5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A) [8 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! We are approaching Lent. Let us begin to prepare ourselves spiritually. After the sixth Sunday, on 15 February, we will enter Lent.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (58:7-10)

At first glance, this text might seem like a nice moral lesson, which would already be something. In reality, however, it says much more. The context is that of the end of the 6th century BC: the return from exile has taken place, but deep wounds remain, 'the devastation of the past' and ruins to be rebuilt. In Jerusalem, religious practice has been re-established and, in good faith, people are trying to please God. However, the prophet has a delicate message to convey: the worship that pleases God is not what the people imagine. The fasts are spectacular, but daily life is marked by quarrels, violence and greed. For this reason, Isaiah denounces a worship that claims to obtain God's favour without conversion of heart: 'You fast for strife and self-defeating arguments... Is this the fast that I choose?' (Isaiah 58:4-5).

We are faced with one of the strongest texts in the Old Testament, which shakes our ideas about God and religion and answers with great clarity a fundamental question: what does God expect of us? These few biblical verses are the fruit of a long maturation in the faith of Israel. From Abraham onwards, people sought what pleased God: first human sacrifices, then animal sacrifices, then fasting, offerings and prayers. But throughout this history, the prophets never ceased to remind the people that true worship cannot be separated from the daily life of the Covenant. This is why Isaiah proclaims: the fast that God desires is to loose the chains of injustice, to free the oppressed, to break every yoke. In God's eyes, every gesture that frees a brother or sister is worth more than the most austere fast. This is followed by a list of concrete actions: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the homeless poor, clothing the naked, and helping all human misery. It is here that the truth of faith is measured. Three observations conclude the message: First, these actions are an imitation of God's own work, which Israel has always experienced as liberating and merciful. Human beings are truly called to be the image of God, and the way they treat others reveals their relationship with Him. Second: when Isaiah promises 'the glory of the Lord' (v. 8) to those who care for the poor, he is not speaking of an external reward, but of a reality: those who act like God reflect His presence, becoming light in the darkness, because 'where there is love, there is God'. Thirdly, every gesture of justice, liberation and sharing is a step towards the Kingdom of God, that Kingdom of justice and love that the Old Testament awaits and that the Gospel of the Beatitudes presents as being built day by day by the meek, the peaceful and those who hunger for justice.

*Responsorial Psalm (111/112)

Every year, during the Feast of Tabernacles, a feast that still lasts a week in autumn, the whole people made what we might call their "profession of faith": they renewed their Covenant with God and recommitted themselves to respecting the Law. Psalm 111/112 was certainly sung on this occasion. The entire psalm is in itself a short treatise on life in the Covenant: to understand it better, you have to read it from the beginning. I will read you the first verse: 'Hallelujah! Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart!'. First of all, the psalm begins with the word Hallelujah, literally "Praise God," which is the key word of believers: when the man of the Bible invites us to praise God, it is precisely because of the gift of the Covenant. Then, this psalm is an alphabetical psalm: that is, it contains twenty-two verses, as many as there are letters in the Hebrew alphabet; the first word of each verse begins with a letter of the alphabet in alphabetical order. It is a way of affirming that the Covenant with God concerns the whole of man's life and that God's Law is the only path to happiness for the whole of existence, from A to Z. Finally, the first verse begins with the word 'blessed', addressed to the man who knows how to remain on the path of the Covenant. This immediately brings to mind the Gospel of the Beatitudes, which echoes the same term 'blessed': Jesus uses a word here that is very common in the Bible, but which unfortunately our English translation does not fully convey. In his commentary on the Psalms, André Chouraqui observed that the Hebrew root of this word (blessed is the man Ashrê hā'îsh) has as its fundamental meaning the path, the man's steps on the unobstructed road that leads to the Lord. It is therefore 'less about happiness than about the path that leads to it'. For this reason, Chouraqui himself translated 'Blessed' as 'On the way', implying: you are on the right path, continue. Generally, in the Bible, the word 'blessed' does not stand alone: it is contrasted with its opposite 'unhappy' (blessed is barùk and cursed is 'arūr). The general idea is that in life there are false paths to avoid; some choices or behaviours lead to good, others, on the contrary, lead only to unhappiness. And if we read the entire psalm, we realise that it is constructed in this way. Even the better-known Psalm 1 is structured in the same way: first it describes the good paths, the path to happiness, and only briefly the bad ones, because they are not worth dwelling on. Here, the good choice is already indicated in the first verse: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!'. We find this expression frequently in the Old Testament: the 'fear of God'. Unfortunately, in the liturgical reading, the second part of the verse is missing; I will read it to you in its entirety: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart.' Here, then, is a definition of 'fear of God': it is love of his will, because one acts in trust. The fear of the Lord is not fear in a negative sense: in fact, a little further on, another verse makes this clear: "The righteous man... trusts in the Lord. His heart is secure" (vv. 7-8). The "fear of God" in the biblical sense is both an awareness of God's holiness, a recognition of all that He does for man and, since He is our Creator, a concern to obey Him: only He knows what is good for us. It is a filial attitude of respect and trusting obedience. Israel thus discovers two truths: God is the All-Other, but He also makes Himself All-Near. He is infinitely powerful, but this power is that of love. We have nothing to fear, because He can and wants our happiness! In Psalm 102/103 we read: "As a father's compassion is toward his children, so the Lord's compassion is toward those who fear Him." To fear the Lord means to have a respectful and trusting attitude toward Him. It also means "to lean on Him." This is the right attitude towards God, the one that puts man on the right path: "Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!" And this is also the right attitude towards others: "The righteous man, merciful, compassionate and just... he gives generously to the poor" (vv. 4, 8). The previous psalm (110/111), very similar to this one, uses the same words "justice, tenderness and mercy" for God and for man. Daily observance of the Law, in everyday life, from A to Z, as symbolised by the alphabet of the psalm, shapes us in God's likeness. I say likeness, because the psalmist reminds us that the Lord remains the All-Other: the formulas are not identical. For God, it is said that He is justice, tenderness and mercy, while for man, the psalmist says "he is a man of justice, tenderness and mercy", that is, these are virtues that he practises, not his intrinsic being. These virtues come from God, and man reflects them in some way. And because his actions are in the image of God, the righteous man becomes a light for others: 'he springs up in the darkness, a light for the upright' (v. 4). Here we hear an echo of the first reading from the prophet Isaiah: 'Share your bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into your house, clothe the naked... then your light will rise like the dawn' (58:7). When we give and share, we are more in the image of God, who is pure gift. To the extent that we are able, we reflect his light.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (2:1-5)

 Saint Paul, as he often does, proceeds by contrasts: the first contrast is that the mystery of God is completely different from the wisdom of men; the second contrast concerns the language of the apostle who proclaims the mystery, which is very different from beautiful human speech and eloquence. Let us take up these two contrasts: the mystery of God / human wisdom; Christian language / eloquence or oratory. First contrast: the mystery of God or human wisdom. Paul says that he came 'to proclaim the mystery of God'; by mystery we mean God's 'merciful plan', which will be developed later in the Letter to the Ephesians (Eph 1:3-14): this plan is to make humanity a perfect communion of love around Jesus Christ, founded on the values of love, mutual service, gift and forgiveness. Jesus already puts this into practice throughout his earthly life. We are therefore very far from the idea of a powerful God in the military sense, as some sometimes imagine. This mystery of God is realised through a 'crucified Messiah', which is completely contrary to human logic, almost a paradox. Paul affirms that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, but not as expected: he was not expected to be crucified; according to our logic, the crucifixion seemed to prove the opposite, because everyone remembered a famous phrase from Deuteronomy: whoever was condemned to death by the law was considered cursed by God (Dt 21:22-23). Yet, this plan of the almighty God is nothing less than Jesus Christ, as Paul says. In witnessing to his faith, Paul has nothing to proclaim but Jesus Christ: He is the centre of human history, of God's plan and of his faith. He wants to know nothing else: "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ." Behind this phrase we can glimpse the difficulties of resisting the pressures, insults and persecutions already present. This crucified Messiah shows us true wisdom, the wisdom of God: gift and forgiveness, rejection of violence... the whole message of the Gospel of the Beatitudes. In the face of this divine wisdom, human wisdom is reasoning, persuasion, strength and power; this wisdom cannot understand the message of the Gospel. In fact, Paul experienced failure in Athens, the centre of philosophy (Acts 17:16-34). Second opposition: the language of the preacher or the art of oratory. Paul makes no claim to eloquence: this already reassures us, if we are not skilled orators. But he goes further: for him, eloquence, oratory, and the ability to persuade are actually obstacles, incompatible with the message of the Gospel. Proclaiming the Gospel does not mean showing off knowledge or imposing arguments. It is interesting to note that the word 'convince' contains the word 'win': perhaps we are in the wrong place if we think we are proclaiming the religion of Love. Faith, like love, cannot be persuaded... Try to convince someone to love you: love cannot be demonstrated, it cannot be reasoned. The same is true of the mystery of God: it can only be penetrated gradually. The mystery of a poor Messiah, a Messiah-Servant, a crucified Messiah, cannot be proclaimed by means of power: that would be the opposite of the mystery itself! It is in poverty that the Gospel is proclaimed: this should give us courage! The poor Messiah can only be proclaimed by poor means; the Messiah-Servant only by servants. Do not worry if you are not a great speaker: our poverty of language is the only one compatible with the Gospel. Paul goes further and even says that our poverty is a necessary condition for preaching: it leaves room for God's action. It is not Paul who convinces the Corinthians, but the Spirit of God, who gives preaching the power of truth, enabling Christ to be discovered. It follows that it is not the power of our reasoning that convinces: faith is not based on human wisdom, but on the power of the Spirit of God. We can only lend him our voice. Obviously, as with Paul, this requires an enormous act of faith: It was in my weakness, trembling and fearful, that I came to you. My language, my preaching had nothing to do with convincing wisdom; but the Spirit and his power were manifested, so that your faith might not be based on human wisdom, but on the power of God. When it seems that the circle of believers is shrinking, when we dream of powerful media, electronic or financial tools, it is good for us to feel that the proclamation of the Gospel is best suited to poor means. But to accept this, we must admit that the Holy Spirit is the best preacher, and that the witness of our poverty is the best preaching.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:13-16)

If a lamp is beautiful, that is better, but it is not the most important thing! What is required first and foremost is that it gives light, because if it does not give good light, nothing can be seen. As for salt, its vocation is to disappear while performing its task: if it is missing, the dish will be less tasty. On closer inspection, salt and light do not exist for their own sake. Jesus says to his disciples: 'You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world': what matters is the earth, the world; salt and light matter only in relation to the earth and the world! By telling his disciples that they are salt and light, Jesus puts them in a missionary situation: you who receive my words become, for this very reason, salt and light for the world: your presence is indispensable. In other words, the Church exists only to evangelise the world. This puts us in our place! The Bible already reminded the people of Israel that they were the chosen people, but at the service of the world; this lesson also applies to us. Returning to salt and light: one may ask what the two elements to which Jesus compares his disciples have in common. We can answer that both are revelatory: salt enhances the flavour of food, light reveals the beauty of people and the world. Food exists before it receives salt; the world and beings exist before they are illuminated. This tells us a lot about the mission that Jesus entrusts to his disciples, to us: no one needs us in order to exist, but we have a specific role to play. Salt of the earth: we are here to reveal to people the flavour of their lives. People do not wait for us to perform acts of love and sharing, which are sometimes wonderful. Evangelising means saying that the Kingdom is among you, in every gesture, in every word of love, and "where there is love, there is God." Light of the world: we are here to enhance the beauty of this world. It is the gaze of love that reveals the true face of people and things. The Holy Spirit has been given to us precisely to be in tune with every gesture or word that comes from Him. But this can only happen with discretion and humility. Too much salt ruins the taste of food; too strong a light crushes what it wants to illuminate. To be salt and light, one must love deeply, truly love. Today's readings repeat this to us in different but consistent ways. Evangelisation is not a conquest; the New Evangelisation is not a reconquest. The proclamation of the Gospel takes place only in the presence of love. Let us remember Paul's warning to the Corinthians in the second reading: only the poor and the humble can preach the Kingdom. This presence of love can be very demanding, as the first reading shows: the connection between Isaiah and the Gospel is very significant. To be the light of the world means to be at the service of our brothers and sisters; Isaiah is concrete: sharing bread or clothing, breaking down all obstacles that impede human freedom. This Sunday's Psalm also says the same thing: 'the righteous man', that is, the one who generously shares his riches, is a light for others. Through his words and gestures of love, others will discover the source of all love: as Jesus says. Seeing the good that the disciples do, people will give glory to the Father in heaven, that is, they will discover that God's plan for humanity is a plan of peace and justice. On the contrary, how can people believe in God's plan of love if we, his ambassadors, do not multiply the gestures of solidarity and justice that society requires? Salt is always in danger of losing its flavour: it is easy to forget the powerful words of the prophet Isaiah, heard in the first reading; and it is no coincidence that the liturgy offers them to us just before the beginning of Lent, a time when we will reflect on what kind of fasting God prefers. One last observation: today's Gospel (salt and light) immediately follows the proclamation of the Beatitudes in Matthew last Sunday. There is therefore a link between the two passages, which can illuminate each other. Perhaps the best way to be salt and light is to live according to the spirit of the Beatitudes, that is, in opposition to the spirit of the world: to accept humility, gentleness, purity, justice; to be peacemakers in all circumstances; and, above all, to accept poverty and lack, with a single goal: 'so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven'. Additions: According to the Second Vatican Council document on the Church, Lumen Gentium, we are not the true light of the world; Jesus Christ is. By telling his disciples that they are light, Jesus reveals that it is God himself who shines through them, because in Scripture, as in the Council, it is always made clear that all light comes from God.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Presentation of Jesus at the Temple [2 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is also a brief commentary on the texts of the liturgy for the feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi (3:1-4)

Malachi's text was written in a context of crisis: there was no longer a Davidic king, the people were subjugated by the Persians, and authority was in the hands of the priests. For this reason, the prophet insists on the covenant with the Levites, recalling its divine origin and denouncing its present corruption. The central announcement is the imminent coming of the Lord to his temple, also called the Angel of the Covenant: not a simple messenger, but God himself who comes to re-establish the Covenant. This coming is both desired and feared, because it is a coming of judgement that purifies: it does not destroy man, but eliminates the evil that is in him. Before this coming, God sends a messenger who prepares the way by calling for conversion. The New Testament will recognise John the Baptist as this precursor and Jesus himself as the Angel of the Covenant announced by Malachi. The message remains relevant today: God enters his temple to renew the Covenant, purify worship and lead his people back to fidelity of heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (23/24, 7, 8, 9, 10)

The poetic expression "Lift up your heads, O gates" (v. 9) is a hyperbole that celebrates the majesty of the "King of Glory," that is, God himself, who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The gates do not simply open: they are lifted up, as if the building itself had to become larger to accommodate the divine presence. The psalm refers to the solemn dedication of the first Temple by Solomon (around 950 BC), when the Ark of the Covenant was carried in procession to the Holy City, accompanied by singing, music and sacrifices. The Ark, placed in the Holy of Holies under the wings of the cherubim, represented the invisible throne of God in the midst of his people. The cherubim, far from the imagery of little angels, were majestic and symbolic figures, a sign of divine sovereignty. The psalm seems to be structured as a liturgical dialogue between two choirs: one invites the gates to open, the other proclaims the identity of the king of glory as the strong and victorious Lord. The warrior titles remind us that God accompanied Israel in its struggles for freedom and survival: the Ark was the sign of his presence in the people's battles. Even after the disappearance of the Ark, especially after the Babylonian Exile, this psalm continued to be sung in the Temple. It was precisely the absence of the Ark that increased its spiritual value: Israel learned that God's presence is not tied to an object, however sacred and laden with memory. Over the centuries, the psalm took on a messianic meaning: the invocation 'let the King of glory enter' became an expression of the expectation of the Messiah, the definitive king who would defeat evil and inaugurate a renewed humanity. The 'Lord of hosts' came to be understood progressively as the God of the universe, no longer just the God of Israel but the Lord of all humanity. This is why the Christian liturgy sings this psalm on the feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple: it is a profession of faith that recognises in that child the true king of glory, God himself who enters his Temple and comes to meet his people.

*Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (2:14-18)

The Letter to the Hebrews was written in a climate of controversy: Christians of Jewish origin were accused of following a Messiah who could not be a priest according to the Law. The author responds by showing that Jesus fulfils the priesthood in a new and definitive way. Although he does not belong to the tribe of Levi, Jesus is a priest according to the order of Melchizedek, that is, in a more ancient and universal form. He does not reproduce the priesthood of the Old Testament, but brings it to fulfilment, realising its profound purpose. Jesus is a true priest because: he is fully in solidarity with humanity, sharing its weakness, suffering and death; he is in full communion with God, as his resurrection demonstrates; he re-establishes the Covenant, freeing humanity from fear and the slavery of death. Salvation is offered to all, but it concerns in particular the 'children of Abraham', that is, those who live in faith as trust. The Covenant is a free gift from God, but it requires a free response: to accept or reject it remains the responsibility of man.

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (2:22-40)

  The account of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple is constructed with great care and highlights two fundamental elements: the Law and the Spirit. In the first verses, Luke repeatedly emphasises the Law of Israel, not as a simple set of prescriptions, but as an expression of the faith and expectation of the people. Jesus' life begins within the faith of Israel: Mary and Joseph devoutly perform the prescribed gestures, placing the child within the history and hope of their people. Luke's first message is clear: the salvation of humanity is born within the Law of Israel. It is in this context that the Word of God became incarnate and that God's plan of love for humanity took shape. Immediately afterwards, Simeon enters the scene, guided by the Holy Spirit, who is also mentioned several times. It is the Spirit who reveals the identity of the child to him: Jesus is the Saviour prepared by God before all peoples. Simeon's words summarise the entire Old Testament as a long preparation for the fulfilment of salvation, which concerns not only Israel but all humanity. Israel is the 'glory' because it has been chosen as the instrument of universal salvation. The event takes place in the Temple of Jerusalem, a decisive place for Luke: here Malachi's prophecy about the Lord's sudden entry into his Temple is fulfilled. Jesus is recognised as the Angel of the Covenant, the Lord himself who comes to visit his people. The images of light and glory used by Simeon fit perfectly into this perspective. The story also recalls the Psalm of the 'king of glory': the long-awaited royal Messiah enters the Temple, not with outward power, but in the poverty of a newborn baby. Nevertheless, the scene is solemn and full of glory, because in that child is present all the expectation of Israel, represented by Simeon and Anna, figures of faithful hope. Simeon's canticle affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and the glory of God: with him, divine glory enters the Sanctuary. This means that Jesus not only brings the glory of God, but is the glory of God, is God himself present among his people. With his coming, the time of the Law reaches its fulfilment: the Angel of the Covenant has entered the Temple to give the Spirit, enlighten the nations and inaugurate the new time of universal salvation.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [1 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Rereading and meditating on the Beatitudes in Matthew's Gospel is always an invitation to rediscover the heart of the Gospel faith and to have the courage to live it faithfully.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Zephaniah (2:3; 3:12-13)

The Book of Zephaniah is striking for its sharp contrasts: on the one hand, there are terrible threats against Jerusalem, with the prophet appearing very angry; on the other hand, there are encouragements and promises of a happy future, always directed at the city. The question is: to whom are the threats addressed and to whom the encouragement? Historically, we are in the 7th century BC, in the kingdom of Judah, the southern kingdom. The young king Josiah ascends the throne at the age of eight, after the assassination of his father, in very turbulent times. The Assyrian empire, with its capital at Nineveh, is expanding, and local kings often prefer to surrender to avoid destruction: Jerusalem becomes a vassal of Nineveh. The prophets, however, firmly support the freedom of the chosen people: asking for an alliance with an earthly king means not trusting in the King of heaven. Accepting Assyrian protection was not only a political act, but also entailed the cultural and religious influence of the ruler, with the risk of idolatry and the loss of Israel's mission. Zephaniah denounced all this and prophesied punishment: 'I will raise my hand against Judah and against all the inhabitants of Jerusalem... on the day of the Lord's wrath' (Zephaniah 1:4-6), a text reminiscent of the famous Dies Irae. Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land. Alongside the threats, Zephaniah addresses a message of comfort to the "humble of the land" (in Hebrew anawim, the bowed down), who are law-abiding and righteous, and therefore protected from the Day of the Lord's wrath: God himself is with them. It is the day when creation will be renewed and evil destroyed. The message is not for others, but for each one of us: we are all called to conversion, to become "the humble of the land," the "Remnant of Israel" that the previous prophets had announced. God, who is faithful, will always save at least a small group that has remained faithful. It will be this small remnant, poor and humble, that will carry on the mission of the chosen people: to reveal God's plan to the world. Being humble means recognising one's own limitations (humus) and trusting totally in God. Thus, God's judgement is not against people, but against the evil that corrupts. The small faithful remnant will be the leaven in the world, preserving the true identity of the people and the divine mission. God's wrath strikes only evil, never the innocent. Zephaniah also criticises the adoption of Assyrian customs, such as foreign clothing (Zeph 1:8): it was not just fashion, but a sign of imitation of the pagans, a risk of losing identity and faith.

*Responsorial Psalm (145/146)

Here we have three verses from the Psalm as an inventory of the beneficiaries of God's mercy: the oppressed, the hungry, the chained, the blind, the afflicted, the strangers, the widows and the orphans—all those whom men ignore or despise. The Israelites know these situations because they have experienced them: oppression in Egypt, then in Babylon. The Psalm was written after the return from the Babylonian exile, perhaps for the dedication of the rebuilt Temple. Liberation from evil and oppression is perceived as proof of God's faithfulness to the covenant: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed, the Lord frees those in chains." God also provides for material needs: during the Exodus, he fed the people with manna and quails. Gradually, God reveals himself to the blind, lifts up the afflicted and guides the people towards justice: 'God loves the righteous'. The Psalm is therefore a song of gratitude: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed / gives bread to the hungry / frees those in chains / opens the eyes of the blind / lifts up those who are afflicted / loves the righteous / protects the stranger / supports widows and orphans. The Lord is your God forever." The insistence on the name Lord (7 times) recalls the sacred Tetragrammaton YHVH, revealed to Moses at the burning bush, symbol of God's constant and liberating presence. "The Lord is your God forever," the final phrase recalls the Covenant: "You shall be my people, and I will be your God." The Psalm looks to the future, strengthening the hope of the people. The name of God Ehiè asher ehiè (I am who I am / I will be who I will be) emphasises his eternal presence. Repeating this Psalm serves to recognise God's work and to guide conduct: if God has acted in this way towards Israel, the people must behave in the same way towards others, especially the excluded. The Law of Israel provided rules to protect widows, orphans, and foreigners, so that the people would be free and respectful of the freedom of others. The prophets judged fidelity to the Covenant mainly on the basis of attitude towards the poor and oppressed: the fight against idolatry, the promotion of justice and mercy, as in Hos 6:6 (I desire mercy, not sacrifice) and Mic 6:8 (Act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with God). Sirach also reminds us: 'The tears of the widow flow down the face of God' (Si 35:18), emphasising that those who are close to God must feel compassion for those who suffer.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (1:26-31).

It would seem to be the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector: the world is 'turned upside down'. Those who appear wise in the eyes of men, as Paul points out, are not considered worthy before God. This does not mean that Paul despises wisdom: since the time of King Solomon, it has been a virtue sought after in prayer, and Isaiah presents it as a gift of the Spirit of God: 'The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and discernment...' The Bible distinguishes between two types of wisdom: the wisdom of men and the wisdom of God. What seems reasonable in the eyes of men may be far from God's plan, and what is wise in the eyes of God may appear foolish to men. Our logic is human, God's is the logic of love: the folly of divine love, as Paul says, surpasses all human reasoning. This is why the life and death of Christ may seem scandalous. Isaiah says it clearly: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8). This distance between human and divine thought is such that Jesus goes so far as to rebuke Peter: "Get behind me, Satan! You are not thinking according to God, but according to men" (Mt 16:23). God is the "All-Other": the hierarchy of human values is overturned before him. Often in the history of the Covenant, God chooses the least: think of David, the youngest of Jesse's sons, or the people of Israel, "the least of all" (Deut 7:7; Deut 9:6). God's choices are gratuitous, independent of human merit. True wisdom, divine wisdom, is a gift from We cannot understand God with our own strength: everything we know about Him is revealed to us by Him. Paul reminds the Corinthians that all knowledge of God is a gift: "In him you have received every spiritual blessing... you are not lacking in any spiritual gift" (1 Cor 1:4-7). The gift of knowledge of God is not a reason for pride, but for gratitude. As Jeremiah says: "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom... but of having the intelligence to know me, the Lord" (Jer 9:22-23). Paul applies these principles to the Corinthians: in the eyes of the world, they were neither wise, nor powerful, nor noble. Yet God calls them, creating his Church out of their poverty and weakness. Their 'nobility' is Baptism. Corinth becomes an example of God's surprising initiative, recreating the world according to his logic, inviting men not to boast before God, but to give him glory for his love.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:1-12a)

 I pause to reflect on the beatitude that may seem most difficult: 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted' (Mt 5:4). It is not a question of rejoicing in mourning itself, nor of considering suffering as good fortune. Jesus himself devoted much of his life to comforting, healing and encouraging people: Matthew reminds us that 'Jesus proclaimed the Good News of the Kingdom and healed every disease and infirmity among the people' (Mt 4:23). The tears Jesus speaks of are, rather, tears of repentance and tears of compassion. Think of St Peter, who wept bitterly after his denial, finding consolation in God's mercy. Or remember the vision of the prophet Ezekiel: on the last day, God "will mark with a cross on the forehead those who groan and lament over the abominations that are committed" (Ezekiel 9:4). These words of Jesus were addressed to his Jewish contemporaries, who were accustomed to the preaching of the prophets. For us, understanding them means rereading the Old Testament. As the prophet Zephaniah invites us: 'Seek the Lord, all you humble of the earth' (Zeph 2:3). And the psalm sings: “I have asked one thing of the Lord: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life” (Ps 145/146:5). These are the true “poor in spirit,” those who entrust themselves completely to God, like the tax collector in the parable: aware of their sins, they open themselves to the Lord’s salvation. Jesus assures us that those who seek God with all their heart will be heard: "Seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you" (Mt 7:7). And the prophets call those whose hearts are turned solely to God "pure". The Beatitudes, therefore, are Good News: it is not power, knowledge or wealth that leads us to the Kingdom, but gentleness, mercy and justice. As Jesus says to his disciples: " I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” (Lk 10:3). Each beatitude points to a path towards the Kingdom: each “Blessed” is an invitation, an encouragement: it is as if it were saying, “take courage, you are on the right path”. Our weaknesses become fertile ground for God’s presence: poverty of heart, tears, hunger for justice, persecution. Paul reminds us: “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1 Cor 1:31). Finally, let us remember that Jesus is the perfect model: poor in heart, gentle, merciful, compassionate, just and persecuted, always grateful to the Father. His life teaches us to look at ourselves and others through the eyes of God, and to discover the Kingdom where we least expect it.

St Augustine writes in his commentary on this beatitude: "Blessed, says the Lord, are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. He does not refer to bodily sadness, but to the sorrow of the heart for sins and the desire to convert to God" (Enarrationes in Psalmos, 30:5).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Domestic side, not domestications

(Mk 6:1-6)

Where Faith is lacking, only small changes take place, not the staggering wonders of the alternative presence of God’s Kingdom (v.5).

We do not realize that Lord may come from humble, dishonourable origins, as ours could be  - without great dynastic lineages.

But Faith in Christ bids farewell to the idea prevalent in top-down cultures and religions, all of which are ill-suited to deal with the normalcy of life that flows.

Jesus avoids rigid models or great appearance patterns. He gives himself with simplicity to his villagers and aims at the formation of authentic believers.

Their Trust must be placed only in the Kingdom of God - a dimension that really breaks the balance, because it’s introduced into daytime existence, and ferments it from invisible roots.

As Father’s Envoy, he would like all the people to be builders and banners of other dreams - but in his native village he feels like he is blocked by those who are unable to ‘decipher the dimension of the divine in the human’.

He must face the dull incomprehension of the centers of power, but sometimes also defaults and very hopes - quiet or divisive - of the popular reality that frequents places of worship.

The villagers expected the usual now addicted blessings, or perhaps a charismatic leader in the fight against the Romans - and here they gladly used to leverage the blaze of religious identity, to inflame souls.

They would have accepted a belligerent captain, who reflected archaic beliefs - instead they find themselves disappointed in the inapparent reality before their eyes.

They do not know how to discover the God’s plot in the history of the least.

Conversely, there are numerous divine signs inscribed in what is in a minor way manifested, wich can help us discover the not purely earthly dimension of things, relationships, presences.

Many people misunderstand the spirit of strength that Faith transmits to us: it breaks the balance because it does not offer guarantees already imagined - but it’s basically domestic and entirely natural.

Each Seed has its own particular destiny and development.

So why is the boy they have met since birth so different?

For the fact that there is no equation between what is thought in a conformist way, and the Lord. Not even giving emphasis to resolutions.

Both great expectations and proximity can be an obstacle to a daily knowledge of what of extraordinary is hidden behind the ordinary dimension of events and people.

Even many confreres or collaborators of Saints have not been able to grasp the exceptionality of a common life lived in fidelity and dedication to their own Call by Name.

All the more real the less flashy.

Misunderstanding and village jealousy of those who live next door [and chase a god of their own, disfigured] is a source of bitterness, but it does not stop us.

Experience of rejection pushes to change direction (v.6b).

The soul lives under the sign of Uniqueness that renounces prejudice, quiet life, simple approval, easy success.

And closed doors can be an added value! They open us to the journey of the soul in the Spirit, to the eccentric Announcement, to an astounding Mission.

In this way, like Jesus, we too willingly refuse to affix ready-made seals to the spirit of mediocrity that does not annoy anyone.

[Wednesday 4th wk. in O.T.  February 4, 2026]

Domestic side, not domestications

(Mk 6:1-6)

Where Faith is lacking, only small changes occur, not the astounding wonders of the alternative presence of the Kingdom of God:

"And he could do no mighty work there, except that having laid hands on a few sick ones, he healed" (v.5).

We do not realise that the Lord could come from humble, dishonourable beginnings, as ours might be - devoid of great dynastic ties, or violent class jumps.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (vi):

"The spirit of the valley does not die [...] it is used, but it does not tire". Master Wang Pi comments:

'The spirit of the valley is the non-valley at the centre of the valley. It has no form or shadow, nothing contrasts and nothing rejects, it remains at the bottom without moving, it keeps quiet without fading. The valley is completed by it, yet its form cannot be seen: this is the most perfect model'.

Like the Wisdom codes of nature, Faith in Christ bids farewell to the idea prevalent in institutional, representative and top-down cultures and religions.

All ill-disposed, in their great knowledge, to deal with the normality of flowing life.

Jesus avoids rigid or grandiose models. He gives himself with simplicity to his people and aims at the formation of authentic believers.

Their trust must be placed solely in the Kingdom of God - a dimension that truly breaks the balance, because it enters into day-to-day existence and ferments it from invisible roots.

As an envoy of the Father, he would like all the people to be builders and bishops of other dreams - but in his home village he feels as if blocked by those who are incapable of deciphering the dimension of the divine in the human.

He has to face the obtuse incomprehension of the centres of power, but also the very failures and hopes - quiet or divisive - of the popular reality that frequents the places of worship.

The villagers expected the usual blessings (by now addicted) or perhaps a charismatic leader to fight against the Romans - and here they would gladly use the flames of religious identity to inflame their spirits.

They would have accepted a warlike captain, reflecting archaic beliefs - instead they find themselves disappointed with the inapparent reality before their eyes.

They do not know how to discover God's plot in the history of the least.

Conversely, there are many divine signs inscribed in what is in a minor way manifested: warnings that can help us discover the not purely earthly dimension of things, relationships, presences, and so on.

Many misunderstand the spirit of strength that Faith transmits to us.

It breaks balances because it does not offer guarantees that have already been imagined - but it is at bottom domestic and all natural [each Seed has its own particular destiny and development].

How then is the boy they have known from birth so different?

Because there is no equation between what one thinks conformistically, and the Lord. Not even by emphasising intentions.

Both high expectations and proximity can be an obstacle to a daily knowledge of what is extraordinary behind the ordinary dimension of events and people.

Even many brothers or collaborators of Saints have failed to grasp the exceptionality of a common life lived in fidelity and dedication to their Calling by Name. All the more real as it is less conspicuous.

The incomprehension and village jealousy of those who live next door and chase after a god of their own - disfigured - is a source of bitterness; but it does not stop us.

The experience of rejection prompts a change of direction (v.6b).

The soul lives under the sign of Oneness that renounces preconception, the quiet life, simple approval, easy success.

And closed doors can be an added value! They open us up to the soul's journey in the Spirit, to the eccentric Announcement, to an astounding Mission.

Unfortunately, we register another kind of spirit of the 'valley' - of an entirely negative sign, which in the work of evangelisation and community animation is identified with the pastoral of consent [I will give you what you want].

The astute coordinator manages relations with the faithful, the masses and the institutions with extreme shrewdness, as well as expectations - concrete, immediate - of approval and individual or circle advantage.

At times, some leaders (even church leaders) appear to be nothing more than skilful storytellers: they do not fight the dehumanising structures, nor the powerful on the ground. On the contrary, they try to make allies of them, to win easily.

Even in the time of global crisis, the conviction persists that educational, cultural and 'religious' structures can only go on with the external support of power hierarchies, and the established order. Or with the search for more 'signs' and as many prodigies. 

Unfortunately, such a downward, outward-looking attitude - out of weariness, which is widespread - does not equate to the enhancement of the most varied and intimate Gifts of God in people, nor to the promotion of the Kingdom.

It is obvious then that those who frequent the palace do not like incendiaries: those who hold titles and a glorious role remain impervious to the work of the Spirit who makes all things new.

[Every opportunist unfortunately remains tied to the chains of command, to the old tactical balances that have guaranteed him career, position, lustre, visibility, easy security on the side].

Perhaps the worst aspect of this downward and normal common denominator game is the cheap identification between order guaranteed by the Gospel and current equilibrium.

An illusion of external harmony between the Beatitudes proclaimed by the Lord and opportunities for a quiet life, or gain, and social recognition.

Thus the principles experienced first-hand by the Master are subverted by some followers, in an opaque strategy that ends up distorting the Glad Tidings in favour of every lost one.

And each shaky yet unsatisfied person spontaneously tends to adapt to the small certainties they find, offered by the rhetoric of even great narratives.

Even today, on the other hand, the Word of God sparks off the easy appeal of such dynamics and structures of authentic 'sin': it threatens them in no uncertain terms.

Indeed, they seize souls, make them conformist, indifferent to injustice, fearful of freedom - and tend to take even the God of the Exodus hostage.

The Father, however, continues to raise up eccentric prophets: they make us all more capable of perceiving the genius of the age. As well as the personal talents deployed - even amidst the irritated threats of the 'countrymen' caught up in levelling marketing.

Advertisers who risk being left without protection or lineage, of course.

But who refuse to affix ready-made seals to the spirit of mediocrity that annoys no one.

To internalise and live the Word, let us ask ourselves:

What has changed in your journey since you began to live more intensely in adherence to Christ? How has your environment reacted?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I would like to reflect briefly on this […] Gospel passage. It is taken from the text that has the famous saying “Nemo propheta in patria”. In other words no prophet is properly accepted among his own people who watched him grow up (cf. Mk 6:4). Indeed after Jesus, when he was about 30 years old, had left Nazareth and had already been travelling about preaching and working miracles of healing elsewhere, he once returned to his birthplace and started teaching in the synagogue. His fellow citizens “were astonished” by his wisdom, and knowing him as “the son of Mary”, as the carpenter who had lived in their midst, instead of welcoming him with faith were shocked and took offence (cf. Mk 6:2-3). This reaction is understandable because familiarity at the human level makes it difficult to go beyond this in order to be open to the divine dimension. That this son of a carpenter was the Son of God was hard for them to believe. Jesus actually takes as an example the experience of the prophets of Israel, who in their own homeland were an object of contempt, and identifies himself with them. Due to this spiritual closure Jesus “could do no mighty work there [Nazareth], except that he laid his hands upon a few sick people and healed them” (Mk 6:5). In fact Christ’s miracles are not a display of power but signs of the love of God that is brought into being wherever it encounters reciprocated human faith. Origen writes: “as in the case of material things there exists in some things a natural attraction towards some other thing, as in the magnet for iron... so there is an attraction in such faith towards the divine power” (Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, 10, 19).

It would therefore seem that Jesus—as is said—is making sense of the negative welcome he received in Nazareth. Instead, at the end of the account, we find a remark that says precisely the opposite. The Evangelist writes that Jesus “marvelled because of their unbelief” (Mk 6:6). The astonishment of Jesus’ fellow townspeople is matched by his own surprise. In a certain sense he too is shocked! Although he knows that no prophet is well accepted in his homeland, the closed heart of his people was nevertheless obscure and impenetrable to him: how could they fail to recognize the light of the Truth? Why did they not open themselves to the goodness of God who deigned to share in our humanity? Effectively Jesus of Nazareth the man is the transparency of God, in him God dwells fully. And while we are constantly seeking other signs, other miracles, we do not realize that he is the true Sign, God made flesh, he is the greatest miracle in the world: the whole of God’s love contained in a human heart, in a man’s face.

The One who fully understood this reality was the Virgin Mary, who is blessed because she believed (cf. Lk 1:45). Mary was not shocked by her Son: her wonder for him was full of faith, full of love and joy, in seeing him so human and at the same time so divine. Let us therefore learn from her, our Mother in faith, to recognize in the humanity of Christ the perfect revelation of God.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 8 July 2012]

1. Reconnecting to the previous catechesis, we can grasp among the biblical data already referred to the prophetic aspect of the action exercised by the spirit of God on the leaders of the people, on kings, and on the Messiah. This aspect requires further reflection, because prophethood is the thread along which the history of Israel runs, dominated by the pre-eminent figure of Moses, the most exalted "prophet", "with whom the Lord spoke face to face" (Deut 34:10). Down the centuries, the Israelites became increasingly familiar with the binomial 'the Law and the Prophets', as an expressive synthesis of the spiritual heritage entrusted by God to his people. And it is through his spirit that God speaks and acts in the fathers, and from generation to generation prepares the new times.

2. Undoubtedly the prophetic phenomenon, which is observed historically, is linked to the word. The prophet is a man who speaks on behalf of God, he delivers to those who hear or read him what God wants to make known about the present and the future. The spirit of God animates the word and makes it vital. It communicates to the prophet and his word a certain divine pathos, so that it becomes vibrant, sometimes passionate and suffering, always dynamic.

Not infrequently, the Bible describes significant episodes in which the spirit of God rests on someone, and he immediately utters a prophetic oracle. Such is the case with Balaam: "The spirit of God was upon him. Then "he uttered his poem and said: . An oracle of one who hears the words of God and knows the knowledge of the Most High, of one who sees the vision of the Almighty, and falls and the veil is removed from his eyes . . ." (Numbers 24: 2. 3-4). It is the famous "prophecy", which even though it refers, in the immediate instance, to Saul and David, in the fight against the Amalekites, evokes at the same time the future Messiah: "I see him, but not now, I contemplate him, but not from near: a star rises from Jacob, and a sceptre rises from Israel . . ." (1 Sam 15:8; 30:1 ff).

3. Another aspect of the prophetic spirit at the service of the word is that it can be communicated and almost 'subdivided' according to the needs of the people, as in the case of Moses who was concerned about the number of Israelites to be led and governed, who by now numbered '600,000 adults'. The Lord commanded him to choose and assemble "70 men from among the elders of Israel, known to you as elders of the people and as their scribes". Having done this, the Lord "took the spirit that was upon him and infused it upon the 70 elders: when the spirit had come upon them, they prophesied . . ." (cf. Nm 24:16-25).

In the succession of Elisha to Elijah, the former would even like to receive "two thirds of the spirit" of the great prophet, a kind of double portion of the inheritance that fell to the eldest son, in order to be thus recognised as his principal spiritual heir among the multitude of prophets and "sons of the prophets", grouped together in guilds. But the spirit is not transmitted from prophet to prophet as an earthly inheritance: it is God who grants it. In fact, this is how it happens, and the "sons of the prophets" note it: "The spirit of Elijah rested on Elisha" (2 Sam 2:15).

4. In Israel's contacts with the neighbouring peoples there was no lack of manifestations of false prophethood, which led to the formation of groups of exalted ones, who replaced the spirit coming from God with music and gesticulations and even adhered to the cult of Baal. Elijah led a determined battle against these prophets, remaining alone in his greatness. Elisha, for his part, had more relations with certain groups, who seemed to have come to their senses.

Genuine biblical tradition defends and vindicates the true idea of the prophet as a man of the word of God, instituted by God, on a par with and following Moses: "I will raise up to them a prophet like you from among their brethren, and I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak what I command him" (Deut 18:18). This promise is accompanied by a warning against the abuse of prophethood: "The prophet who shall presume to speak in my name a thing that I have not commanded him to say, or who shall speak in the name of other gods, that prophet shall die. If you think: How shall we acknowledge the word that the Lord has not spoken? When the prophet will speak in the name of the Lord and it will not happen and it will not be fulfilled, that word has not been spoken by the Lord" (Deut 18:20-22).

Another aspect of this criterion of judgement is fidelity to the doctrine delivered to Israel by God, in resistance to the seductions of idolatry. This explains the hostility against false prophets. The task of the prophet, as a man of God's word, is to fight the 'spirit of lies' that is on the lips of false prophets, to protect the people from their influence. It is a mission received from God, as Ezekiel proclaims (Eze 13:2-3): "Again this word of the Lord was spoken to me: Son of man, prophesy against the prophets of Israel, and say to those who prophesy according to their own desires: Woe to the foolish prophets, who follow their own spirit without having had visions".

5. A man of the word, the prophet must also be a 'man of the spirit', as Hosea already calls him: he must have the spirit of God, and not just his own spirit, if he is to speak for God.

The concept is developed above all by Ezekiel, which gives a glimpse of the realisation that has now taken place concerning the profound reality of prophethood. Speaking in the name of God requires, in the prophet, the presence of God's spirit. This presence manifests itself in a contact that Ezekiel calls 'vision'. In those who benefit from it, the action of God's spirit guarantees the truth of the spoken word. We find here a new clue to the link between word and spirit, which linguistically and conceptually prepares for the link that at a higher level, in the New Testament, is placed between the Word and the Holy Spirit.

Ezekiel is aware of being personally animated by the spirit: "A spirit entered into me," he writes, "made me stand up and I listened to him who spoke to me. The spirit enters into the person of the prophet. It makes him stand up: thus it makes him a witness to the divine word. It lifts him up and sets him in motion: 'A spirit lifted me up . . . and carried me away'. Thus the dynamism of the spirit is manifested. Ezekiel, moreover, specifies that he is speaking of the "Spirit of the Lord" (Ez 2:2; 3:12-14; 11:5).

6. The dynamic aspect of the prophetic action of the divine Spirit stands out strongly in the prophecies of Haggai and Zechariah, who, after their return from exile, vigorously urged the repatriated Jews to set to work to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem. The result of Haggai's first prophecy was that "the Lord stirred up the spirit of Zerubbabel . . . governor of Judea and Joshua . . . high priest and all the rest of the people and they moved and undertook the work for the cause of the Lord of hosts'. In a second oracle, the prophet Haggai again intervened and promised the powerful help of the Spirit of the Lord: "Courage, Zerubbabel . . . Courage, Joshua . . . Courage, all the people of the land, saith the Lord, and to work . . . my spirit will be with you, fear not" (Hag 2:4-5). And similarly the prophet Zechariah proclaimed: 'This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts' (Zech 4:6).

In the times most immediately preceding the birth of Jesus, there were no more prophets in Israel and it was not known how long this situation would last. One of the last prophets, Joel, had, however, announced a universal outpouring of the Spirit of God that was to occur "before the day of the Lord, great and terrible," and was to be manifested by an extraordinary spreading of the gift of prophecy. The Lord had proclaimed through him: "I will pour out my spirit upon every human being, and your sons and your daughters shall become prophets; your elders shall have revelatory dreams; your young men shall have visions" (Gl 3:4, 1).

Thus the wish expressed many centuries earlier by Moses was finally to be fulfilled: "Let them all be prophets among the Lord's people, and may the Lord give them his spirit" (Numbers 11:29). Prophetic inspiration would have reached even "the slaves and slave girls", overcoming any distinction of cultural levels or social conditions. Then salvation would be offered to all: "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved" (Gl 3:5).

As we have seen in a previous catechesis, this prophecy of Joel found its fulfilment on the day of Pentecost, so that the Apostle Peter, addressing the astonished crowd, was able to declare: "It is coming to pass that which the prophet Joel foretold"; and he recited the prophet's oracle, explaining that Jesus "lifted up to the right hand of God had received from the Father the promised Holy Spirit and had poured out" him abundantly. From that day on, the prophetic action of the Holy Spirit has continuously manifested itself in the Church to give her light and comfort.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 14 February 1990]

The Gospel we read in the liturgy [...] (Mk 6:1-6) tells us about the disbelief of Jesus’s fellow villagers. After preaching in other villages in Galilee, Jesus returned to Nazareth where he had grown up with Mary and Joseph; and, one sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue. Many who were listening asked themselves: “Where does he get all this wisdom? But, isn’t he the son of the carpenter and Mary, that is, of our neighbours that we know so well?” (cf. vv. 1-3). Confronted with this reaction, Jesus confirms the truth that had even become a part of popular wisdom: “A prophet is not without honour, except in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house” (v. 4). We say this many times…

Let us reflect on the attitude of Jesus’s fellow villagers. We could say they knew Jesus, but they did not recognise him. There is a difference between knowing and recognizing. In essence, this difference makes us understand that we can know various things about a person, form an idea, rely on what others say about that person, we might perhaps meet that person every now and then in the neighbourhood; but all that is not enough. This is a knowledge, I would say ordinary, superficial, that does not recognise the uniqueness of the person. We all run this risk: we think we know so much about a person, even worse, we use labels and close the person within our own prejudices. Jesus’s fellow villagers knew him for thirty years in the same way and they thought they knew everything! “But isn’t this the boy we saw growing up, the son of the carpenter and Mary? Where do these things come from?”. The distrust…in reality, they never realised who Jesus truly was. They remained at the exterior level and refused what was new about Jesus.

And here, we enter into the true crux of the problem: when we allow the convenience of habit and the dictatorship of prejudice to have the upper hand, it is difficult to open ourselves to what is new and allow ourselves to be amazed. We control: through attitudes, through prejudices… It often happens in life that we seek from our experiences and even from people only what conforms to our own ideas and ways of thinking so as never to have to make an effort to change. And this can even happen with God, and even to us believers, to us who think we know Jesus, that we already know so much about Him and that it is enough to repeat the same things as always. And this is not enough with God. But without openness to what is new and, above all – listen well – openness to God’s surprises, without amazement, faith becomes a tiring litany that slowly dies out and becomes a habit, a social habit.

I said a word: amazement. What is amazement? Amazement happens when we meet God: “I met the Lord”. But we read in the Gospel: many times the people who encountered Jesus and recognised him felt amazed. And we, by encountering God, must follow this path: to feel amazement. It is like the guarantee certificate that the encounter is true and not habitual.

In the end, why didn’t Jesus’s fellow villagers recognise and believe in Him? But why? What is the reason? In a few words, we can say that they did not accept the scandal of the Incarnation. They did not know this mystery of the Incarnation, but they did not accept the mystery: they did not know it. They did not know the reason and they thought it was scandalous that the immensity of God should be revealed in the smallness of our flesh, that the Son of God should be the son of a carpenter, that the divine should be hidden in the human, that God should inhabit a face, the words, the gestures of a simple man. This is the scandal: the incarnation of God, his concreteness, his ‘daily life’. And God became concrete in a man, Jesus of Nazareth, he became a companion on the way, he made himself one of us. “You are one of us”, we can say to Jesus. What a beautiful prayer! It is because one of us understands us, accompanies us, forgives us, loves us so much. In reality, an abstract, distant god is more comfortable, one that doesn’t get himself involved in situations and who accepts a faith that is far from life, from problems, from society. Or we would even like to believe in a ‘special effects’ god who does only exceptional things and always provokes strong emotions. Instead, brothers and sisters, God incarnated Himself: God is humble, God is tender, God is hidden, he draws near to us, living the normality of our daily life.

And then, the same thing happens to us like Jesus’s fellow villagers, we risk that when he passes by, we will not recognize him. I repeat that beautiful phrase from Saint Augustine: “I am afraid of God, of the Lord, when he passes by”. But, Augustine, why are you afraid? “I am afraid of not recognising him. I am afraid that when the Lord passes by: Timeo Dominum transeuntem. We do not recognize him, we are scandalised by Him, we think with our hearts about this reality.

Now, in prayer, let us ask the Madonna, who welcomed the mystery of God in her daily life in Nazareth, for eyes and hearts free of prejudices and to have eyes open to be amazed: “Lord that we might meet you!”, and when we encounter the Lord there is this amazement. We meet him in the normal: eyes open to God’s surprises, at His humble and hidden presence in daily life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 4 July 2021]

Faith and Healing, or exclusion

(Mk 5:21-43)

In Rome, at Mk’s time, the situation of confusion generated by the civil war seemed likely to become lethal for the survival of the persecuted young communities, wich some mocked (v.40).

Under the obsessive diseducation of spiritual leaders, particularly on the sense of sin and unworthiness - in addition, the religious terror of demons - everything seemed to sow panic.

Fears absorbed much of the emotional resources - worsening people's situation (v.26).

For this reason the woman moves in taking the Master by surprise, «from behind» (v.27) - indeed, by stealth! But hers was not sacrilege at all.

The transgression of the “defiled” - who even follow their conscience [at that time, a double shame] is grasped by the Lord as an expression of living Faith (v.34)!

«Daughter»: Christ welcomes every "woman" into his Church, and in her He values ​​all those who are kept at a safe distance.

Nor does expect her to go to the Temple to offer the sacrifice prescribed by the Law.

He only says: «Your Faith has saved you. Go in Peace».

That is to say: Go ahead towards the joy of a full life, without the usual judgment of inadequacy on the back.

In fact, even the leader of ancient devotion can only generate sons [that is, a whole spiritual people] already dead from the start (v.35).

But from the moment he turns to the authentic Master, he begins to make transition from elementary religiosity to Faith (v.36).

In this way, the premature end regenerates life, youth, happiness.

The message is not only for the traditional synagogue, but also for the greatest exponents of the nascent Church: the proud Peter, James and John (v.37).

Precisely because they are authoritarian, hasty and stubborn - all other community worshippers are well advised to keep their distance from an ambit that cries out in despair, because it still imagines physical death as an impassable fence (v.38).

And here a new religious transgression arises: the book of Leviticus forbade touching a dead body (v.41).

With this incredible gesture, Christ reaffirms: whoever observes the law that doesn’t humanize, himself produces death and goes to meet death.

The concrete good of the real person is absolute value. God doesn’t look at merits, but at needs.

And personal Faith is the divine Gold that realizes the inner vision.

Indestructible Relationship Quality: such Action-compassion goes beyond ‘death’ that spoils everything.

Precisely, attracting and fulfilling what the same gesture believes (vv. 23.28.34.36.39).

The term «immortality» doesn’t exist in Hebrew Bible.

Israel's slowness in believing in life without end is illuminating: it makes us understand that before believing in the future world, it’s necessary to value and love existence in this world.

When we will be passionate about it in the same way as the Father, the silence of a space of our own, unrepeatable, fragrant, blooming from a genuine Harmony will arise.

Then the Lord will transform us, He will communicate Himself to us (v.43), He will make us similar to Him and able to withstand challenges.

Finally able to untie knots of death and help the suspensions of others.

[Tuesday 4th wk. in O.T.  February 3, 2026]