God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! For the feast of the Ascension, the first reading and the psalm are common to years A, B, C, while the second reading and the gospel change 

*First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:1-11)

These first verses of the Acts of the Apostles recall the conclusion of Luke's gospel, also addressed to a certain Theophilus, and it is interesting to note that one begins where the other ends, that is, with the account of Jesus' Ascension, even though the two narratives do not match perfectly as we can see when reading the texts of Year C. The gospel narrates the mission and preaching of Jesus, the Acts of the Apostles focuses on the missionary activity of the apostles, hence the title. Luke's gospel begins and ends in Jerusalem, the heart of the Jewish world and of the First Covenant; Acts begins in Jerusalem, because the New Covenant continues the First, but ends in Rome, the crossroads of all the world's roads, and the New Covenant goes beyond the borders of Israel. For Luke it is clear that this expansion is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, the inspirer of the apostles since Pentecost, so much so that Acts is often called 'the gospel of the Spirit'. Jesus, after his baptism, prepared himself for his mission with forty days of desert, so he prepares the Church for this new missionary phase by appearing to the apostles for forty days and "speaking of the things concerning the kingdom of God". In fact, "while he was at table with them", thus during a last supper, he gives the apostles some instructions that can be summarised as: an order, a promise and a sending on mission.

The order: do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the fulfilment of the Father's promise that must be fulfilled in Jerusalem since all the preaching of the prophets, especially Isaiah, attributes to Jerusalem a central role in God's plan (cf. Is 60:1-3; 62:1-2). The promise: "John baptised with water, you on the other hand will be baptised in the Holy Spirit not many days from now". This too was known to the apostles, who remembered the prophecy of Joel: "I will pour out my spirit on every creature" (Joel 3:1), and the prophecies of Zechariah: (Zechariah 13:1; 12:10), and of Ezekiel: "I will pour out cleansing water on you and you will be purified... I will put a new spirit in you... I will put my spirit in you" (Ezek 36:25-27). When the apostles ask "whether this is the time when he will rebuild the kingdom for Israel", they show that they have understood that "the Day of the Lord" has dawned and God's plan now demands man's cooperation: with Christ, in fact, the promised Saviour has come, now it is up to human freedom to accept him, and for this the apostles' announcement is necessary. Hence the responsible mission of the apostles who receive the Holy Spirit: "You will receive the power of the Holy Spirit who will come upon you, and you will be my witnesses... to the ends of the earth". The plan that the book of Acts follows is in fact this: first the proclamation in Jerusalem, then throughout Judea and Samaria, and finally it must spread to the ends of the earth. Just as on Easter morning two men in shining garments aroused the women saying: "Why do you seek the Living One among the dead? He is not here, he is risen", so, on Ascension Day, "two men in white robes" do the same to the apostles: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing into the sky? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven" (1:11). Jesus will return, we are certain of it, and we proclaim it in every Eucharist when we say 'In blessed hope of the coming of Jesus Christ our Saviour'. Finally, a cloud removes Jesus from human sight: his carnal presence ceases to usher in the spiritual one. A visible sign of this presence of God is the cloud already present at the Red Sea passage (Ex 13:21) and at the Transfiguration (Lk 9:34).

NOTE: The events between the Resurrection and Ascension cannot be reconstructed exactly. In Luke's texts (Gospel and Acts) the narration is essentially identical: Jesus leaves Bethany and takes the disciples to the Mount of Olives recommending that they not leave Jerusalem until they have received the Holy Spirit. The only difference concerns the duration: in the gospel it appears that the Ascension takes place on the evening of Easter itself, whereas in Acts it is made clear that forty days elapse between Easter and Ascension - hence the feast forty days later. In the other gospels little is found about the Ascension: Matthew does not speak of it at all, reporting only the apparition to the women and the sending to Galilee (Matthew 28:18-20). John narrates several apparitions, but omits the Ascension. Mark mentions the Ascension briefly at the end (Mk 16:19). The differences show that the gospels do not aim at a precise geographical account but at emphasising theological aspects: Matthew insists on Galilee, Luke on Jerusalem. In fact, it is in Jerusalem that Jesus had ordered to wait for the Spirit: "Behold, I send upon you him whom my Father has promised; but you remain in the city until you are clothed with power from on high" (Lk 24:49).

*Responsorial Psalm (46 (47),2-3,6-7,8-9)

In this psalm Israel sings and acclaims God not only as its king, but as king of the whole earth. Before the exile in Babylon, no king of Israel had imagined that God could be the Lord of the whole universe, and therefore the psalm dates from a late period in Israel's history. God is the king of Israel and therefore in Israel the king did not hold all power because the true king was God himself. The king could not dispose of the law as he pleased and, like everyone else, had to submit to the Torah, i.e. the rules that God had given to Moses on Sinai. On the contrary, according to the book of Deuteronomy, he had to read the entire Law every day and, even sitting on the throne, he was (in principle) no more than an executor of God's orders, transmitted to him by the prophets. In the Books of Kings, kings sought the advice of the prophet in charge before embarking on a military campaign or, in the case of David, before starting the building of the Temple, so that the prophets freely intervened in the lives of kings, strongly criticising their actions. Such a conception of God's sovereignty was even an obstacle to the establishment of monarchy, as was the case when the prophet Samuel, in the time of the Judges, reacted strongly towards the tribal leaders who demanded a king to be like all other nations. To desire to be like other peoples, when one is God's chosen people and in covenant with Him, was something blasphemous, and if Samuel gave in to the pressure, he did not fail to warn of the ruin they were bringing upon themselves. When he anointed the first king, Saul, he took care to point out that he became the custodian of God's heritage because the people remained God's people, not the king's, and the king himself was only a servant of God. During the years of the monarchy, the prophets were charged with reminding the kings of this essential truth. One understands then that in honour of God, this psalm uses the vocabulary that was elsewhere reserved for kings. Even 'terrible' is an expression typical of court jargon and should be understood as follows: the king (God) does not frighten his subjects, but reassures them, and so the enemies are warned that 'our king' will be invincible. The God king of the universe, "the great king over all the earth" (v. 3), acclaimed in every verse of the psalm is precisely the God of Sinai, the "Lord" and in this feast all peoples participate: "All peoples clap your hands, acclaim God with shouts of joy!" so that the universal dimension profoundly pervades the psalm to the point of saying "God reigns over the nations" (v. 9) recognising him as the only God of the entire universe.

NOTE: The real discovery of monotheism occurred only with the Babylonian exile: until then Israel was not monotheist in the full sense of the term, but monolatrist, i.e. it recognised as its own one God - the God of the Sinai Covenant - but admitted that the neighbouring peoples each had their own god, sovereign in their own land and defender in battle. This psalm was therefore probably composed after the return from exile, not in the throne room, but in the rebuilt Temple in Jerusalem, in a liturgical context evoking God's great plan for humanity, anticipating the day when God will finally be recognised as the Father of all good. We Christians make this psalm our own, and the expression "God ascends amid acclamations" seems well suited for today's celebration of Jesus' Ascension. In paying this splendid homage to Christ, King of the Universe, we anticipate the song that on the last day the children of God finally gathered together will intone: "All peoples, clap your hands! Acclaim God with shouts of joy".

*Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (9:24-28 ; 10:19-23)     

In the first part of this text, the author meditates on the mystery of Christ; in the second part, he draws the consequences for the life of faith with the intention of reassuring his readers, Christians of Jewish origin, who felt a certain nostalgia for ancient worship since in Christian practice there is no longer a temple, nor blood sacrifice, and wondered if this is really what God wants. The author goes through all the rituals and realities of the Jewish religion showing that they are now outdated. He deals especially with the Temple, called the sanctuary, and makes it clear that one must distinguish the true sanctuary in which God dwells - heaven itself - from the temple built by men, which is only a pale image of it. The Jews were rightly proud of the Temple in Jerusalem, but they did not forget that every human construction, by definition, remains weak, imperfect and destined to perish. Moreover, no one in Israel claimed that one could enclose the presence of God in a building, no matter how majestic. The first builder of the Temple, King Solomon, had already said this: "Would God dwell on earth? The heavens and the heaven of heavens cannot contain you; let alone this House that I have built!" (1 Kings 8:27).  For Christians, the true Temple - the place of encounter with God - is no longer a building, because the Incarnation of the Word has changed everything. The place of encounter between God and man is Christ, the God made man, and St John explains this when he narrates Jesus driving the money changers and animal sellers out of the Temple. To those who asked him: "What sign will you show us to do this?" (i.e. "in whose name are you making this revolution?) he replied: "Destroy this temple and in three days I will restore it". Only after the resurrection will the disciples understand that he was talking about his body (Jn 2:13-21). Here, in the Letter to the Hebrews, the same thing is affirmed: only by being grafted into Christ, nourished by his body, do we enter into the mystery of the God who "entered not into a sanctuary made by human hands, a figure of the true one, but into heaven" (Heb 9:24). This occurred with the death of Christ, making clear the centrality of the Cross in the Christian mystery, as confirmed by all New Testament authors. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews specifies later that the culmination of Christ's life-offering is his death, but his sacrifice embraces his entire existence, not just his Passion (cp10). In the passage we read today, the focus is on the sacrifice of the Passion, as opposed to that which the high priest offered each year on the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur). He entered alone into the Holy of Holies, pronounced the unspeakable name of God (YHVH), shed the blood of a bull for his own sins and that of a goat for those of the people, thus solemnly renewing the covenant, and when he left, the people knew that their sins were forgiven. That covenant had to be renewed every year, but the new covenant established with the Father is final in Christ crucified and risen. On the cross, the true face of God is revealed, who loves us to the uttermost, the Father of each one of us, for whom there is no longer any fear of God's judgement. When we proclaim in the Creed that Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead, we know that, in God, judgement means salvation, as we read here: "Christ, having offered himself once to take away the sin of many, will appear a second time, without any relation to sin to those who wait for him for their salvation" (Heb 9:28). This certainty of faith enables us to live our relationship with God in full serenity and thanksgiving. But it is important to bear witness to it, as this text exhorts us: "Let us continue without hesitation to profess our hope, for He who promised is faithful" (Heb 10:23). Jesus Christ is "the high priest of future goods" (Heb. 9:11).

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (24:46-53)

The synoptics, Matthew, Mark, and Luke differ in their account of the Lord's Ascension, 

Matthew places it on a mountain in Galilee, where Jesus had fixed his appointment with the apostles; Mark gives no geographical indication; Luke, on the contrary, places the event on the Mount of Olives towards Bethany. Thus he ends the gospel where it began, in Jerusalem: the holy city of the chosen people from which the revelation of the one God had radiated to the world; the city of the temple-sign of God's presence among men. But also the city of the fulfilment of salvation through Christ's death and resurrection, and the city of the gift of the Spirit. Finally, the city from which the final revelation is to radiate over the universe, and Luke makes Jesus' words ring in our ears: "Was it not necessary that Christ should suffer these things in order to enter into his glory?" (Lk 24:26). What is new here, in comparison to the three prophecies of his passion uttered by Jesus before the events and the two statements immediately after the resurrection and on the road to Emmaus, is the conclusion of the sentence, which takes the form of a missionary sending of the apostles: "Thus it is written: 'Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and in his name shall be preached to all nations repentance and forgiveness of sins, beginning at Jerusalem. Of this you are witnesses (Lk 24:46-49) For the first Christians it was difficult to explain which passage of Scripture had announced the sufferings of the Messiah and his resurrection on the third day; among the last prophets of the Old Testament the prophecies about the conversion of all nations, beginning with Jerusalem, were much more widespread, as we read in Jeremiah: "On that day they shall call Jerusalem the throne of the Lord; all nations shall flock there, to the name of the Lord, to Jerusalem" (3:17); and in the third Isaiah: "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples" (56:7); "From moon to moon, from Sabbath to Sabbath, every creature shall come and bow down before me" (66:23). Zechariah then develops this theme: "On that day many nations will gather to the Lord and will be a people to me" (Za 2:15), "Many peoples and mighty nations will come to Jerusalem to seek the Lord of hosts" (8:22).Exegetes state that although these reflections are present in numerous psalms, it was above all the songs of the Servant in Deutero-Isaiah (Is 42; 49; 50; 52-53) that inspired the evangelists' meditation and clarified Jesus' expression "It was necessary that::" because in these four canticles emerges the figure of the suffering and glorified Messiah and the proclamation of good for all the nations: "I, the Lord," have called you with righteousness, I have taken you by the hand, I have formed you; I have made you a covenant of the people, a light of the nations" (Is 42:6);

"The righteous, my servant, will justify the multitudes" (Is 53:11). This conclusion of Luke's gospel thus takes on the tones of the liturgy: Jesus, the true High Priest, blesses his own and sends them out into the world, and the people worship and give thanks: "Lifting up his hands, he blessed them. And as he blessed them, he departed from them and was taken up into heaven. And they prostrated themselves before him; then they returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and stood in the temple praising God" (Lk 24:50-53). Luke's gospel closes by going back to its beginning, when Zechariah, a priest of the Old Covenant, had heard the announcement of God's salvation (Lk 1:5-19), and the last image that the disciples kept of the Master is a gesture of blessing. This explains why they return to Jerusalem with great joy. In this concluding image is enclosed the mystery of the light and joy of the Ascension, a departure that is not abandonment but the certainty of a different presence, invisible but even more powerful and effective.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Lk 1:39-56 (46-56)

The hymn-song-ensemble of Mary and Elizabeth summarizes and celebrates the history of salvation. It reflects a Judeo-Christian liturgical lauda characteristic of the first communities of 'anawim.

The small and faithful experience the ideal outline of history, of which they paradoxically become the engine.

The two Women give voice to the poor and minority churches, often challenged by the forces of imperial power in dramatic duels.

They depict early assemblies, tiny fraternities; hearths of cohabitation and intimate life.

In them, believing souls experienced a God who does not remain impassive to the cry of the lowly, persecuted.

In a framework of family visitation and (precisely) praise, the whole destination of the new People is reflected.

The difference between the two figures emphasizes the leap of Faith in Mary, compared to the expectations of religious kinship.

In Elizabeth, the First Covenant has already run its full course, and would not go much further.

Human history is barren, but God makes it fruitful with newness and joy, which finally changes the boundaries.

The foreseen ways have come to an end; still blind and submissive to the powers of the earth... They do not make the weak strong.

Faith entirely transmutes the foundations of anti-divine history, because it allows the Spirit to take possession of personal life and permeate it, making it capable of blessing action.

In Mary's way of believing we grasp within what do not know - because we have a guiding Vision, a sacred image that acts inside, like an innate instinct.

And we already possess what we hope for - because Faith is a stroke of the hand, an action that appropriates, an act-magnet (cf. Heb 11:1).

[Its pinnacle is discovering impossible recovery stupors, starting with the shadowy sides and even that we hate of ourselves - very affair of the discarded].

The Hymn thus expresses the trajectory of the believer's life and the direction of our existence, which recomposes the shaky being in the new harmony of the divine plan.

A classical thesis already from the First Testament: God lifts the wretched from the dust and raises the poor from the rubbish.

He does not address those who are full of themselves, but to whoever  knows how to turn to the depths, and like Mary how to extend them to others.

Within this event of losing oneself in order to find oneself - a logic embodied by both the disciples and the churches - we find the experience of Easter morning.

Lk evangelist of the poor celebrates this reversal of situations in many episodes of people and events at the margins.

The Magnificat also reiterates: the Lord's choices are truly eccentric. Freely He passes for the defeated and the mocked, who find gain in loss and life from death.

Mary in particular becomes an expressive figure of baseness [ταπείνωσις (tapeínōsis, “lowering”), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, “low”); v.48] as the ‘root’ of the transformation of being - into the Unpredictable of God.

He is Faithful.

[Visitation B.V. Mary, 31 May]

(Lk 1:39-45)

'Incarnation': if our gaze does not fixate on a few ideas but lightly begins to rest on the human condition, then a reign of peace begins.

The hesitant crowd in the ancient coat of arms can rejoice, because that faint but decisive Presence arrives that liberates and gives us breath.

Unusual opportunity for redemption on the scale of women and men, even children.

The people have a Dream: to grasp their identity and mission, despite the religion of mediocrity, of abuse - sullen looks and fears.

Mary helps each one to understand how to substitute the caress of a heart of flesh for so many extraneous prescriptions on cold stone slabs.

Her peace-shalom is not wished on the practitioner of the sacred. He omits the oneness of the Call, the Surprise, the Person.

Zechariah does not live Beatitudes: he is already identified, therefore radically unbelieving.

The great reminiscences and his typical role make him refractory to the Newness of the Spirit.

It is useless even to speak to him, although he is master of the House in which the Promises are 'remembered'. A habit of remembrance that now waits for nothing.

The decisive Encounter? Perhaps there will be... but who knows when.

Mythical waiting distracts, it does not involve. Idolatrous re-actualisation does not cheer; it stares, it does not make one dance.

The feast is a sign that the Lord has come to the family; not on the set, really. [It is not easy to understand this in the time of externality].

Mary does not aspire to be and show herself to be a 'VIP'; she places herself spontaneously among ordinary people, who suffer a painful condition.

She does not chase after projects, her previous ideas, some constrained tic that bounces around in her thinking. This is the purity of Mary.

Those who resemble her have no need to beg or display recognition, achievements, credentials, titles, merits. This is her purity.

She did not misunderstand God by exchanging him for appearances. She did not allow herself to be caged by clichés, because she did not hinder her unrepeatable identity by thinking she was wrong.

With a silent mind and detachment from judgement she allowed her vocational instinct to regenerate, conceive, give life.

She did not pursue an ideal, weightless (and meaningless) image, as if she were cast in a character - and conformist.

If she corrected herself, she did not do so by folding in on herself, but by overtaking and pulling straight; thus she discovered how to adjust, but to fly.

Everything did not go well for him, as if he already had the film of his life in his head. He had hiding places and doubts, travails to overcome.

He didn't think, he didn't speak, he didn't act as if he were 'infinite'; but decisively, yes.

She was not always successful, and yet she did not retract just veraciously.

She faced conflicts, yet without those mental burdens that bridle us with fixations [even sacred ones] that God does not care about, and block the way.

In events and within herself she seized moments of insecurity to remind herself of the Pearl to be sifted.

A passionate search that kept her alive, knowing that things of the soul are different.

She was not a do-gooder saint, she waged battles - and with spiritual denunciation.

In fact, she did not ask for permission to embark on a daring journey.

Nor does she 'see' the man of the official institution: the priest with his rituals punctuated in minute detail.

Instead, he recognises himself in Elizabeth. She too is a forgotten one, but one who cultivates the promise ("Eli-shébet": the Lord My-Personal has 'sworn'; as in "God is faithful to Me").

Zechariah, on the other hand ("zachar-Ja" the Lord yes but not 'My' but of Israel, 'remember') fails to move from regular religiosity to Faith involving his founding Eros.

Mary did not want to be fake, she did not wish to become artificial - therefore useless, and in time shattered.

She aspired to plant herself further and better on her own Roots.

If she couldn't understand something, she used these suspensions to project herself forward, in search of the precious treasure chest of her destination.

He gave no space to the toxins of the mind created by dreamless habit, by the paradigms of his place and time. She did not imagine that she would always remain the same.

She chose not to lay down the evolutionary side: she understood that she could be stimulated precisely by the bitterness, the abandonments, the impacts, the wounds.

Ark of the Covenant with visionary and viable intimacy, without (inside) icy tables of legalisms; because God does not express Himself by issuing rules, but in Love - which does not demolish.

He had with Heaven a relationship of Incarnation; not external and without Oneness [of stone as in intimidated obedience]. In its marrow: Resembling - from Equal to Equal.

From the religion of the many subordinates to the Faith?

Not a Church of the wedges: Mary is the new consciousness and the different orientation of humanity.

Magnificat: religious kinship, and the outburst of Faith

(Lk 1:46-55)

Although the Greek-language context of the earliest codices alludes to a canticle proper to Elisabeth (vv.42-46), later tradition placed the hymn on Mary's lips.

Their song-together summarises and celebrates the history of salvation. It reflects a Judeo-Christian liturgical lauda characteristic of the first communities of 'anawim.

[Today, as then, the small and faithful experience the ideal outline of history, of which they paradoxically become the engine].

Mary and Elizabeth give voice to the poor and minority 'churches', often challenged by the forces of imperial power in dramatic duels.

Fraternities that experienced a God who does not remain impassive to the cry of the persecuted least.

In a framework of family visitation and (indeed) praise, the whole destination of the new People is reflected.

The difference between the two women emphasises the outburst of Faith in Mary, as opposed to the expectations of religious 'kinship'.

In Elizabeth, the First Covenant has already run its full course, and would not go much further.

The history of men is barren, but the Eternal makes it fruitful with newness and joy, which finally changes the boundaries.

The planned ways have come to an end; still blind and subservient to the powers of the earth - self-divining...

But here it is revealed that the security of the great is vain, non-existent; seeking only profit.

And despite the millennia, there are still too many who clothe their positions with seemingly pious proclamations - insubstantial proclamations of love that helps and enriches the little ones, that make the weak strong.

Faith entirely transmutes the foundations of anti-divine history, because it allows the Spirit to take possession of personal life and fertilise it, making it capable of blessing action.

In Mary's way of believing we know what we do not know - because we have a guiding Vision, an Image that acts within like an innate instinct.

And we already possess what we hope for - because Faith is a stroke of the hand, an action that is appropriated, an act-calm (cf. Heb 11:1).

Its apex will be to discover impossible recovery stupors, starting from the shadowy and detested sides of us [the very discarded].

The hymn thus expresses the trajectory of the believer's life in Christ and the direction of our existence that little by little or suddenly recomposes the shaky being in the new harmony of the divine plan.

A classical thesis already from the First Testament: God lifts the wretched from the dust and raises the poor - the marginalised (with indifference) - from the rubbish.

He does not address himself to those who are full of themselves and with identified roles, but to those who know how to turn to the depths, and like Mary he extends them to others.

Within such a story of losing oneself in order to find oneself again - a logic embodied both by the disciples and the churches - is to be found the experience of Easter morning, whose Gospels 'describe' the Resurrection as the ability to see the tombs open and to discern life even amidst signs of absence, and in the place of death.

Lk evangelist of the poor celebrates this reversal of situations in many episodes: Pharisee and publican, prodigal son and firstborn, Samaritan and Levite priest, Lazarus and rich Epulon, first and last place, Beatitudes and 'troubles'...

The Magnificat also reiterates: the Lord's choices are truly whimsical for the religious nomenclature mentality.

Freely He passes for the defeated, the mocked, deemed stupid, ignoble; the weak, marginalised by cliques, rejected by the club of the acclaimed.

The canticle is a perfect 'type' of this predilection, which finds gain in loss and life from death, in people and events on the margins.

Mary in particular becomes an expressive figure of lowliness [ταπείνωσις (tapeínōsis, "lowering"), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, "low"); v.48 Greek text] as the 'root' of the transformation of being - in God's Unpredictable.

In Mary and Elizabeth the 'anawim contemplated the feast of the triumph of the children, of the creatures who repeat in themselves the Passover of Christ.

Happening and proposal that even in times of emergency makes life flourish again from the failure of the mythologies of power and force.

In the Risen One who always shows the wounds, believers everywhere have realised: the poverty of heart and life lived by Christ and the (Church) Mother is the true disruptive force of history.

God is faithful.

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit exults in God my Saviour, because he has turned his face to the lowliness of his handmaid" (Lk 1:46b-48a).

To internalise and live the message

Do you consider divine munificence a property?

How do you proclaim your personal and ecclesial awareness - of fulfilment in Christ - of the Covenant Promises?

[...] Meditating on the Holy Rosary's Mysteries of Light, you have climbed this hill where you spiritually relived, as the Evangelist Luke recounts, the experience of Mary from Nazareth in Galilee, who "went with haste into the hill country" (Lk 1: 39) to reach the village in Judea where Elizabeth lived with her husband Zechariah. What drove Mary, a young woman, to undertake that journey? What, above all, led her to forget herself, to spend the first three months of her pregnancy at the service of her cousin in need of help?

The response is written in a Psalm: "I will run in the way of your commands when you enlarged my understanding" (Ps 119[118]: 32). The Holy Spirit, who makes the Son of God present in Mary's flesh, enlarged her heart to God's dimensions and urged her along the way of charity.

The Visitation of Mary is understood in light of the event that immediately preceded it in Luke's account in the Gospel: the Annunciation of the Angel and the conception of Jesus by the work of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit descended upon the Virgin, the power of the Most High overshadowed her (cf. Lk 1: 35).

That same Spirit impelled her to "rise" and depart without hesitation (cf. Lk 1: 39) in order to help her aged relative. Jesus had just begun to form himself in the womb of Mary, but his Spirit had already filled her heart so that the Mother was already beginning to follow her divine Son. On the way that leads from Galilee to Judea it was Jesus himself who "urged" Mary on, instilling in her a generous desire to go to the aid of her neighbour in need, the courage not to put her own legitimate needs, difficulties, worries, the dangers to her own life first. It is Jesus who helped her to overcome everything, allowing her to be guided by faith that works through charity (cf. Gal 5: 6).

Meditating on this mystery we see why Christian charity is a "theological" virtue. We see that the heart of Mary is visited by the grace of the Father, is permeated by the power of the Spirit and interiorly compelled by the Son; that is, we see a perfectly human heart inserted into the dynamism of the Most Holy Trinity.

This movement is charity, which is perfect in Mary and becomes the model of the Church's charity, a manifestation of Trinitarian love (cf. Deus Caritas Est, n. 19).

Every gesture of genuine love, even the smallest, contains within it a spark of the infinite mystery of God: the attentive concern for a brother, drawing near to him, sharing his need, caring for his wounds, taking responsibility for his future, everything to the last detail becomes "theological" when it is animated by the Spirit of Christ.

May Mary obtain for us the gift to know how to love as she knew how to love. To Mary we entrust this singular portion of the Church that lives and works in the Vatican; we entrust to her the Roman Curia and the institutions connected to it, so that the Spirit of Christ may animate every task and service.

From this hill we extend our glance to Rome and to the entire world, and we pray for all Christians, so that they may say with St Paul: "the love of Christ urges us on", and with the help of Mary may they be able to spread the dynamism of charity in the world.

Again, I thank you for your dedication and warm participation. Take my greetings to the sick, the aged and everyone dear to you. To all I heartily impart my Blessing.

[Pope Benedict, 31 May 2007]

"Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country..." (Lk 1,39).

In front of this Grotto, which recalls the Shrine of Lourdes, we conclude the Marian journey made during the month of May. Let us relive together the mystery of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin, on this pilgrimage through the Vatican Gardens which every year involves Cardinals and Bishops, priests, men and women religious, seminarians and many of the faithful. I am grateful to Cardinal Virgilio Noè and all those who have carefully prepared this pause for prayer at the feet of Our Lady.

The words of the Evangelist Luke echo in our hearts, "When Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary ... [she] was filled with the Holy Spirit" (1,41)

The meeting between Our Lady and her cousin, Elizabeth, is like a sort of "small Pentecost". This is what I would like to stress this evening, on the eve of the great solemnity of the Holy Spirit.
In the Gospel account, the Visitation immediately follows the Annunciation:  the Virgin, who carries the Son conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit in her womb, radiates grace and spiritual joy around her. It is the presence of the Spirit within her that causes Elizabeth's son, John, destined to prepare the way for the Son of God made man, to leap with joy.

Wherever Mary is, Christ is; and wherever Christ is, there is his Holy Spirit, who proceeds from the Father and from him in the most sacred mystery of the Trinitarian life. The Acts of the Apostles rightly places emphasis on Mary's prayerful presence in the Upper Room, together with the Apostles gathered in expectation to receive the "power from on high". The "yes" of the Virgin, "fiat", draws down the Gift of God upon humanity:  as in the Annunciation, so in Pentecost. So it continues to happen throughout the Church's journey.

Gathered in prayer with Mary, let us implore an abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the whole Church, so that she may put out into the deep in the new millennium with her sails unfurled. In a special way, let us call down the Spirit upon all who work everyday at the service of the Holy See, so that the work of each one may always be enlivened by a spirit of faith and apostolic enthusiasm.

It is very significant that the last day of May brings us the feast of the Visitation. With this conclusion, it is as if we wanted to say that every day of this month has been a sort of visitation for us. We have lived a continuous visitation during the month of May, just like Mary and Elizabeth. We are grateful to God that this biblical event is presented to us once again by today's liturgy.
I hope for you all, who have gathered here in such a numerous group, that the grace of the Marian visitation you have experienced during the month of May and especially on this last evening, will be extended in the days to come.

[Pope John Paul II, 31 May 2001]

There are many Christians who do not know joy. And even when they are in church praising God, they look more like they are at a funeral than a joyful celebration. If instead they learn to come out of themselves and give thanks to God, "they would really understand what that joy is that sets us free".

And it was precisely Christian joy that was the focus of Pope Francis' homily this morning, Friday 31 May, Feast of the Visitation, during the concelebrated Mass in the chapel of the Domus Sanctae Marthae [...].

"Today's two readings," began the Pontiff, referring to passages from the book of the prophet Zephaniah (3:14-18) and from the Gospel of Luke (1:39-56), "speak to us of joy, of gladness: 'Rejoice, shout for joy,' says Zephaniah. Shouting for joy. Cool this! "The Lord is in your midst"; do not be afraid; "do not let your arms fall down"! The Lord is powerful; he will rejoice for you. He too will rejoice for us. He too is joyful. "He will exult over you with shouts of joy". Hear how many good things are said about joy!".

In the Gospel account, joy characterises Mary's visit to Elizabeth. "Our Lady goes to visit Elizabeth," the Holy Father recalled. And presenting the image of Mary as a mother who is always in a hurry - just as he had done last Sunday in the Roman parish of Saints Elizabeth and Zechariah - Pope Francis dwelt on that "gasp of the child in Elizabeth's womb" revealed by her to Mary herself: "Behold, as soon as your greeting reached my ears, the child gasped with joy in my womb".

"Everything is joy. But we Christians,' noted the bishop of Rome, 'are not so used to talking about joy, joyfulness. I think that many times we like complaints more! What is joy? The key to understanding this joy is what the gospel says: "Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit". What gives us joy is the Holy Spirit. Even in the first prayer of the Mass we asked for the grace of docility to the Holy Spirit, the one who gives us joy'.

The Pope then spoke of another aspect of joy that comes to us from the Spirit. "Let us think," he said, "of that moment when Our Lady and St Joseph take Jesus to the temple to fulfil the Law. The gospel says that they go and do what was written in the Law". There are also two elders there; but, he noted, the Gospel does not say that they went there to fulfil the Law, but rather because they were driven by the 'power of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit brings them to the temple'. So much so that, before Jesus, the two "make a prayer of praise: but this is the Messiah, blessed be the Lord! And they also make a spontaneous liturgy of joy". It is the faithfulness matured over so many years waiting for the Holy Spirit that makes "this Spirit come and give them joy".

"I like to think," Pope Francis went on to confide, "that the young people fulfil the Law; the elderly have the freedom to let the Spirit guide them. And this is beautiful! It is the Spirit who guides us. He is the author of joy, the creator of joy. And this joy in the Spirit gives us true Christian freedom. Without joy we Christians cannot become free. We become slaves of our sadnesses'.

So the Pontiff quoted "the great Paul VI", recalling that he said "you cannot carry the Gospel forward with sad, disheartened, discouraged Christians; you cannot. This attitude is a bit funerary". Instead, Christian joy comes precisely from praising God.

"But what is this praising God?" the Pope asked. "Praise him gratuitously, as the grace he gives us is gratuitous" was his response. Then, turning to one of those present at the celebration, he said: 'May I ask the question to you who are here at Mass: do you praise God? Or just asking God and thanking God? But praise God?" This, he repeated, means 'going out of ourselves to praise God, wasting time praising'.

At this point the Pontiff referred to one of the criticisms that is often levelled at priests: 'This mass you do is long'. Of course, he explained, still addressing those present, 'if you don't praise God and don't know the gratuitousness of wasting time praising God, of course it's a long mass! But if you go to this attitude of joy, of praising God, that is beautiful'. After all, 'eternity will be this: praising God. But this will not be boring, it will be beautiful. This joy sets us free'.

"And I want to add," he said in conclusion, "one last thing: it is she, Our Lady, who brings joy. The Church calls it the cause of our joy, causa nostrae letitiae, Why? Because it brings our greatest joy, it brings Jesus. And by bringing Jesus, she makes 'this child leap in his mother's womb'. She brings Jesus. She with her prayer causes the Holy Spirit to burst in. She burst forth on that day of Pentecost; she was there. We must pray to Our Lady so that by carrying Jesus she may give us the grace of joy, of freedom; Give us the grace to praise, to make a prayer of free praise, because he is worthy of praise, always".

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 01/06/2013]

Affliction and joy in the pains of childbirth

(Jn 16:20-23a)

A widespread belief in Jesus' age was that the end time would be preceded by an excess of tribulation and violence.

The jubilation of the future golden age would be heralded by an unprecedented trials period.

The image of the parturient expressed the sense of intensely painful history in the turn of the times.

Hard times that were expected to be not excessively durable - compensated for by a liberation that would have one startled with joy.

The spirit of self-sufficiency and feigned security of the surrounding world [even of the religious caste, concerned with safeguarding itself] would have led church members into terrifying loneliness.

The faithful contradicted the “pious” and imperial way of considering life, based on false security and a spirit of affirmation.

The historical moment seemed invaded by sadness and at the same time by an ineffable, radical expectation, which paradoxically arose from the same cause of persecution.

Exclusion produced a sense of discouragement, but it was also a spring that activated incisive glances, and action, for a reverse fulfillment - in the living experience of the divine Presence.

Social estrangement triggered a situation of Freedom: it became an unexpected, profitable, tangible Gift.

Everything was proved to be useful in reconciling the multiplicity of faces with one's own scattered history, sisters and brothers, and God's future.

End of misunderstandings.

In light of the actual experience of the working Vision-Faith, even in malaise there would have been no questions to advance: only answers.

The mystery of each person’s existence was then eloquently elucidated, without scattershot questions anymore: rather, with inner guides.

In the figure of Jesus who "grees" his intimates, Jn introduces the Gift of the Paraclete. Spirit bearing the joy of the Master’s [silent] Presence.

Still «in the midst» - He was giving birth to the new world.

Frequent allusions to intimate sufferings in the text describe the reality of the Johannine communities of Asia Minor at the end of the first century, tormented by defections.

Oppression under Domitian was increasing, and many community brethren were impatient: they needed a key to profound interpretation, and a perspective.

They were not going to make it on their own, starting with themselves.

Jn intends to sustain the pains of believers and prevent flight, encouraging all to see persecution as a life-giving mechanism [birth pangs: v.21].

Only in this way would he who had death before his eyes not fear to continue in his frankness as a witness: he must have a strong Hope.

On such a ray of light and in the wake of God in history, step by step everything became clear.

In the life of the woman and the man of Faith, melancholy and joy went hand in hand - indeed, it was the absolute and lacerating trials that unleashed flow of life.

The death of Christ and his intimates made possible a new Birth of humanity.

Mystery of life, of tribulations, and of being in fullness «new creatures» ‘from genesis to genesis’.

It was precisely the travail that produced in the sons of God the joy of a rediscovered Presence, in the long time of evangelization - always in danger of going astray and in the temptation to give in.

We must remember this rhythm: sadness of leave-taking and new heart, joy and sadness...

Paradoxical synergy that can grow our engaging union with the Risen One, recognized as «personal Lord».

[Friday 6th wk. in Easter, May 30, 2025]

Affliction and joy in labour pains

(Jn 16:20-23a)

A widespread belief at the time of Jesus was that the last time would be preceded by an excess of tribulation and violence.

The joy of the coming golden age would be heralded by a period of unprecedented trials.

The image of the woman giving birth expressed the sense of the intensely painful history at the turn of the times.

Times that were not expected to be excessively long - compensated by a deliverance that would cause one to rejoice.

The spirit of self-sufficiency and feigned security of the surrounding world (even of the religious caste, preoccupied with safeguarding itself) would lead church members into terrifying loneliness.

The believers contradicted the pious and imperial way of looking at life, based on false certainties and a spirit of affirmation.

The moment in history seemed invaded by sadness and at the same time by an ineffable, radical expectation, which paradoxically arose from the same cause of persecution.

Exclusion produced a sense of discouragement, but it was also a spring that activated incisive glances, and action, for a reverse fulfilment - in the living experience of the divine Presence.

Social estrangement triggered a situation of Freedom: it became an unexpected, fruitful, tangible Gift.

Everything was shown to reconcile the multiplicity of faces with their own scattered history, brothers and sisters, God's future.

No more misunderstandings.

In the light of the real experience of the working Vision-Faith, even in the malaise there would be no questions to put forward: only answers.

The mystery of each person's existence was eloquently clarified, with no more scattering questions: rather, with inner guides.

In the figure of Jesus "greeting" his own, Jn introduces the Gift of the Paraclete. Spirit bearing the joy of the [silent] Presence of the Master.

Still in the midst - He was bringing the new world into being.

The frequent allusions to inner suffering in the text describe the reality of the Johannine communities in late 1st century Asia Minor, tormented by defections.

The oppression under Domitian was increasing, and many community brothers were impatient: they needed a profound key to interpretation, and perspective.

They would not have made it on their own, starting from themselves.

Jn intends to sustain the pains of the believers and to avoid flight, encouraging all to see in persecutions a generating mechanism of new life [labour pains: v.21].

Only in this way would those who had death before their eyes not be afraid to continue in their frankness as witnesses: they had to have a strong Hope.

On such a ray of light and in the wake of God in history, step by step everything became clear.

In the life of the woman and the man of Faith, melancholy and joy went hand in hand - indeed, it was the absolute and lacerating trials that unleashed the flow of life.

The death of Christ and his people made a new birth of humanity possible.

Mystery of life, of tribulations, and of being fully new creatures, from genesis to genesis.

In the Bible, Happiness is a perception of fullness of life, a place of celebration that transports the person and the entire fraternity from the ills of the journey - it is the great sign of the New World.

But the primitive communities experienced that intimate joy arose from the tears of a painful birth: this was also to be the case for the world to come; of unprecedented conquest and freedom.

From the labour pains arose a different, primordial life, filled with a different kind of exultation: dissonant from old forms, nomenclatures, and intentions, even for those giving birth.

In short, suffering did not deny the irradiation of the Spirit: it was a law of birth [not a negative force] that could indeed annihilate, but only those whose gaze was averted.

This was also the case with the Kingdom: its establishment happened within a struggle, never harmless - that even though it wounded outside and inside even the human substance, in the depths of the heart and relationships.

But it then reharmonised and more, in the thrill of discoveries, in the suggestions that throbbed - from which a new creation sprang.

To the official notes of the true Church [a holy catholic apostolic] one should perhaps add: harassed, scourged, nailed down. In this way, strengthened by a Word-Person that resonated within.

From all this came an unimpeded 'taste' from the earliest times, which immediately incurs worldly hostility. Nothing to do with empire and its pyramidal-feudal logic.

Precisely in the travail, each trial produced in the children of God the joy of a rediscovered Presence, in the long time of evangelisation - always in danger of going astray and in the temptation to yield.We must remember this rhythm: sadness of farewell and a new heart, joy and sadness....

Paradoxical synergy that can grow our engaging union with the Risen One, acknowledged Lord.

Spe Salvi

We somehow desire life itself, true life, which is then untouched even by death; but at the same time we do not know what we are being driven towards. We cannot cease striving towards it and yet we know that all that we can experience or realise is not what we long for. This unknown "thing" is the true "hope" that impels us and its being unknown is, at the same time, the cause of all despair as well as of all positive or destructive impulses towards the authentic world and authentic man. The word "eternal life" tries to give a name to this unknown known reality. Necessarily is an insufficient word that creates confusion. "Eternal', in fact, arouses in us the idea of the interminable, and this frightens us; 'life' makes us think of the life we know, which we love and do not want to lose, and which, however, is often at the same time more effort than fulfilment, so that while on the one hand we desire it, on the other hand we do not want it. We can only try to escape with our thoughts from the temporality of which we are prisoners and somehow presage that eternity is not a continuous succession of calendar days, but something like the moment filled with fulfilment, in which totality embraces us and we embrace totality. It would be the moment of diving into the ocean of infinite love, in which time - the before and the after - no longer exists. We can only try to think that this moment is life in the full sense, an ever new immersion in the vastness of being, while we are simply overwhelmed with joy. This is how Jesus expresses it in the Gospel of John: "I will see you again and your heart will rejoice and no one will be able to take your joy away" (16:22). We must think in this direction if we are to understand what Christian hope aims at, what we expect from faith, from our being with Christ.

[Pope Benedict, Spe Salvi n.12]

Desideriamo in qualche modo la vita stessa, quella vera, che non venga poi toccata neppure dalla morte; ma allo stesso tempo non conosciamo ciò verso cui ci sentiamo spinti. Non possiamo cessare di protenderci verso di esso e tuttavia sappiamo che tutto ciò che possiamo sperimentare o realizzare non è ciò che bramiamo. Questa « cosa » ignota è la vera « speranza » che ci spinge e il suo essere ignota è, al contempo, la causa di tutte le disperazioni come pure di tutti gli slanci positivi o distruttivi verso il mondo autentico e l'autentico uomo. La parola « vita eterna » cerca di dare un nome a questa sconosciuta realtà conosciuta. Necessariamente è una parola insufficiente che crea confusione. « Eterno », infatti, suscita in noi l'idea dell'interminabile, e questo ci fa paura; « vita » ci fa pensare alla vita da noi conosciuta, che amiamo e non vogliamo perdere e che, tuttavia, è spesso allo stesso tempo più fatica che appagamento, cosicché mentre per un verso la desideriamo, per l'altro non la vogliamo. Possiamo soltanto cercare di uscire col nostro pensiero dalla temporalità della quale siamo prigionieri e in qualche modo presagire che l'eternità non sia un continuo susseguirsi di giorni del calendario, ma qualcosa come il momento colmo di appagamento, in cui la totalità ci abbraccia e noi abbracciamo la totalità. Sarebbe il momento dell'immergersi nell'oceano dell'infinito amore, nel quale il tempo – il prima e il dopo – non esiste più. Possiamo soltanto cercare di pensare che questo momento è la vita in senso pieno, un sempre nuovo immergersi nella vastità dell'essere, mentre siamo semplicemente sopraffatti dalla gioia. Così lo esprime Gesù nel Vangelo di Giovanni: « Vi vedrò di nuovo e il vostro cuore si rallegrerà e nessuno vi potrà togliere la vostra gioia » (16,22). Dobbiamo pensare in questa direzione, se vogliamo capire a che cosa mira la speranza cristiana, che cosa aspettiamo dalla fede, dal nostro essere con Cristo.

[Papa Benedetto, Spe Salvi n.12]