joseph's embarrassment.

Sources attest that he was not at all a character with a lily in his hand, but perhaps this may interest us up to a certain point.

The narration of Mt is striking, because the distinction and the possibility of the irruption (of the summit itself) of God's plan on humanity seem to arise not from a certainty, but from a Doubt.

The question mark involves. Discomfort sows a new Germ inside. It tears and cuts down all the alike seedlings of the grass infesting the full Life - which was the chiseled Law on appearances.

The "problem" leads to dreaming of other horizons to open, and in the first person. Hesitation leads out of the mental cages that mortify relationships, previously reduced to casuistry.

The perplexity makes common opinion overlook, because conformity attenuates and extinguishes the Novelty of God.

Hesitation seeks existential fissures: it wants to introduce us into territories of life - where others can also draw on different experiences, varied perceptions, and moments in which to have decisive insights as a gift.

Its wise Energy finds gaps and small passages; it acts to make us evolve as children of Eternity - also arousing inconvenience, which flood existence of creative suspensions and new passion.

Its lucid Action is introduced through Dreams that shake off the usual projects, or states of mind that put them in the balance; and bottlenecks of marginalized thinking that makes us rediscover the reason we were born, discover our part in the world.

Every swing, every pain, every danger, every move, can become a ‘birth’ towards Originality - without identifications first.

Uniqueness doesn’t make us lose the Source that ‘watches’ in us. Woe to shirk: we would lose our destination.

The Spirit that slips into the crevices of standard mindsets finds an intimate spot that allows us to flourish differently now, able to bring out the essence of who we authentically are, and stop copying clichés.

Then we won't keep asking: Whose fault is it? How should we buffer the situation? Who should we lean on?. But rather: What is the new ‘life’ I have to explore? What is yet to be discovered?.

In fact, the bite of doubts does not make one become believer-garbage, as hypothesized in disciplined, legalistic religions - in puritan philosophies with artificial wisdom - vice versa friends, adopted sons [ie chosen] and heirs.

Thanks to the Relation of Faith, we are no longer lost in the desert - because the many things and the hazards become dialogue of specific weight: we are at Home, respecting our mysterious character and Call.

We begin like Joseph to be present to ourselves. And by changing gaze, we will enjoy the Beauty of the New.

«Saint Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in the history of salvation. A word of recognition and of gratitude is due to them all» [Patris Corde intr.].

To internalize and live the message:

On what occasion did ‘doubt’ open horizons to astound you? In the beautiful and colorful moments of life, did you start from your certainty?

 [St. Joseph, March 19]

Contact with the earth: deviance and ascent

Casual Incarnation, in tenuousness and density

(Mt 1:1-17)

In the ancient East, genealogies mentioned only men, and it is surprising that Mt mentions the names of no less than five women - considered merely servile, untrustworthy creatures, impure by nature.

But in the story of Mary's four companions there is not a little that is a-normal [also because of the model of life chosen] that is nevertheless worthwhile.

Here we are then challenged by the Gospel on the weight to be given to the rigidity of norms, which in the history of spirituality have often devoured the spontaneous being of those called by the Father (simply to express themselves).

Cultures animated by the Wisdom of Nature also testify to this weight.

The Tao Tê Ching (LVII) writes: "When the world is governed by correction, weapons are used with falsehood [...] That is why the saint says: I do not act and the people transform themselves [...] I do not yearn and the people make themselves simple".

In order to reach the human fullness of the Son, God did not pretend to overcome concrete events, on the contrary He assumed them and valorised them.

The path that leads to Christ is not a matter of climbs, nor of results or performances to be calibrated more and more in a linear crescendo that is therefore moralising and dirigiste (which does not impose turning points that count, nor does it solve the real problems).

Commenting on the Tao(i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: "Mystery is Heaven. He says that both the man who has desires and the man who has none equally receive ch'ì from Heaven. Within heaven there is another heaven; in the ch'ì there is density and tenuity".

In history, the Eternal One manages to give unfurled wings not so much to strength and genius, but to all the poor beginnings, to the paucity of our nature, which suddenly turns into totally unpredictable wealth.

And if we tear the thread again and again, the Lord knits it back together - not to fix it, patch it up and resume as before, but to make a whole new weave. Precisely from the falls.

It is those moments of the earth-to-earth divide that force humanity to change symbolic direction and not repeat itself, stagnating in the circuit of the usual cerebral and purist perimeters - habitual, and where everything is normal.

As a result of inner crashes and afterthoughts, how many people have fulfilled their destiny by deviating from the marked, quiet, protected and comfortable path (Cottolengo, Mother Teresa, etc.)!

Out of the mire of the swamp sprout beautiful, clean flowers, which do not even resemble those we had ever imagined we could contemplate at various stages of life.

The tumbles of the protagonists of salvation history did not come from weakness. They were signs of bad or partial use of resources; stimuli to change one's eye, re-evaluate one's point of view and many hopes.

Those collapses configured new challenges: they were interpreted as strong provocations: to shift energies and change track.

The upturns following the downturns turned into new opportunities, not at all unexpected, fully discordant with the ready-made solutions that extinguish characters.

Even our crisis only becomes serious when the failures do not result in new insights and different paths that we had not thought of (perhaps in any of our good intentions).

Strange this link between our abysses and the heights of the Spirit: it is the Incarnation, no theory - all reality.

There is no Gift that resembles the divine top and comes to us without passing through and involving the dimension of finitude.

The holes in the water convey the all-too-human figure of what we are - behind illusions or the very appearances we do not want to put down, to convince ourselves that we are instead identified 'characters'.

But the ambivalences and flaws continue to want to unhinge our gaze and destiny elsewhere, with respect to common expectations [today also the paroxysm of the point in the polls].

Behind the mask and beyond the convictions acquired from environment, manners or procedures... lies the Father's great Secret about us.

It is precisely the descents that spiritualise, through a working of the soul that is rammed by events, so that it turns to acquire new awareness, internalises different evaluations, sees and embraces other varied horizons, even missionary ones.

The crack that knocks down can be more consistent than any progress; not because it initiates asceticism: it becomes contact with the 'earth' - where we find the sap that really corresponds to us, to regenerate.

The fall or even the ruin of a reassuring status has in every happening a propulsive, regenerative, transmutative function; normal, after all, and in which God's story is totally recognised.

To internalise and live the message:

What were your turning points?

What turning point realised you? 

Not only through men, but with them

With today's liturgy, we enter the final stretch of the Advent journey, which calls us to intensify our preparation, to celebrate the Lord's Christmas with faith and joy, welcoming with intimate amazement God who makes himself close to man, to each one of us.

The first reading presents us with the elderly Jacob who gathers his sons for the blessing: it is an event of great intensity and emotion. This blessing is like a seal of fidelity to the covenant with God, but it is also a prophetic vision, looking forward and indicating a mission. Jacob is the father who, through the not always straightforward paths of his own history, comes to the joy of gathering his children around him and plotting the future of each one and their descendants. In particular, today we have heard the reference to the tribe of Judah, whose royal strength is exalted, represented by the lion, as well as to the monarchy of David, represented by the sceptre, the staff of command, which alludes to the coming of the Messiah. Thus, in this dual image, the future mystery of the lion who becomes a lamb, of the king whose staff of command is the cross, the sign of true kingship, transpires. Jacob has gradually become aware of the primacy of God, has understood that his path is guided and sustained by the Lord's faithfulness, and cannot but respond with full adherence to God's covenant and plan of salvation, becoming in turn, together with his own descendants, a link in the divine plan.

The passage in Matthew's Gospel presents us with the "genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham" (Mt 1:1), further emphasising and explicating God's faithfulness to the promise, which He fulfils not only through men, but with them and, as with Jacob, sometimes through tortuous and unforeseen ways. The awaited Messiah, the object of the promise, is true God, but also true man; Son of God, but also Son born of the Virgin, Mary of Nazareth, holy flesh of Abraham, in whose seed all the peoples of the earth shall be blessed (cf. Gen 22:18). In this genealogy, besides Mary, four women are mentioned. They are not Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, i.e. the great figures of Israel's history. Paradoxically, instead, it is four pagan women: Racab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Tamar, who apparently 'disturb' the purity of a genealogy. But in these pagan women, who appear at decisive points in salvation history, the mystery of the church of the pagans, the universality of salvation, shines through. They are pagan women in whom the future, the universality of salvation, appears. They are also sinful women, and so the mystery of grace also appears in them: it is not our works that redeem the world, but it is the Lord who gives us true life. They are sinful women, yes, in whom appears the greatness of the grace that we all need. Yet these women reveal an exemplary response to God's faithfulness, showing faith in the God of Israel. And so we see the church of the Gentiles, a mystery of grace, faith as a gift and a path to communion with God. Matthew's genealogy, therefore, is not simply the list of generations: it is the history realised primarily by God, but with the response of humanity. It is a genealogy of grace and faith: it is precisely on the absolute faithfulness of God and the solid faith of these women that the continuation of the promise made to Israel rests.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Aletti Centre, 17 December 2009].

Man, God's surname

Man is God's surname: the Lord in fact takes the name from each of us - whether we are saints or sinners - to make it his own surname. For in becoming incarnate, the Lord made history with humanity: his joy was to share his life with us, 'and this makes one weep: so much love, so much tenderness'.

It was with thoughts turned to the now imminent Christmas that Pope Francis commented on Tuesday 17 December on the two readings proposed by the liturgy of the word, taken respectively from Genesis (49:2, 8-10) and the Gospel of Matthew (1:1-17). On the day of his 77th birthday, the Holy Father presided over morning Mass as usual in the chapel of Santa Marta. Concelebrating among others was Cardinal Dean Angelo Sodano, who expressed the best wishes of the entire College of Cardinals to him.

In his homily, which focused on God's presence in the history of humanity, the Bishop of Rome identified two terms - inheritance and genealogy - as the keys to interpreting the first reading (concerning the prophecy of Jacob gathering his sons and predicting a glorious descent for Judah) and the Gospel passage containing the genealogy of Jesus. Dwelling in particular on the latter, he emphasised that it is not 'a telephone directory', but 'an important subject: it is pure history', because 'God sent his son' among men. And, he added, "Jesus is consubstantial with his father, God; but he is also consubstantial with his mother, a woman. And this is that consubstantiality of the mother: God made himself history, God wanted to make himself history. He is with us. He has made a journey with us'.

A journey,' continued the bishop of Rome, 'that began from afar, in Paradise, immediately after original sin. From that moment, in fact, the Lord 'had this idea: to make a journey with us'. Therefore, "he called Abraham, the first one named in this list, and invited him to walk. And Abraham began that journey: he begat Isaac, and Isaac Jacob, and Jacob Judah". And so on through human history. 'God walks with his people', therefore, because 'he did not want to come to save us without history; he wanted to make history with us'.

A history, said the Pontiff, made of holiness and sin, because in the list of Jesus' genealogy there are saints and sinners. Among the former the Pope recalled "our father Abraham" and "David, who after sin converted". Among the latter, he singled out "high-level sinners, who did big sins", but with whom God equally "made history". Sinners who failed to respond to the plan God had imagined for them: like 'Solomon, so great and intelligent, who ended up as a poor man who did not even know his name'. Yet, Pope Francis noted, God was also with him. "And this is the beauty of it: God makes history with us. Moreover, when God wants to say who he is, he says: I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob".

That is why to the question "what is God's surname?" for Pope Francis it is possible to answer: "It is us, each one of us. He takes the name from us to make it his surname". And in the example offered by the Pontiff there are not only the fathers of our faith, but also ordinary people. "I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of Pedro, of Marietta, of Armony, of Marisa, of Simon, of everyone. He takes the surname from us. God's surname is each one of us,' he explained.

Hence the realisation that by taking 'the surname from our name, God has made history with us'; indeed, more than that: 'he has allowed himself to write history with us'. And we still continue to write 'this history', which is made 'of grace and sin', while the Lord does not tire of coming after us: 'this is God's humility, God's patience, God's love'. Moreover, even 'the book of Wisdom says that the joy of the Lord is among the children of man, with us'.

So 'as Christmas approaches', it came naturally to Pope Francis - as he himself confided in concluding his reflection - to think: 'If he made his history with us, if he took his last name from us, if he let us write his history', we for our part should let God write ours. Because, he clarified, 'holiness' is precisely 'letting the Lord write our story'. And this is the Christmas wish that the Pontiff wanted to make 'for all of us'. A wish that is an invitation to open our hearts: "Let the Lord write history for you and let you let him write it for you."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 18/12/2013].

Annunciation to Joseph: meaning and value of Doubt

(Mt 1:16.18-21.24)

"Even through Joseph's anguish there passes the will of God, his story, his plan. Joseph thus teaches us that having faith in God also includes believing that He can work even through our fears, our frailties, our weakness. And he teaches us that, in the midst of the storms of life, we must not be afraid to leave the helm of our boat to God. Sometimes we would like to control everything, but He always has a greater vision' [Patris Corde no.2].

In the infancy gospels of Mt God takes on two Names: Redeemer [Yeshua: God is Saviour] and With-us. The meaning of these divine prerogatives is not mechanical, but theological.

The Proper Name of the Son Jesus describes his Work of redeeming the whole being. And the characteristic attribute Immanu'el (taken from Isaiah) punctuates his many addresses - his many addresses, which are each of us, growing over time.

Incarnation: the Father places himself alongside his sons and daughters. Not only is he not afraid to make himself impure in contact with the things that concern human dynamics: he even recognises himself in their condition.

Hence, from Joseph's embarrassment even springs the climax of the entire Salvation Story.

The sources attest that he was by no means a lily-livered character, but perhaps this can only interest us up to a point. 

Mt's narrative is striking, because the distinction and the possibility of irruption (of the very summit) of God's Plan for humanity seem to arise not from a certainty, but from a Doubt.

The question mark engages. Discomfort sows within a new Seed. It rips up and tears down the all-too-even seedlings of the weed of full life - which was Law chiselled on appearances.

The 'problem' leads to dreaming of other horizons to open up, and in the first person; because the solution is not at hand.

Perplexity leads out of the mental cages that mortify relationships previously reduced to casuistry - flying over the gears that depersonalise.

Perplexity leads out of common opinion, which dampens and extinguishes the Newness of God.

Hesitancy seeks existential fissures, because it wants to introduce us into life's territories - where others can also draw on different experiences, varied perceptions, and moments in which to gain decisive insights.

Its skilful Energy finds breaches and small openings; it acts to make us evolve as children of Eternity - even stirring up discomforts that flood existence with creative suspensions and new passion.

Its lucid Action breaks through Dreams that shake off habitual projects, or states of mind that put us on edge; and the bottlenecks of marginalised thinking that make us rediscover why we were born, discover our part in the world.

Every wobble, every pain, every danger, every move, can become a birth towards Oneness - without identifications first.

Uniqueness does not make us lose the Source that 'watches over' us. Woe betide if we evade it: we would lose our destination.

This while the circles of the resolute remain there and wither away, precisely because they are always ready to explain everything.

Thus, for example, as for the Family of Nazareth, life in solitude - forced or not - becomes regenerating rather than terrible.

The Spirit that slips into the crevices of standard mentalities finds an intimate 'spot' that allows us to flourish differently now, able to bring out the essence of who we authentically are, and stop copying clichés.

So instead of wondering how something happened, after the first discriminating experience that is unafraid of being isolated, perhaps we return more frequently to our Core, which ceaselessly gushes for a higher Dialogue.

Then we will not keep asking ourselves 'But whose fault is it? How should we buffer the situation? Who should we lean on?' Rather: 'What is the new life I have to explore? What is there yet to be discovered?'

One will come out with a very different virtue of vocation, because the Holy Spirit breaks through the cracks in the norms that make conformists, then dismantles and topples those walls. Finally he breaks through, to build his story - which is not predictable, 'in the way' as that of all those bound to comparison.

Feeling the discomfort of participating in rituals of composite identification causes many problems, but it can be life's great opportunity to broaden the horizons... even of those who do not like to tread the mediocre path of securing themselves - making themselves, out of fear, dependent on opinion, on clichés, on feeling immediately celebrated.

Apparent happiness. For the bite of doubts does not make one a junk-believer, as assumed in the disciplined, legalistic religions - in the puritanical philosophies of contrived wisdom - but a friend, adopted [i.e. chosen] children and heirs.

Thanks to the Relationship of Faith, we are no longer lost in the wilderness - because the many things and ventures become dialogue of specific weight: we are at Home, in respect of our mysterious character and Calling.

Already here and now we move away from the many things that constrain our Centre with constraints and demands - and both thought and action.

Only in this way are we no longer a mythological or habituated crowd, overflowing with guilt, duties and affiliations - but family and colloquial informality of dissonance.

No longer masses, but (all round) Persons: precisely in our being in the limit we rhyme with great-Mission.

Let us begin as Joseph to be present to ourselves. And by changing our gaze, we will enjoy the Beauty of the New.

"St Joseph reminds us that all those who are apparently hidden or in the "second line" have an unparalleled prominence in the history of salvation. To all of them goes a word of recognition and gratitude" [Patris Corde intr.]

To internalise and live the message:

What were your turning points? What diversions has fulfilled you?

On what occasion did doubt open up astonishing horizons for you?

When and if you changed your conformist gaze, did you or did you not know the kindling in your inner world of perspectives, relationships and regenerating energies?

How did you perceive alongside and 'see' or 'dream' what previously remained Invisible and Elsewhere?

Did you perhaps start from a certainty of your own?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today, 19 March, is the Solemnity of St Joseph, but as it coincides with the Third Sunday of Lent, its liturgical celebration is postponed until tomorrow. However, the Marian context of the Angelus invites us to reflect today with veneration on the figure of the Blessed Virgin Mary's spouse and Patron of the universal Church.

I like to recall that beloved John Paul II was also very devoted to St Joseph, to whom he dedicated the Apostolic Exhortation Redemptoris Custos, Guardian of the Redeemer, and who surely experienced his assistance at the hour of death.

The figure of this great Saint, even though remaining somewhat hidden, is of fundamental importance in the history of salvation. Above all, as part of the tribe of Judah, he united Jesus to the Davidic lineage so that, fulfilling the promises regarding the Messiah, the Son of the Virgin Mary may truly be called the "son of David".

The Gospel of Matthew highlights in a special way the Messianic prophecies which reached fulfilment through the role that Joseph played:  the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem (2: 1-6); his journey through Egypt, where the Holy Family took refuge (2: 13-15); the nickname, the "Nazarene" (2: 22-23).

In all of this he showed himself, like his spouse Mary, an authentic heir of Abraham's faith:  faith in God who guides the events of history according to his mysterious salvific plan. His greatness, like Mary's, stands out even more because his mission was carried out in the humility and hiddenness of the house of Nazareth. Moreover, God himself, in the person of his Incarnate Son, chose this way and style of life - humility and hiddenness - in his earthly existence.

From the example of St Joseph we all receive a strong invitation to carry out with fidelity, simplicity and modesty the task that Providence has entrusted to us. I think especially of fathers and mothers of families, and I pray that they will always be able to appreciate the beauty of a simple and industrious life, cultivating the conjugal relationship with care and fulfilling with enthusiasm the great and difficult educational mission.

To priests, who exercise a paternal role over Ecclesial Communities, may St Joseph help them love the Church with affection and complete dedication, and may he support consecrated persons in their joyous and faithful observance of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. May he protect workers throughout the world so that they contribute with their different professions to the progress of the whole of humanity, and may he help every Christian to fulfil God's will with confidence and love, thereby cooperating in the fulfilment of the work of salvation.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 19 March 2006]

2. "Joseph, Son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins" (Mt 1:20-21).

In these words we find the core of biblical truth about St. Joseph; they refer to that moment in his life to which the Fathers of the Church make special reference.

The Evangelist Matthew explains the significance of this moment while also describing how Joseph lived it. However, in order to understand fully both its content and context, it is important to keep in mind the parallel passage in the Gospel of Luke. In Matthew we read: "Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 1:18). However, the origin of Mary's pregnancy "of the Holy Spirit" is described more fully and explicitly in what Luke tells us about the annunciation of Jesus' birth: "The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary" (Lk 1:26-27). The angel's greeting: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28) created an inner turmoil in Mary and also moved her to reflect. Then the messenger reassured the Virgin and at the same time revealed God's special plan for her: "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David" (Lk 1:30-32).

A little earlier the Gospel writer had stated that at the moment of the Annunciation, Mary was "betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David." The nature of this "marriage" is explained indirectly when Mary, after hearing what the messenger says about the birth of the child, asks, "How can this be, since I do not know man?" (Lk 1:34) The angel responds: "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God" (Lk 1:35). Although Mary is already "wedded" to Joseph, she will remain a virgin, because the child conceived in her at the Annunciation was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit.

At this point Luke's text coincides with Matthew 1:18 and serves to explain what we read there. If, after her marriage to Joseph, Mary is found to be with child of the Holy Spirit," this fact corresponds to all that the Annunciation means, in particular to Mary's final words: "Let it be to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38). In response to what is clearly the plan of God, with the passing of days and weeks Mary's "pregnancy" is visible to the people and to Joseph; she appears before them as one who must give birth and carry within herself the mystery of motherhood.

3. In these circumstances, "her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to send her away quietly" (Mt 1:19). He did not know how to deal with Mary's "astonishing" motherhood. He certainly sought an answer to this unsettling question, but above all he sought a way out of what was for him a difficult situation. "But as he considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins'" (Mt 1:20-21).

There is a strict parallel between the "annunciation" in Matthew's text and the one in Luke. The divine messenger introduces Joseph to the mystery of Mary's motherhood. While remaining a virgin, she who by law is his "spouse" has become a mother through the power of the Holy Spirit. And when the Son in Mary's womb comes into the world, he must receive the name Jesus. This was a name known among the Israelites and sometimes given to their sons. In this case, however, it is the Son who, in accordance with the divine promise, will bring to perfect fulfillment the meaning of the name Jesus-Yehos ua' - which means "God saves."

Joseph is visited by the messenger as "Mary's spouse," as the one who in due time must give this name to the Son to be born of the Virgin of Nazareth who is married to him. It is to Joseph, then, that the messenger turns, entrusting to him the responsibilities of an earthly father with regard to Mary's Son.

"When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him and took Mary as his wife" (cf. Mt 1:24). He took her in all the mystery of her motherhood. He took her together with the Son who had come into the world by the power of the Holy Spirit. In this way he showed a readiness of will like Mary's with regard to what God asked of him through the angel.

[Pope John Paul II, Redemtoris Custos]

Today we will reflect on Saint Joseph as the father of Jesus. The evangelists Matthew and Luke present him as the foster father of Jesus, and not as his biological father. Matthew specifies this, avoiding the formula “the father of”, used in the genealogy for all the ancestors of Jesus; instead, he defines Joseph as the “husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ” (1:16). Luke, on the other hand, affirms it by saying that he was Jesus’ “supposed” father (3:23), that is, he appeared as His father,

To understand the supposed or legal paternity of Joseph, it is necessary to bear in mind that in ancient times in the East the institution of adoption was very common, more so than today. Think of the common case in Israel of the “levirate”, as formulated in Deuteronomy: “If brothers dwell together, and one of them dies and has no son, the wife of the dead shall not be married outside the family to a stranger; her husband’s brother shall go in to her, and take her as his wife, and perform the duty of a husband’s brother to her. And the first son whom she bears shall succeed to the name of his brother who is dead, that his name may not be blotted out of Israel” (25:5-6). In other words, the parent of this child is the brother-in-law, but the legal father remains the deceased, who gives the newborn child all hereditary rights. The purpose of this law was twofold: to ensure the descendants of the deceased and the preservation of the estate.

As the official father of Jesus, Joseph exercises the right to impose a name on his son, legally recognising him. Legally he is the father, but not generatively; he did not beget Him.

In ancient times, the name was the compendium of a person’s identity. To change one’s name meant changing oneself, as in the case of Abraham, whose name God changed to “Abraham”, which means “father of many”, “for”, says the Book of Genesis, he will be “the father of a multitude of nations” (17:5). The same goes for Jacob, who would be called “Israel”, which means he who has “striven with God”, because he fought with God to compel Him to give him the blessing (cf. Gen 32:28; 35:10).

But above all, naming someone or something meant asserting one’s authority over what was named, as Adam did when he conferred a name on all the animals (cf. Gen 2:19-20).

Joseph already knows that a name had already been prepared for Mary’s son, by God — Jesus’ name is given to him by his true father, God — The name “Jesus”, which means “the Lord saves”; as the Angel explains, “He will save his people from their sins” (Mt 1:21). This particular aspect of Joseph now enables us to reflect on fatherhood and motherhood. And this, I believe, is very important: to think about fatherhood today. Because we live in an age of notorious orphanhood. It is curious: our civilization is somewhat orphan, and this orphanhood can be felt. May Saint Joseph, help us understand how to resolve this sense of orphanhood that is so harmful to us today.

To bring a child into the world is not enough to say that one is also their father or mother. “Fathers are not born, but made. A man does not become a father simply by bringing a child into the world, but by taking up the responsibility to care for that child. Whenever a man accepts responsibility for the life of another, in some way he becomes a father to that person” (Apostolic Letter Patris corde). I think particularly of all those who are open to welcoming life by way of adoption, which is such a generous and beautiful, good attitude. Joseph shows us that this type of bond is not secondary; it is not second best. This kind of choice is among the highest forms of love, and of fatherhood and motherhood. How many children in the world are waiting for someone to take care of them! And how many married couples want to be fathers and mothers but are unable to do so for biological reasons; or, although they already have children, they want to share their family’s affection with those who do not have it. We should not be afraid to choose the path of adoption, to take the “risk” of welcoming. And today, even with orphanhood, there is a certain selfishness. The other day, I spoke about the demographic winter that exists nowadays: people do not want to have children, or just one and no more. And many couples do not have children because they do not want to, or they have just one because they do not want any more, but they have two dogs, two cats…. Yes, dogs and cats take the place of children. Yes, it is funny, I understand, but it is the reality. And this denial of fatherhood or motherhood diminishes us, it takes away our humanity. And in this way civilization becomes more aged and without humanity, because it loses the richness of fatherhood and motherhood. And our homeland suffers as it does not have children, and, as someone said somewhat humorously, “and now that there are no children, who will pay the taxes for my pension? Who will take care of me?”. He laughed, but it is the truth. I ask of Saint Joseph the grace to awaken consciences and to think about this: about having children. Fatherhood and motherhood are the fullness of the life of a person. Think about this. It is true, there is the spiritual fatherhood of those who consecrate themselves to God, and spiritual motherhood; but those who live in the world and get married, have to think about having children, of giving life, because they will be the ones to shut their eyes, who will think about the future. And also, if you cannot have children, think about adoption. It is a risk, yes: having a child is always a risk, either naturally or by adoption. But it is riskier not to have them. It is riskier to deny fatherhood or to deny motherhood, be it real or spiritual. A man or a woman who do not voluntarily develop a sense of fatherhood or motherhood are lacking something fundamental, something important. Think about this, please.

I hope that the institutions will always be prepared to help with adoptions, by seriously monitoring but also simplifying the necessary procedures so that the dream of so many children who need a family, and of so many couples who wish to give themselves in love, can come true. Some time ago I heard the testimony of a person, a doctor — important in his profession — who did not have children, and along with his wife, he decided to adopt one. And when the time came, they were offered a child, and they were told, “But we do not know how this child’s health will progress. Perhaps he may have an illness”. And he said — he had seen him — he said, “If you had asked me about this before coming, perhaps I would have said no. But I have seen him: I will take him with me”. This is the longing to be an adoptive father, to be an adoptive mother too. Do not be afraid of this.

I pray that no one may feel deprived of the bond of paternal love. And may those who are afflicted with orphanhood, go forward without this very unpleasant feeling. May Saint Joseph protect, and give his help to orphans; and may he intercede for couples who wish to have a child. Let us pray for this together:

Saint Joseph,
you who loved Jesus with fatherly love,
be close to the many children who have no family
and who long for a dad and mom.
Support the couples who are unable to have children,
help them to discover, through this suffering, a greater plan.
Make sure that no one lacks a home, a bond,
a person to take care of him or her;
and heal the selfishness of those who close themselves off from life,
that they may open their hearts to love.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 5 January 2022]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is the commentary on next Sunday's texts with the assurance of prayer for the Pope and for the great spiritual and social needs of our society.

2nd Sunday in Lent year C (16 March 2025)

*First Reading from the book of Genesis (15.5-12.17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed and torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. In addition, both parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, that is, life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God that on the surface seems to respect traditional rites yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Similar to similar rituals is that Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and chased them away considering them birds of ill omen (Abraham, despite having discovered the true God, still retained a certain superstition). What is different, however, is that at sunset Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and profound anguish and at that moment he sees a smoking brazier and a blazing torch passing among the pieces of animals. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, but uses a word that is not in common use but was already used to indicate Adam's sleep while God created woman. It is therefore a way of saying two things: firstly, man cannot witness God's work and when man wakes up (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins; it also shows that man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while for man it is enough to trust: Abraham had faith in the Lord and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, descendant and land terms placed in inclusion in the narrative: at the beginning, God had said: look at the sky and count the stars, if you can... so shall your descendants be, "I am the Lord, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees to give you possession of this land" and at the end: "To your descendants I give this land".  Surprising is this promise to a childless old man, and it is not the first time that God has made it to him even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment while continuing to walk sustained only by the promise of a God unknown to him. Let us recall the precedents of his vocation: "Get thee out of thy country, and out of thy father's house, unto the land that I will show thee. I will make you a great nation (Gen 12:1) and the Bible has always emphasised the indomitable faith of Abraham who "departed as the Lord had told him" (Gen 12:4). Here, the text states: "Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord counted him righteous". This is the first appearance of the word faith in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firm: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous, and in the Bible, the righteous is he whose will is according to God's will. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: "If you believe... you will be saved" (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives and asks only one thing of us... to believe, that is, to trust him. 

Notes for further study.

v.7: "I am the Lord who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees"; it is the same verb used for the exit from Egypt with Moses, six hundred years later: God's work is presented from the beginning as a work of deliverance.

- v.12: "mysterious sleep" = tardemah = same word used for Adam, Abraham and Saul (1 Sam 26).

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on closer inspection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind of the praying person who feels empowered to say everything to the Lord. And so prayer embraces man's entire existence: serenity that stems from certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation: of whom shall I be afraid? The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", combined with an ardent plea - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!' Israel has always kept its faith firm in the midst of its vicissitudes and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. Finally, between the first and the last verse, there is the passage from the present to the future: in the first verse, "The Lord is my light and my salvation" which is the language of faith, that is, of unshakeable trust, while in the last verse, "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord ... and hope in the Lord, be strong" expresses hope conjugated together with faith in the future. There are ways to comment on this psalm often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we will stop at just these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  First of all, "Your face, Lord, I seek": seeing the face of God is the desire, the thirst of every believer because we are created in the image of God and we are drawn to him, our Creator. The desire to seek his face becomes more intense during Lent. As the Lord told Moses, we cannot see him and remain alive (cf. Ex 33:18-23. In this text, the greatness and inaccessibility of God is present together with all the tender closeness of God, who is so immense that we cannot see him with our eyes. The radiance of his ineffable, inaccessible Presence - what the texts call his glory - is in fact too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze upon the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: he who believes is no longer afraid of anything, not even death, and no other god can ever arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? Confidence that we find again in the last verse: "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living". But what is the land of the living? Certainly the land given to his people and the possession of which has become for Israel a symbol of God's gifts, but there is also the reminder of the demands of the Covenant: the holy land was given to the chosen people to live in holily. And this is one of the main themes of the book of Deuteronomy (cf. Deut 5:32-33), where the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to human history, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who think that the rite of circumcision remains indispensable even now act as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' has not taken place and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant, but St Paul warns them sternly, inviting them to beware of dogs, bad workers and false circumcision (3:2), adding that the (true) circumcised are we, who worship through the Spirit of God by putting our glory in Jesus Christ without trusting in ourselves. He even uses a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence and salvation is in Jesus Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. False circumcisions, on the other hand, are those who have received circumcision in their flesh, according to the law of Moses, and attach greater importance to this rite than baptism. And when Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision. Moreover, Paul sees another pitfall in the believer's attitude: is salvation earned by one's own practices or do we receive it freely from God? When he says that the belly is their god, he wants to imply that these people are betting on Jewish ritual practices and they are wrong: "they boast of what they ought to be ashamed of and think only of the things of the earth" for which "their final fate will be perdition".  And he goes on to point out which is the right choice: he reminds the Philippians that our citizenship is in heaven while we await Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body, with the active power that makes him even able to subject all things to his dominion. If we await him as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is placed in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the true circumcision and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model since if there was one with merits to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. For he writes that if anyone else believes that he can trust in himself, I can trust even more, I, circumcised on the eighth day, of the seed of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Jew, the son of Jews; by the law, a Pharisee; by zeal, a persecutor of the Church; by the righteousness found in the law, become blameless. Now all these things, which were gains for me, I counted as loss because of Christ (cf. Phil 3:4-7). In summary, to take Paul's example means to make Jesus Christ - and not our practices - the centre of our lives and this means to be 'citizens of heaven'.

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples this question: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". Jesus then announced the necessity of the sacrifice of the Son of Man rejected by the elders, the high priests and the scribes, put to death but resurrected on the third day. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later. Jesus leads Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again and it is in this context that God chooses to reveal the mystery of the Messiah to these three privileged ones. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. The presence of Moses and Elijah is understandable since Moses spent forty days on Sinai in the presence of God and came down with a face so radiant that it amazed everyone. Elijah, on the other hand, walked for forty days and forty nights to the mountain where God revealed Himself in a totally unexpected way: not in the power of wind, fire, or earthquake, but in the gentle whisper of a gentle breeze. The two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of seeing the glory of God are also present here where the glory of Christ is manifested. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the cross and resurrection, which he calls the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. From the cloud a voice says: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!". These three words: My Son, the Chosen One, Listen to him, expressed at the time of Christ the diversity of portraits with which the Messiah was imagined. The title of Son of God was conferred on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "Behold my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him, seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him: "I will raise up to them a prophet like you from among their brethren; I will put my words in his mouth" (Deut 18:18), and some inferred from this that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. "Listen to him," is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, contemplating the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that he did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. God's plan is not for a chosen few: Peter, James and John must rather hurry to join the others and work because on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. Paul says it in his letter to the Philippians: "we are citizens of heaven".

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Here is a short version for those who wish it 

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (15:5-12, 17-18)

 In the time of Abraham, the covenant between two heads of tribes took place with a ceremonial similar to the one described here: adult animals in the fullness of their strength were sacrificed, torn in two as if to say: may the same happen to me as to these if I am not faithful to the covenant we are making. Furthermore, both contracting parties would walk barefoot through the carcasses thus wanting to share blood, i.e. life, and become like blood relatives. The animals had to be three years old because mothers suckled their children until they were three years old and the number 3 had become a symbol of maturity so that the three-year-old animal was considered an adult. Abraham performs these customary rites for a covenant with God. On the surface, he seems to respect the traditional rites, yet everything is different because for the first time in human history, one of the contracting parties is God himself. Let us first take a closer look at what is similar: Abraham rips the animals in two and places each half in front of the other without, however, dividing the birds because the birds of prey descended on the carcasses and Abraham chased them away considering them birds of ill omen. But there is something unusual: at sunset, Abraham falls into a mysterious sleep accompanied by a dark and deep anguish. The text speaks of a mysterious sleep, a word already used to refer to Adam's sleep while God created the woman, and it is used to say two things: first, man cannot witness God's work and when man awakens (whether Adam or Abraham), a new day, a new creation, begins. Moreover, man and God are not on the same level because in the work of creation and the covenant God takes all the initiative while man only has to trust: Abraham had faith and the Lord considered him righteous. God's presence is symbolised by fire, as is often the case in the Bible: "a smoking brazier and a blazing torch", like the burning bush, the smoke of Sinai, the pillar of fire that accompanied the people during the Exodus in the desert, up to the tongues of fire of Pentecost. These are the terms of the covenant: God promises Abraham a descendant and a land, a promise already made to a childless old man even though until now Abraham has not even seen the shadow of its fulfilment, but continues to trust a God unknown to him. For the first time, the word faith appears in the Bible: it is the irruption of faith into human history. The verb to believe in Hebrew comes from a root meaning to stand firmly: Amen comes from the same root. To believe means to stand firm, to trust to the end, even in doubt, discouragement and anguish. This is Abraham's attitude; and that is why God considers him righteous. The text states: 'Abraham had faith in the Lord, and the Lord considered him righteous'. Later, St Paul will use this phrase to affirm that salvation is not a matter of merit: 'If you believe... you will be saved' (Rom 10:9). On reflection, God gives everything and asks only one thing of us: to trust him. 

*Responsorial Psalm (26 (27),1.7-8.9a-d.13-14)

 This psalm presents such contrasting states of mind that one could almost doubt that it is the same person speaking from beginning to end, but, on reflection, it always expresses the same faith that manifests itself in both exultation and supplication according to the states of mind in which we find ourselves because prayer embraces the whole of human existence. Serenity is born of certainty - "The Lord is my light and my salvation ... he is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?", together with ardent supplication - "Hear, Lord, my voice. I cry out: have mercy on me, answer me!". In times of joy as well as in times of trial, Israel has always kept its confidence firm and indeed in difficulties has made its faith more true. This psalm returns often in the three-year liturgical cycle, so today we pause only on these two verses: "Your face, Lord, I seek" and "I am certain to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living".  To see the face of God is the desire of every believer because we are created in God's image and are drawn to him, but the radiance of his ineffable Presence, which the Bible calls his glory, is too blinding for us. Can our eyes gaze into the sun? How then can they look at God? This greatness, however, does not crush man, on the contrary, it protects him, it is his security and the profound respect that invades the believer before God does not arouse fear, but a mixture of total trust and infinite respect that the Bible calls 'fear of God'. This helps us understand the first verse: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" That is: the believer is no longer afraid of anything or anyone, not even death, and no other god can ever again arouse in him that religious feeling of fear, as the next verse reiterates: "The Lord is the defence of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? We find trust again in the last verse: 'I am sure to contemplate the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living'. And the living in the biblical sense are the believers.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:17-4:1)

The fundamental question of Christianity and central to the history of humanity, as it emerges in the Gospel, in the Acts of the Apostles, in Paul's letters, and which continues to be relevant today, is this: the incarnation, passion, death and resurrection of Christ, which the Apostle calls here "the cross of Christ".  If Christ truly died and rose again, the face of the world was changed because he made peace with the blood of his cross. For Paul, the cross of Christ is truly the crucial event for the Christian that changes the way of thinking, reasoning and living. Those who thought that the rite of circumcision was also indispensable were acting as if the event of the 'cross of Christ' had not taken place, and St Paul calls them the 'enemies of the cross of Christ'. The Philippians may have been hesitant and St Paul urges them to beware of the false circumcisers (3:2), adding that the truly circumcised are we who place all our trust in Jesus Christ. And he goes so far as to use a paradox: the truly circumcised are those who are not circumcised in their flesh, but baptised into Jesus Christ because their whole existence is in Christ and they know that they are saved by the cross of Christ and not by ritual practices. When Paul states that "the belly is their god" he is referring precisely to circumcision and wants to make it clear that these people are betting on their ritual practices. The right choice is to remember that we are citizens of heaven and await the Lord Jesus Christ as saviour, who will transform our poor bodies into the image of his glorious body. If we await Christ as saviour, it means that we recognise that all our trust is in him and not in ourselves and our own merits. We are thus the circumcised (the true) and worship by the Spirit of God, because our glory is placed in Jesus Christ and we do not trust in ourselves. At this point Paul sets himself up as a model, since if there was one with merit to be reckoned with under Jewish law, it was he. By setting himself as an example he encourages us to make Christ, and not ritual practices, the centre of our lives and if we are in Christ we are already 'citizens of heaven', even though we still dwell on earth. 

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (9:28-36)

In chapter nine Luke relates that Jesus, while he was praying in a lonely place, asked the disciples: "Who do the crowds say that I am?", then to them: "But who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered: "The Christ (i.e. the Messiah) of God". And Jesus said: It is necessary that the Son of Man should suffer much, be rejected, put to death, and, on the third day, rise again. Today's episode seems to take up the same discourse eight days later with Jesus leading Peter, James and John up the mountain because he wants to pray with them again, and in this context God chooses to reveal to these three privileged ones the mystery of the Messiah. Here it is no longer men, the crowd or the disciples, who express their opinion, but it is God himself who provides the answer and invites us to contemplate the mystery of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The mountain of the Transfiguration brings to mind Sinai, and Luke chooses a vocabulary that evokes the context of God's revelation on Sinai: the mountain, the cloud, the glory, the resounding voice, the tents. Understandable is the presence of Moses and Elijah, the two Old Testament characters who had the privilege of the revelation of God's glory and are now witnesses of Christ's glory. Only Luke specifies the content of their conversation with Jesus, that is, they were talking about his exodus that was about to take place in Jerusalem. Luke uses the word exodus because one cannot separate the glory of Christ from the Cross, and he uses it referring to the Passover of Christ. Just as the Passover of Moses inaugurated the Exodus of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the land of freedom, the Passover of Christ opens the path of liberation for all mankind. Everything hinges on three words that expressed the different conceptions of the Messiah at the time of Christ: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!" The title Son of God was bestowed on kings on the day of their consecration; the Elect is one of the names of the servant of God mentioned by Isaiah in the Servant Songs: "This is my servant whom I uphold, my Elect"; Hear him seems to allude to the promise God made to Moses to raise up a prophet after him (Deut 18:18), and some inferred that the expected Messiah would be a prophet. Listen to him! This is not the order of a demanding or domineering teacher, but a plea: Listen to him, that is, trust him. Peter, amazed by the transfigured face of Jesus, proposes to settle on the mountain all together, but Luke specifies that Peter did not know what he was saying because it is not the case to isolate oneself from the world and its problems since time is short. Rather, Peter, James and John must hurry to join the others because God's plan is not limited to a chosen few: on the last day, it will be the whole of humanity that will be transfigured. St Paul in his letter to the Philippians said that "we are citizens of heaven", because through baptism we are already in eternal life even though we are still pilgrimage on earth.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Being present to oneself: do not replace love with flakes and bows

(Mt 23:1-12)

The New Relationship between God and man could not be contained within the detailed rules of the First Covenant and its heavy customs.

At the time of Jesus, such sick obsessions of snooty verticism dominated, therefore only epidermal; incapable of providing breath, freedom, propulsive motivation.

The pyramidal conception of the world and the exterior idea of ​​the plot of the spiritual life do not correspond to Revelation.

Our reality is interwoven with opposing states, which innervate and complete; even making move forward. Sometime turning into a torrent in flood.

A refusal, an abandonment, an experience of failure, limitations, illness or others’ disregard - even a crisis - can bring us back to the dormant energies of life and give birth to the new Person.

How to contact our new ways of being? What precautions should be taken to enter a regeneration dynamism that helps to develop a lively climate - and where to start?

Jesus proposes Faith: a founding Relationship, that is, a new way of placing oneself before the Father and the world... with a trusting, spousal and creative attitude; in the initiative of another point of view.

Multifaceted love, Eros coming to us in a palpable dialogue - not without inner struggles.

This in the time of a path (singular, not at all traced or external). Even on the spur of the moment, annoying, because it goes against the tide.

The religious authorities, on the other hand, sought their security in the rigorous and conspicuous observance of the written and oral Law. 

Without risk or mind-boggling customizations.

Faced with such an accommodating mentality, free from vertigo, the young Master insists on the practice of Friendship [much stronger than willpower] which relativizes the obligations.

He thus gives its true sense to the profound Tradition, rediscovering the authentic meaning of the Torah and the rules of behavior.

After all, it was precisely the spiritual leaders of the official religion who were the first to disbelieve what they preached to others... or felt exempt from it, because they were used to thinking of themselves as elective, recognised, selected, chosen models - almost cast from above.

The exaggerated spirit of control is a false attitude in itself - it causes excessive forcing, deaf to the inner core. But also deleterious for the building up of a family atmosphere, or encounter’s culture, synodal way; and so on.

By insisting, on the other hand, on the [yes, infallible] attitude of mutual service, there will no longer be time to get caught up in vanity, the dispute over priorities, discussions, and the gap between saying and doing.

Where can the theatre of unlove, which does not vitalise but depresses God's people, re-start from, instead?

From the imperishable scribes and pharisees (v.2). Self-styled superiors, with a limited and reductive yardstick.

Well, according to the Gospels, whoever assumes direct ecclesial duties has no right to any "ribbon": he’s simply a «deacon» (v.11) of the sisters and brothers.

To internalize and live the message:

Do you like ribbons? What does your soul say about peacocks?

[Tuesday 2nd wk. in Lent, March 18, 2025]