God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. On this Sunday, 2 February 2025, we celebrate the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple of Jerusalem

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Malachi (3,1-4) 

We are in the presence of a mysterious prophetic fragment seen by many as a testimony of universalism, freedom and hope. However, it is not easy to understand how to accept this text. Why does the prophet Malachi insist so much on the Temple, on the Levites (or priests), on offerings and on everything related to worship? To understand this insistence, the historical context must be taken into account. Malachi writes around 450 BC, at a time when there was no longer a king in Israel descended from David, the country was under Persian rule, and the Jewish people were ruled by priests. This is why the author insists on God's covenant with the priests who were God's representatives to his people. Malachi recalls the privileged bond between God and the descendants of Levi, but witnesses a degeneration in the conduct of this priestly caste and it was therefore very important to recall the ideal and responsibility of the priesthood. The covenant with the priests was at the service of God's covenant with his people, and it is precisely this covenant that is spoken of here: 'Immediately shall the Lord whom you seek enter into his temple; and the angel of the covenant whom you long for, behold, he is coming'. Malachi addresses all those who wait, who desire, who seek, and announces to them that they have not waited, sought, desired in vain, and their desire, their expectation will be fulfilled. And this will soon come to pass.

"And immediately he will come", the Hebrew word pit'ôm indicates both swiftness and nearness, and is as strong as the expression that follows: "here he comes". The two synonymous expressions 'immediately he will enter' and 'here he comes' frame (include) the announcement of the Lord's coming. "Immediately shall he enter into his temple, the Lord whom you seek; and the angel of the covenant whom you long for, behold, he is coming". The angel of the covenant comes to re-establish the covenant: first of all with the sons of Levi, but above all, through them, with the whole people, and we understand that this angel of the covenant is God himself. In the Bible, in order not to name God directly out of respect, the expression 'the Angel of God' is often used. It is therefore about the very coming of God. In his small book of just four pages in our Bible, Malachi speaks several times of the day of his coming; he calls it the 'day of the Lord' and each time this day appears both desirable and disquieting. For example, in the verse that immediately follows the text of today's liturgy, God says: "I will come to you for judgment" (v. 5), that is, I will deliver you from evil. This is desirable for the righteous but fearsome for those who live in evil and work evil. God's intervention is a discernment that must take place within us on the day of judgement and a messenger must precede the coming of the Lord who will call all people to conversion. As Malachi writes: "I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me. Later, Jesus will quote precisely this prophecy referring to John the Baptist. Asking the people who they had gone to see, he will say that John the Baptist is "more than a prophet. He is he of whom it is written: Behold, I send my messenger before you; he shall prepare your way before you" (Mt 11:7-10 and Lk 7:27).  With these words, Jesus identified himself as the Angel of the covenant coming to his temple and we will understand this better by delving into St Luke's Gospel today, feast of the Presentation of the Lord 

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

"Lift up, O ye gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory come in". This expression is solemn and somewhat surprising since it is difficult to imagine that the gates would rise. We are in a poetic context and the hyperbole serves to express the majesty of this King of glory who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The expression 'king of glory' refers to God himself, the Lord of the universe. Our thoughts go back to the great feast of the Dedication of the first Temple, performed by King Solomon around 950 BC. In our imagination we see again the huge procession, the steps packed with worshippers... As we read in Psalm 67/68: "Your procession appears, God, the procession of my God, of my king, in the sanctuary. Singers precede, zither-players follow, along with maidens playing tambourines" (Ps 67:25-26). The Dedication of the first Temple by Solomon is described in the first book of Kings. On that occasion Solomon gathered the elders of Israel, the heads of the tribes, and the princes of the families of the children of Israel in Jerusalem, to bring up the Ark of the Lord from the city of David, that is, from Zion in the month of Etanim, the seventh month, during the Feast of Tabernacles. When all the elders of Israel had arrived, the priests brought up the Ark, the tent of meeting, and all the sacred objects that were in the tent, and so many small and large cattle were sacrificed that they could not be counted nor enumerated. The priests placed the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord in its place, in the inner chamber of the House, the Holy of Holies, under the wings of the cherubim. The cherubim, in the Bible, do not resemble the little angels of our imagination, but are winged animals with human faces, more like large Egyptian sphinxes. In Mesopotamia, they were the guardians of temples. In the Temple of Jerusalem, above the Ark of the Covenant stood two gilded wooden statues depicting these beings. Their outstretched wings above the Ark symbolised the throne of God. In this context, we can imagine the crowd and a choir singing: 'Lift up, O gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the king of glory enter'. And another choir replies: 'Who is this king of glory? The Lord strong and valiant, the Lord valiant in battle'. Behind the terms recalling war, which may surprise us today, we must read the memory of all the battles Israel needed to win a living space. Ever since the giving of the Law on Sinai, the Ark accompanied the people of Israel in every battle, a sign of God's presence in the midst of his people. The most common assumption is that this psalm is very old, since all trace of the Ark has been lost since the Babylonian exile. No biblical text clearly mentions it either during or after the exile, but it is known that it ended up as part of the booty taken away by Nebuchadnezzar during the taking of Jerusalem. Was it later hidden by Jeremiah on Mount Nebo, as some relate? No one knows. Yet this psalm was sung regularly in the ceremonies of the Temple of Jerusalem even long after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer any procession around the Ark. This is precisely why it acquired greater importance: having definitively lost the Ark of the Covenant, the tangible sign of God's presence, the psalm represented all that remained of the past splendour. It taught the people the necessary detachment: God's presence is not bound to an object, however loaded with memory. Moreover, with the passing of the centuries, this psalm took on a new meaning: "Let the King of glory come in" became the cry of impatience for the coming of the Messiah. Come at last the eternal King who will reign over renewed humanity at the end of time! He will indeed be the "Lord valiant in battle" the one who finally vanquishes Evil and the powers of death; he will indeed be the Lord, God of the universe and all mankind will share in his victory. This was the expectation of Israel, which grew from century to century.  It is not surprising, then, that the Christian liturgy sings Psalm 23/24 on the day it celebrates the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem: a way of affirming that this child is the King of glory, that is, God himself.

* Second Reading From the letter to the Hebrews ( 2:14-18)

 The theme of Christ's mediation is fundamental in the Letter to the Hebrews. It is undoubtedly useful to remember that it was written in a context of not a few controversies, and it is precisely from this letter that we can intuit the kind of objections that the first Christians of Jewish origin had to face. They were constantly being told: Your Jesus is not the Messiah; we need a priest, and he is not. It was therefore crucial for a first-century Christian to know that Christ is indeed a priest, the institution of the priesthood being central in the Old Testament, as we also noted in the first reading from the book of Malachi, which is the last of the Old Testament. Now, such an important institution in the history of the Jewish people and for its survival, could not be ignored in the New Testament. Jesus, however, according to Jewish law, was not a priest and could not aspire to be one, much less consider himself a high priest. He was not descended from David, hence from the tribe of Judah, nor from the tribe of Levi, and the author of the Epistle knows this and states it clearly (cf. Heb 7:14).  The Letter to the Hebrews answers: Jesus is not a high priest descended from Aaron, but he is in the likeness of Melchizedek.  This character mentioned in Genesis chapter 14 lived long before Moses and Aaron and is related to Abraham. Yet he is called "priest of the Most High God" (cf. Gen 14:18-20). So Jesus is indeed high priest, in his own way, in continuity with the Old Testament. This is precisely the purpose of the Letter to the Hebrews: to show us how Jesus realises the institution of the priesthood and to realise in biblical language does not mean to reproduce the Old Testament model, but to bring it to its full perfection. So let us see the three aspects of the ancient priesthood and what its essential elements were: The priest was a mediator, a member of the people who was allowed to commune with God's holiness and, in return, passed on God's gifts and blessings to the people. In today's passage, it is emphasised that Jesus is indeed a member of the people: 'Since the sons have flesh and blood in common, Christ in the same way became a partaker of them... therefore he had to make himself in all things like the brethren...' (Heb 2:14-17). To be "like" means to share the same weaknesses: temptations, trials, suffering and death. Jesus shared our poor human condition and in order to bring God closer to man, he made himself one of us, thus cancelling the distance between God and man. Moreover, the priest had to be allowed to communicate with the holiness of God who is the Holy One, that is, the totally Other (Kadosh, El Elyon, HaKadosh HaMufla), as the Bible often reminds us. To get closer to the Holy God, priests underwent rites of separation: ritual bathing, anointing, dressing and sacrifice. Even the sacred places where the priests officiated were separated from the common living spaces of the people. With Jesus, all this is turned upside down: he never separated himself from the life of his people, rather he mingled with the little ones, the marginalised, the unclean. And yet, says the Letter to the Hebrews, we have certain proof that Jesus is the Righteous One par excellence, the Son of God, the Holy One: his resurrection by defeating death has re-established the Covenant with God, which was the very goal of the priests. We are now free, and the greatest enemy of freedom is fear. But, thanks to Jesus, we no longer have anything to fear because we know God's love. The one who made us doubt this love was Satan, but through death, Jesus reduced him to powerlessness (cf. 2:14-15). Jesus' suffering shows how far God's love for us goes. Finally a question: Why does this Letter speak of the "children of Abraham" and not the "children of Adam"? It states in fact. "He cares not for the angels, but for the seed of Abraham". The answer is because Abraham, in biblical meditation, represents faith, understood as trust, and we are left with the freedom not to be children of Abraham, that is, believers. It is up to us to decide whether or not to enter into God's plan.

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

In the account of the evangelist Luke a double insistence emerges: first on the Law, then on the Spirit. In the first verses (vv. 22-24), he mentions the Law three times to emphasise that the child's life begins under the sign of the Law. It should be made clear, however, that Luke mentions the Law of Israel not as a series of written commandments and indeed one could replace the word 'Law' with 'Faith of Israel'. The life of the Family of Nazareth is all imbued with faith, and when they come to the Temple in Jerusalem to fulfil the Jewish customs, they do so with an attitude of fervour. Luke's first message is this: the salvation of all mankind took shape within the framework of the Law of Israel, of the faith of Israel: in a word, the Word of God became incarnate in this context and thus God's merciful plan for mankind was fulfilled. Then Simeon enters the scene, prompted by the Spirit, also mentioned three times. It is therefore the Spirit who inspires Simeon with the words that reveal the mystery of this child: 'My eyes have seen your salvation'. It is good to take up these words of Simeon one by one: 'My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples'. The Old Testament is the story of this long and patient preparation by God for the salvation of mankind. And it is precisely the salvation of mankind, not just the people of Israel. This is exactly what Simeon points out: 'Light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. Israel's glory, in fact, lies in having been chosen not for itself, but for all mankind. As history progressed, throughout the events of the Old Testament, God's chosen people discovered more and more clearly that God's plan of salvation concerns the whole of humanity. furthermore, all this takes place in the Temple.  For Luke, the message is fundamental and he communicates it to us: we already witness the glorious entry of Jesus, Lord and Saviour, into the temple of Jerusalem, as the prophet Malachi had announced. This is precisely the opening of the first reading: 'Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me, and straightway the Lord whom you seek shall enter into his temple; and the angel of the covenant, whom you long for, behold, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts'.

Luke recognises in Jesus the Angel of the Covenant who enters his temple. Simeon's words about glory and light fit perfectly in this line: 'My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples: light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. Another echo of today's gospel in the Old Testament is found in the Psalm: "Who is this king of glory? Lift up, O gates, your foreheads". The psalm awaited a Messiah-king descendant of David; we know that the king of glory is this child. Luke describes a majestic scene of glory: the whole long wait of Israel is represented by two characters, Simeon and Anna. "Simeon, a righteous and godly man waited for the consolation of Israel". As for Anna, it can be assumed that if she spoke of the child to those who were waiting for the liberation of Jerusalem, it was because she too was eagerly awaiting the Messiah. When Simeon proclaims: 'Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples: a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel', he clearly states that this child is the Messiah, the reflection of God's glory. With Jesus, it is the Glory of God that enters the Sanctuary; which is tantamount to saying that Jesus is the Glory, that he is God himself. From this moment, the time of the Law is fulfilled. The Angel of the Covenant has entered his temple to spread the Spirit over all mankind of every race and culture. 

P.S. For further study, since we also find this Gospel page on the feast of the Holy Family of Nazareth, I will add a few additional notes.

The expectation of the Messiah was alive in the Jewish people at the time of Jesus' birth, but not everyone spoke of it in the same way, even though the impatience was shared by all. Some spoke of the 'consolation of Israel', like Simeon, others of the 'deliverance of Jerusalem', like the prophetess Anna. Some were waiting for a king, a descendant of David, who would drive out the occupiers, representatives of the Roman power. Others awaited a completely different Messiah: Isaiah had described him at length and called him 'the Servant of God'.

To those who waited for a king, the narratives of the Annunciation and the Nativity showed that Jesus was precisely the one they were waiting for. For example, the angel at the Annunciation had told Mary: 'The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David; he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end'. Certainly the young girl from Nazareth was surprised, yet the message was clear.  Yet in the account of Jesus' presentation in the Temple, there is no mention of this aspect of the newborn child's personality. And besides, the child who enters the Temple in the arms of his parents was not born in a royal palace, but in a modest family in precarious conditions. Rather, it seems that St Luke invites us to recognise in the child presented in the Temple, the servant announced by Isaiah in chapters 42, 49, 50 and 52-53: 'This is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one whom I rejoice in (42:1)...The Lord has called me from my mother's womb, from my mother's womb he has spoken my name (I49:1)...Every morning he listens to me, so that I may hear like the disciples; the Lord God has opened my ear' (50:4-5).  Such an expression declares that this servant was very docile to the word of God; and he had received the mission to bring salvation to the whole world. Isaiah said: "I have set you as a covenant for the peoples, as the light of the nations" (42:6)... "I will make you the light of the nations, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth" (49:6). Which shows that already at the time of Isaiah it was understood that God's plan of love and salvation concerns all mankind and not only the people of Israel. Finally, Isaiah did not conceal the terrible fate that awaited this saviour: he would fulfil his mission of salvation for all, but his word, deemed too inconvenient, would arouse persecution and contempt. Let us recall this passage: 'I presented my back to the scourgers, my cheeks to those who plucked their beards' (50:6). Probably under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and thanks to his knowledge of Isaiah's prophecies, Simeon immediately understood that the child was the Servant announced by the prophet. He guessed the painful fate of Jesus, whose inspired word would be rejected by the majority of his contemporaries. He said to Mary: "Behold, he is here for the fall and resurrection of many in Israel and as a sign of contradiction - and to you also a sword will pierce your soul - so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed". Simeon understood that the hour of salvation for all mankind had come: "Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, prepared before all peoples: light to reveal you to the nations and glory to your people Israel". Yes, Jesus is the Servant Messiah, described in Isaiah's "Songs of the Servant of the Lord" (42,49,50,52-53) the one who brings salvation: "Through him shall the will of the Lord be done" (53:10).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

I also offer at someone's request a short summary that can be circulated among the faithful. Next Sunday, 2 February 2025, we celebrate the Presentation of the Lord and

let us prepare ourselves by taking a quick look at the word of God that we will hear in Holy Mass

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Malachi (3,1-4) 

We are in the presence of a mysterious prophetic fragment seen by many as a testimony of universalism, freedom and hope. However, it is not easy to understand how to accept this text. The prophet Malachi insists so much on the Temple, the Levites (or priests), the offerings, and everything related to worship because Israel was under Persian rule and the Jewish people were ruled by the priests who were God's representatives to his people. The covenant with the priests was at the service of God's covenant with his people and it is this covenant that is at issue here. Malachi addresses all those who wait, desire, seek and announces to them that they have not waited, sought, desired in vain and their desire, their expectation will be fulfilled because soon the Angel of the Covenant will come, that is, God himself. As Malachi writes: "I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me. Later, Jesus will quote precisely this prophecy referring to John the Baptist. Asking the people who they had gone to see, he will say that John the Baptist is "more than a prophet. He is he of whom it is written: Behold, I send my messenger before you; he shall prepare your way before you" (Mt 11:7-10 and Lk 7:27).  With these words, Jesus identified himself as the Angel of the covenant coming to his temple and we will understand this better by delving into St Luke's Gospel today, feast of the Presentation of the Lord 

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

"Lift up, O ye gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory come in". This expression is solemn and somewhat surprising since it is difficult to imagine that the gates would rise. We are in a poetic context and the hyperbole serves to express the majesty of this King of glory who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The expression 'king of glory' refers to God himself, the Lord of the universe. We can imagine the crowd and a choir singing: 'Lift up, O gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory enter'. And another choir responds: 'Who is this king of glory? The Lord strong and valiant, the Lord valiant in battle'. This psalm was sung in the ceremonies of the Temple of Jerusalem even long after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer any procession around the Ark. This is precisely why it acquired greater importance: having definitively lost the Ark of the Covenant, the tangible sign of God's presence, the psalm represented all that remained of the past splendour. It taught the people the necessary detachment: God's presence is not bound to an object, however loaded with memory. Moreover, with the passing of the centuries, this psalm took on a new meaning: "Let the King of glory come in" became the cry of impatience for the coming of the Messiah. Come at last the eternal King who will reign over renewed humanity at the end of time! This was the expectation of Israel, growing from century to century.  No wonder, then, that the Christian liturgy sings Psalm 23/24 on the day it celebrates the Presentation of the Infant Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem: a way of affirming that this child is the King of glory, that is, God himself.

* Second Reading From the letter to the Hebrews ( 2:14-18)

 The theme of Christ's mediation is fundamental in the Letter to the Hebrews. It is undoubtedly useful to remember that it was written in a context of not a few controversies, and it is precisely from this letter that we can intuit the kind of objections that the first Christians of Jewish origin had to face. They were constantly being told: Your Jesus is not the Messiah; we need a priest, and he is not. It was therefore crucial for a first-century Christian to know that Christ is indeed a priest. Jesus, however, according to Jewish law, was not a priest and could not aspire to be one, much less consider himself a high priest. The Letter to the Hebrews answers: Jesus is not a high priest descended from Aaron, but he is in the likeness of Melchizedek, a character who appears in Genesis chapter 14 and lived long before Moses and Aaron and is related to Abraham. Yet he is called "priest of the Most High God" (cf. Gen 14:18-20). So Jesus is indeed high priest, in his own way, in continuity with the Old Testament. This is precisely the purpose of the Letter to the Hebrews: to show us how Jesus realises the institution of the priesthood, and to realise in biblical language does not mean to reproduce the Old Testament model, but to bring it to its full perfection. Finally a question: Why does this Letter speak of the "sons of Abraham" and not the "sons of Adam"? Indeed, it says. "He cares not for the angels, but for the seed of Abraham". The answer is because Abraham, in biblical meditation, represents faith, understood as trust, and we are left with the freedom not to be children of Abraham, that is, believers. It is up to us to decide whether or not to enter into God's plan.

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

In the account of the evangelist Luke a double insistence emerges: first on the Law, then on the Spirit. In the first verses (vv. 22-24), he mentions the Law three times to emphasise that the child's life begins under the sign of the Law. It should be made clear, however, that Luke mentions the Law of Israel not as a series of written commandments and indeed one could replace the word "Law" with "Faith of Israel" and the life of the Family of Nazareth is all imbued with this faith. Luke's first message is this: the salvation of all humanity took shape within the framework of the Law of Israel, of the faith of Israel: in a word, the Word of God became incarnate in this context and thus God's merciful plan for humanity was fulfilled. Then Simeon enters the scene, prompted by the Spirit, also mentioned three times. It is therefore the Spirit who inspires Simeon with the words that reveal the mystery of this child: "My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples". The Old Testament is the story of this long and patient preparation by God for the salvation of mankind. And it is precisely the salvation of mankind, not just the people of Israel. This is exactly what Simeon points out: 'Light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. The glory of Israel, in fact, lies in having been chosen not for itself, but for all mankind. For Luke, the message is fundamental and he communicates it to us: we already witness the glorious entry of Jesus, Lord and Saviour, into the temple of Jerusalem, as the prophet Malachi had announced. Luke recognises in Jesus the Angel of the Covenant entering his temple. The psalm awaited a Messiah-king descendant of David; we know that the king of glory is this child. Luke describes a majestic scene of glory: the whole long wait of Israel is represented by two characters, Simeon and Anna. "Simeon, a righteous and godly man waited for the consolation of Israel". As for Anna, it can be assumed that if she spoke of the child to those who were waiting for the liberation of Jerusalem, it was because she too was eagerly awaiting the Messiah. When Simeon proclaims: 'Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation', he clearly states that this child is the Messiah. With Jesus, the Glory of God enters the Sanctuary; which is equivalent to saying that Jesus is the Glory, God himself entered his temple to spread the Spirit over all mankind.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [26 January 2025]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! This Sunday, 26 January 2025, marks the 6th Sunday of the Word of God. In St. Peter's Basilica, Pope Francis will preside over it in the context of the Jubilee Year. The chosen motto is taken from the Book of Psalms: "I hope in your Word" (Ps 119:74).

III Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)

*First Reading from the Book of Nehemiah (8: 2-4a. 5-6. 8-10)

For those of us who begin to complain when liturgies last longer than an hour, we would surely be well served by all standing together from dawn until noon, as one man: men, women and children. And during such a long time to listen to readings in Hebrew, a language that was no longer understood, although the scribe, the reader, would interrupt from time to time to make way for the translator, who would translate the text into Aramaic, a language commonly used in Jerusalem. Those taking part did not seem tired, nor did they find the time too long: on the contrary, they all wept with emotion, sang and continually cheered together with their hands raised: Amen! Ezra, the priest, and Nehemiah, the governor, can be satisfied because they have succeeded in restoring confidence to the people who, after the Babylonian exile, continue to go through a complicated and difficult period. 

We have here a beautiful testimony of the reconstruction of Israel's 'national home' after the Babylonian deportation.  We are in Jerusalem around 450 B.C.: the exile in Babylon was over and after much controversy, the Temple in Jerusalem was finally rebuilt, even if it was not quite like Solomon's, and community life was also resumed. We could say that everything was going well, but it was not, and morale was low because the people seemed to have lost hope, which they had always retained even in the most painful parts of their existence. The truth is that the scars of the previous century's dramas remained because it was not easy to resume life after the invasion and looting of the city. Indeed, the scars remained for generations: scars of the exile itself, but also those of the return to the homeland since everything had been lost with the deportation to Babylon. The long-awaited return was not a triumph, but an occasion for confrontation between those who had remained in Jerusalem and by now had begun a life of their own, even introducing pagan rites, and the 'community of the return' who, after more than fifty years, thought they would find what their ancestors had left behind, something that was impossible and created serious clashes between them.  The miracle is that that period, although terrible, was very fruitful because the faith of Israel survived the test. Not only did this people keep their faith intact during the exile, amidst all the dangers of idolatry, but they remained united and even grew in fervour. This was all thanks to the priests and prophets, who did tireless pastoral work. It was, for example, a period of intense re-reading and meditation of the Scriptures, since one of the main purposes during the fifty years of exile was to direct all hopes towards the return to the promised land. However, the much hoped-for return turned out to be a cold shower because, as experience teaches us, there is almost always a gulf between dream and reality. On closer inspection, the great problem of the return, as we have seen in Isaiah's texts for the Epiphany and the second Sunday of Ordinary Time (last Sunday), was the difficulty of living together between those who had returned from Babylon full of ideals and plans, the so-called "community of return", and those who had meanwhile settled in Jerusalem. Between them there was not a ditch, but a real chasm: some were pagans who had occupied the land and brought idol worship with them, and their concerns were light years removed from the manifold demands of Jewish law. Their priorities were incompatible with the demands of the Torah. The rebuilding of the Temple met with their hostility, and the less fervent members of the Jewish community were often tempted by the prevailing laxity. The authorities were particularly concerned about this religious laxity, which continued to worsen due to the numerous marriages between Jews and pagans, and it became virtually impossible to preserve the purity and demands of the faith under such conditions. It was at this point that Ezra, the priest, and Nehemiah, the secular governor, joined forces and succeeded in obtaining together from the king of Persia, Artaxerxes, a mission to rebuild the city walls and full powers to reorganise these people. It must be remembered that they were still under Persian rule. Ezra and Nehemiah did their utmost to raise the situation and to restore strength and awaken the morale of the people. The Jewish community was all the more in need of cohesion as it was now living in daily contact with paganism and religious indifference. In the history of Israel, the unity of the people has always been built in the name of the Covenant with God, and the pillars of the Covenant remain the same: they are the Land, the Holy City, the Temple and the Word of God. Since they had returned home, the Land was there; Nehemiah, the governor devoted himself to reorganising the Holy City, Jerusalem, and the Temple was rebuilt. That left the Word, which was proclaimed during a gigantic open-air celebration.

It was important to take care of every detail for the staging of the celebration mentioned here: even the date was carefully chosen and an ancient tradition was revived, a great feast on what was then the date of the New Year: 'the first day of the seventh month'. For the occasion, a wooden platform was built overlooking the people and from that high platform the priest and translators proclaimed the Word. The homily then was an invitation to feast: eat, drink, for it is a day of joy, a day of your gathering around the Word of God. It is no longer a time for tears, nor for sadness and emotion. There is a lesson here that may be useful: to strengthen the community, Ezra and Nehemiah do not lecture the people, but propose a feast around the Word of God. To revive the sense of family, there is no better way than to organise and share moments of joyful celebration on a regular basis.

*Responsorial Psalm (18 (19), 8. 9. 10. 15)

We encounter this psalm several times, and we have therefore already had the opportunity to emphasise the importance for Israel of the Law, which is an extremely positive value, just as important is the fear of God, an attitude that is also profoundly positive and filial. There are several passages in the Old Testament in which the Law is presented as a path: if a son of Israel wants to be happy, he must be careful not to deviate either to the right or to the left. Today, to better understand this psalm, I propose to reread the book of Deuteronomy. The book of Deuteronomy is relatively late, written at a time when the southern kingdom of Judah was drifting dangerously away from the practice of the Law. This book therefore resounded as a cry of alarm: If you do not want the same catastrophe to happen to you that has befallen the northern kingdom, you would do well to change your ways. It is thus a reference to all the commandments of Moses and his warnings. Deuteronomy also contains a meditation on the role of the Law whose sole purpose is to educate the people and keep them on the right path. If God cares so much that his people remain on the right path, it is because this is the only way they can live happily and fulfil their calling to be a chosen people among the nations. The king of Jerusalem, Josiah, undertook a profound religious reform around 620 B.C., relying precisely on the book of Deuteronomy. While we would be inclined to see the law as a burden, it is clear in the Bible that it is an instrument of freedom. To help understand this, the image of the eagle teaching its young to fly is interesting in the biblical tradition. Ornithologists who have observed eagles in the Sinai desert tell us that when the young eagles soar, their parents stay nearby and glide above them, tracing wide circles; when the young are tired, they can at any time rest (in the double sense of catching their breath and resting on their parents' wings) and then soar once they have regained their strength. The ultimate goal, of course, is that the little ones soon become capable of fending for themselves. The biblical author took this image to explain that God gives his Law to men to teach them to fly with their own wings. There is no shadow of domination in this, far from it; by freeing his people from slavery in Egypt, the Lord has demonstrated once and for all that his only goal is to free his people. Here is what the book of Deuteronomy says: "The Lord found his people in a desert land, in a heath of lonely howls. He surrounded him, raised him up, guarded him as over the pupil of his eye. Like an eagle that watches over his brood, that flies above his born, he spread his wings" (Deut 32:9-11). A God who wants man to be free! This is the message that is faithfully transmitted from generation to generation: "Tomorrow, when your son asks you: why these prescriptions, these laws and customs that the Lord our God has commanded you?" then you will answer your son: "We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but with a mighty hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt... The Lord commanded us to practice all these laws and to fear the Lord our God, that we might always be happy and that he might keep us alive as we are today" (Deut 6:20-24). When King Josiah tried to get his people back on the right path, he realised how important it was for him to make known this book, which repeats this message in every way: the shortest way to be a free and happy people is to live according to the commands of the God of Israel. Understand, if your brothers in the north ended up so badly, it is because they forgot this elementary truth (always keep in mind the division between the southern kingdom, the kingdom of Judah, and the northern kingdom, the kingdom of Israel, and how the northern kingdom due to alliances with foreign peoples ended up being occupied and practically destroyed). And now, Josiah reminds us, it is not only the salvation of the southern kingdom that is at stake - which of course was his first concern - but the salvation of all mankind. And how will the chosen people be able to be witnesses of the liberating God before all nations if they do not themselves behave as a free people and instead fall into the constant temptations of humanity: idolatry, social injustice, power struggles?

Throughout history, the biblical authors have gradually become aware of this responsibility that God entrusted to his people by offering them his Covenant: "To the Lord our God belong the hidden things, while those things that are revealed are for us and for our children for ever, that all the words of this Law may be put into practice" (Deut 29:28). This inspires in Israel a great pride that never becomes presumption; if necessary, Deuteronomy calls the people back to humility: "If the Lord has taken a liking to you and chosen you, it is not because you are more numerous than all the other peoples, for you are the least of all" (Deut 7:7); and again: "Recognise that it is not because you are righteous that the Lord your God gives you possession of this good land, for you are a hard-necked people" (Deut 9:6).

Our psalm today takes up this lesson of humility: "The precepts of the Lord are upright, they make the heart rejoice; the commandment of the Lord is clear, it enlightens the eyes" (v.9). "The precepts of the Lord are upright": here is a nice way of saying that only God is wise. There is no need, then, to think oneself wise, but rather to let oneself be guided by him with simplicity. King Josiah would gladly have repeated this admonition to encourage his subjects: 'Yea, this commandment which I command thee today is not too hard for thee, nor beyond thy reach. It is not in heaven, for you to say: Who shall ascend for us into heaven to take it for us, that we may hear it and be able to put it into practice? Nor is it beyond the sea, for you to say: Who will cross the sea for us to take it, that he may make us hear it and we may put it into practice? Yes, the word is very near you: it is in your mouth and in your heart, that you may put it into practice'. The humble, daily practice of the Law can gradually transform an entire people; as the psalm goes on to say: "The command of the Lord is clear, it enlightens the eyes" Deut 30:11).

One last remark: The book of Deuteronomy, which we know today, is later than Josiah; however, the foundations were already well laid in a manuscript found by Josiah's workers during the restoration of the temple in Jerusalem (cf. Second Book of Kings 22:8-13 and Second Book of Chronicles 34:14-19). It is an interesting manuscript probably brought by refugees from the northern kingdom after the fall of Samaria in 721 and was a solid exhortation for true conversion and an invitation to return to the practice of the commandments. Scholars believe it to be part of chapters 12-26 of the book of Deuteronomy.

* Second Reading from the First Epistle of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (12:12-30)

St Paul simply and directly states that everyone in the Christian and civil community has a task to perform and a place to occupy while being attentive to one another: we should not despise one another, and indeed we should remember that everyone needs everyone. Paul's lengthy reasoning is evidence of a concrete situation: the community in Corinth faced exactly the same problems as we do today.

To teach his believers a lesson, Paul resorts to a method that works better than any discourse: he gives them an example with a parable that he did not actually invent at all because he uses a fable that everyone knew and adapts it to his objective. This is an allegorical narrative better known as the apologue "the belly and the limbs" by Menenius Agrippa, a Roman consul and diplomat of the 5th century BC. In truth, this narration is already present in Aesop, a storyteller and fable teller of ancient Greece (6th century B.C.) as well as in Phaedrus (a contemporary of Jesus 20 B.C. - 50 A.D.) both of whom were well known at the time of St Paul. This parable is found in the Roman History of Titus Livius and Jean Fontaine (1621-1695) took it up and transformed it into verse in the 9th book of his fables. Like all fables, it begins with: Once upon a time there was a man like all the others... except that, in him, all the limbs talked and argued with each other, but not all of them showed a good character, apparently, probably because some had the impression that they were less considered or somewhat exploited. One day, during a discussion, his feet and hands rebelled against his stomach: why did his stomach, he, only eat and drink what the other limbs gave him and all the pleasure was for him?  It was certainly not the stomach that got tired working, tilling the vineyard, shopping, cutting meat, chewing, and so on. Then they decided all the limbs would simply go on strike and from that moment on, no one would move: the stomach would see what would happen to it. That way, if the stomach died, the satisfaction would belong to those who had stopped working. However, they had forgotten one very simple thing: if the stomach dies of hunger, it will not be the only one to suffer. That body, like all others, was one, and everyone needed everyone!

St Paul thus took from the cultural heritage of his time a parable that was very easy to understand. And, if anyone had not understood it, he took the trouble to explain the meaning of the parable of the body and members himself by illustrating its teaching. For Paul, the moral is clear: our differences are an asset, provided we use them as instruments for unity. One of the salient points of Paul's discourse is that, not for a moment, he speaks in terms of hierarchy or superiority: Jews or Gentiles, slaves or free men since all our human distinctions no longer count. Only one thing matters now: our baptism into the same Spirit, our participation in one body, the body of Christ.

God's perspectives are completely different as Jesus clearly taught his apostles: "Among you it will not be so" (Matthew 20: 25-28).  However, Paul knows that this way of seeing things, of no longer thinking in terms of superiority, hierarchy, advancement or honours, is very difficult and so he insists on the respect that must be given to all: simply because the highest dignity, the only one that counts, is to be all members of the one body of Christ.

Respect, in the etymological sense of the term, is a question of gaze: sometimes, people who seem or seem unimportant to us we do not even see, our gaze does not linger on them. It can happen to all of us to feel ignored in the eyes of someone: their gaze slides over us as if we did not exist. Is that not so? 

In short, Paul offers us a great lesson in respect: respect for diversity, on the one hand, and respect for the dignity of each person, whatever their function or social role. I know it is not easy, but it is necessary to have a less selfish outlook to discover what each of us can bring to the life of our families, our communities and society. There are those who have a thinking mind, those who are researchers, inventors, organisers... There are those who have flair, those who can be patient, those who are clairvoyant, those who have the gift of speech and those who are better at writing, and there are those who suffer from illness or are very poor materially and spiritually, but all can offer something to others. One could go on enumerating the many charisms to be discovered and enhanced: one only needs to direct one's gaze well. If last Sunday, the second Sunday of Ordinary Time, reading the beginning of chapter 12 of the first letter to the Corinthians, seemed to be a hymn to diversity, today's development is a call to unity through respect for differences.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (1:1-4;4:14-21)

In the Sundays of ordinary time of liturgical year C, the evangelist Luke accompanies us, and we have already been able to meditate on his account of the birth and childhood of Jesus at Christmas time. We know very little about how the gospels were written and, in particular, about their dates of composition. However, from today's gospels we can deduce a few things. There was certainly oral preaching before the gospels were put into writing, for Luke tells Theophilus that he wanted to allow him to verify 'the soundness of the teachings he had received'. Luke also acknowledges that he was not an eyewitness to the events; he could only inform himself through eyewitnesses, which implies that they were still alive when he wrote. We can therefore assume that preaching about Christ's resurrection began already from Pentecost and that Luke's gospel was written later, but before the death of the last eyewitnesses, thus setting a cut-off date around 80-90 AD.

What we read today is placed after the baptism of Jesus and the account of his temptations in the desert. Apparently, everything seemed to be going well for Jesus who began his mission publicly after the death of John the Baptist. The evangelist writes: "Jesus returned to Galilee with the power of the Spirit and his fame spread throughout the region. He taught in the synagogues of the Jews, and they gave him praise". That Saturday morning Jesus, as a good Jew returning from a journey, went to worship in the synagogue. It is not surprising that he was given a reading, since every believer had the right to read the Scriptures. The celebration in the synagogue proceeded normally, until Jesus read the text of the day, which was a famous passage from the prophet Isaiah. In the great silence that followed the reading, Jesus quietly affirmed something extraordinary: "Today this Scripture that you have heard has been fulfilled". A few minutes of awkward silence followed, the time needed to interpret the meaning of his words. Indeed, those present expected Jesus to make a comment, as was customary, but not one that would surprise everyone. It is difficult for us today to imagine the audacity of that calm statement by Jesus, but for his contemporaries, that venerable text from the prophet Isaiah referred to the Messiah. Only the Messiah-King, when he would come, could have afforded to affirm: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me..." From the beginning of the monarchy, in fact, the rite of consecration of kings included an anointing with oil. This gesture was a sign that God himself was permanently inspiring the king to enable him to fulfil his mission of saving the people. It was then said that the king was 'mashiach', which in Hebrew simply means 'anointed' and which in Italian is translated as Messiah while in Greek as Christos and in Latin as Christus.

At the time of Jesus, there were no more kings on the throne of Jerusalem, but it was expected that God would finally send the ideal king, who would bring freedom, justice and peace to his people. In particular, in Roman-occupied Palestine, the one who would deliver the people from Roman occupation was awaited. Clearly, Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter's son, could not claim to be that expected Messiah-King. How could they recognise the Messiah they were waiting for in Jesus the humble carpenter in the land of Galilee? Yet he was indeed the Messiah. It must be acknowledged that Jesus did not cease to surprise his contemporaries.  St Luke emphasises, introducing this passage, that Jesus was accompanied by the power of the Spirit, an essential characteristic of the Messiah. But this is Luke's affirmation, the Christian; the people of Nazareth, on the other hand, did not know that, really, the Spirit of the Lord rested on Jesus. There is also this observation about the Gospel passage we have just heard. Jesus quotes the prophet Isaiah and attributes the quotation to himself, he makes it his own as a true programmatic discourse: 'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me... He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord. Of Isaiah's prophecy (61:1-2) he does not read and indeed skips the last part of verse 2 altogether, which says: "...and a day of vengeance for our God." This is a significant omission because he focuses on the proclamation of grace and deliverance, leaving aside the idea of vengeance, and his entire ministry is centred on mercy, salvation and God's love, rather than immediate judgement or punishment. This omission of Isaiah's last sentence and the application of the passage to himself upset his listeners for several reasons. First, the people of Nazareth expected a Messiah who would deliver Israel from its oppressors, especially the Romans, and bring justice and vengeance against the enemies of the Jewish people. The omission of the 'day of vengeance of our God' seemed to dismiss the idea of a political and executioner Messiah. By proclaiming a message of universal grace and salvation, Jesus was challenging their nationalistic expectations. Regarding his declaration that Isaiah's prophecy is fulfilled in him, many of those present considered it scandalous and presumptuous because they knew him as the "carpenter's son" (Luke 4:22) who lived among them, and could not reconcile his humble origin with the idea of an envoy of God. Moreover, Jesus, when later mentioning the episodes of Elijah and Elisha (Luke 4:25-27), went on to emphasise the fact that God often intervened for the good of pagans such as the widow of Sarepta in Sidon or Naaman the Syrian, and this showed that God's salvation and grace were not exclusively for Israel, but also for pagans. Proclaiming this universalism, however, offended the national and religious pride of its listeners. Finally, many Jews of the time hoped for immediate judgement against Israel's enemies. The fact that Jesus only emphasised the time of grace without mentioning vengeance could be perceived as a denial of divine justice against the wicked, and this offended those who desired a swift and final deliverance. The combination of so many elements gives insight into the violent reaction of his fellow citizens who attempted to drive him out of the synagogue and even to kill him by throwing him off a cliff (Luke 4:28-30). Finally, the rejection of Jesus by his countrymen becomes a symbol of the wider rejection that he will encounter in his ministry.

An informative note. During the first Sundays of Ordinary Time in the liturgical cycles A, B, C, the liturgy makes us reread the First Letter of St Paul to the Corinthians. It is a semi-continuous reading, beginning on the first Sunday of Ordinary Time and ending on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday.

Year A. The readings focus mainly on the first four chapters of the letter.

Main theme: the unity of the Church and the centrality of Christ.

*Sunday I: 1Cor 1:1-3 - Initial greeting and call to holiness.

*Sunday II: 1Cor 1:10-13.17 - Exhortation to unity in the Christian community.

*Sunday III: 1Cor 1:26-31 - The wisdom of God versus human wisdom.

*Sunday IV: 1Cor 2,1-5 - Preaching based on the power of the Spirit.

Year B. The readings continue in chapters 6-9 of the letter. Main theme: moral life and personal and community responsibilities.

*Sunday II: 1Cor 6:13c-15a.17-20 - The body as temple of the Holy Spirit.

*Sunday III: 1Cor 7,29-31 - The urgency of living for the Kingdom of God.

*Sunday IV: 1Cor 8,1b-7.10-13 - The responsibility towards weaker brothers and sisters in faith.

*Sunday V: 1Cor 9,16-19.22-23 - St Paul as an apostle who does everything for everyone.

Year C The readings focus on chapters 12-15 of the letter. Main theme: charisms, Christian love and the resurrection.

*Sunday II: 1Cor 12:4-11 - Diversity of charisms, one Spirit.

*Sunday III: 1Cor 12:12-30 - The Church as the body of Christ.

*Sunday IV: 1Cor 13:4-13 - The hymn to charity.

*Sunday V: 1Cor 15,12. 16- 20 - The resurrection of the dead as the foundation of faith.

Each liturgical year uses a different section of the letter to reflect on the different needs and themes of the Christian life. Key themes such as unity, charity, moral life and hope in the resurrection are highlighted. This semi-continuous scheme allows the faithful to progressively deepen their understanding of the Apostle Paul's teaching.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

In the difference between common religiosity and Faith

(Mt 13:1-23)

The parables compare the lived reality and the world of the Spirit:

«And other [seeds] fell on the earth that beautiful one and bore fruit rising and growing and they bore one thirty and one sixty and one hundred» (v.8).

Palestine’ stony terrain and scorching climate did not make it easy for the workers who lived on agriculture.

The lack of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten the path, destroyed the plants.

Tiring action and few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the peasant threw grains with a wide hand, generously - and ploughed, animated by confidence in the inner life force of the seed and in the bounty of nature.

Ploughing was after sowing, to avoid that the soils turned over dried immediately under the powerful heat, and did not allow the grains to take root thanks to a minimum of moisture.

So the sower didn’t select the different types of ground prematurely.

The Seed already works: the new ‘Kingdom that Comes’ is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you do not expect.

According to the ancient religious mentality it seems a madness, but the divine Farmer does not choose the type of "land", nor discriminates on the basis of the percentage of production - although it would seem easy to predict.

The Sower even accepts that his ‘grain’ fallen on the «beautiful» [v.8 Greek text] ground, fruits differently: one hundred, sixty, thirty for one.

The term «beautiful» (in the Eastern sense) means the full and fruitful land [the soul and work of the most intimate, even anonymous ones].

The Lord means that a wise commitment to evangelization cannot be measured with fussiness.

His Word remains as a Beginning thrown into the human heart by the One who is neither stingy nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

In this way, the Church, his new People, is a small alternative world to both the Empire and selective religions.

The new Rabbi did not intend to carve out better disciples than others - isolated from the reality of the human family.

He was proposing a new lifestyle, cohabiting.

In short, God doesn’t force the growth of the ‘seed’ in each of us, in an abstract way; He waits patiently.

Even accepts that it is born badly or that it does not arise at all. He knows where to go.

Since overflowingly spreads on all kinds of hearts (even on asphalt), He foresees already that will be accused of being unwise.

But He doesn’t worry about the quantity, nor about the immediate outward fruits of His ‘grain’.

He doesn’t care that the work is "effective in departure"!

Such is the amiable, humanizing and divine (parental) Tolerance that saves. Loveableness that does not kidnap us every moment, to plan.

Rather, all this is to make us understand that He is not a calculating and miserly God, external, tight and biased; but a munificent and conciliatory Father.

Lord of the Kingdom who does not wait first for our little ‘perfections’.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasize that any lack of result is not to be attributed to the lack of vitality of the Seed, nor to the divine Work, but to man’s freedom; to his condition of limit or incoherence.

Unfortunately, from the earliest generations of believers, the positive Call of Jesus has been reinterpreted somewhat backwards: with moralistic and individualistic overtones (vv.10-20) that have undermined its genuineness.

In this way, the initial proposal of personal Faith became contaminated with the customary purist and fall-back [guilt-ridden] outlook typical of the surrounding philosophies and religions, as well as common thought.

Certain configurations of ecclesial order subsequently normalized the same exceptional power of the Message; so unprecedented. In particular, the new sense of adequacy, confidence and self-esteem that the Son of God intended to communicate to His friends, and to the world of the least.

[Wednesday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 29, 2025]

A new God: perhaps a deluded one?

(Mk 4:1-20)

In a world that has lost its references but is perhaps trying to create more authentic and profound ones, the mission of maternity and paternity of those with experience is not only a material support: it extends to the more ancient discernment of the things of the soul.

The stony terrain and scorching climate of Palestine did not make life easy for those who lived from farming.

The scarcity of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten the journey destroyed the plants.

Tiring action and few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the farmer sowed the seed generously - and ploughed, animated by faith in the seed's inner life force and in the munificence of nature.

Ploughing was after sowing, to prevent the turned clods of soil from immediately drying out under the powerful heat and not allowing the seed to take root, thanks to a minimum of moisture.

Thus the sower did not select the different types of soil beforehand.

The parables compare the lived reality and the world of the Spirit.

The seed already works: the new 'coming kingdom' is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you do not expect it.

To a respectable mindset this sounds like madness, but the divine Farmer does not choose the type of 'soil', nor does he discriminate on the basis of the percentage of production [which would seem easy to predict].

The Sower even accepts that his 'grain' fallen on the 'good' (v.8 Greek text) i.e. full and fruitful soil [of his disciples and not] will bear fruit differently: "and they brought one thirty and one sixty and one hundred".

Jesus means that the work of evangelisation cannot be measured with fussiness.

His Word remains as the Beginning thrown into the human heart by the One who is not stingy, nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

His Church is a small world alternative to both empire and selective religions: it has no intention of carving out disciples who are 'better' than others and isolated from the reality of the human family.

A new way of life.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (XL): "Returning is the movement of the Tao; weakness is what the Tao adopts. The ten thousand creatures that are under the sky have life from being; being has life from non-being'.

And Master Wang Pi comments: 'Being has non-being for its utility: this is its return'. Master Ho-shang Kung adds: "The root is that towards which the Tao moves, which in its motion makes the ten thousand creatures live. If they oppose it, they perish. The Tao always makes use of softness and weakness, that is why it can last a long time".

God does not force the growth of the 'grain' in each of us, but waits patiently. He even accepts that it sprouts badly, or not at all.

Since he scatters overflowingly on all kinds of hearts [even on the asphalt] he knows that he will be accused of being careless: he is not concerned with the quantity (!), nor with the immediate outward fruits (!) of his 'seed' - he does not care that the work be 'effective from the beginning' (!).

But he cares to make us understand that he is Father, not the calculating God of the most varied beliefs: stingy, outwardly stingy, stingy, and prejudiced.

The parable of the Sower as historically narrated by Jesus (vv.1-9) denotes the total positivity of his Message: he proclaims a new world; first of all a different, tolerant and benevolent Heaven.

The principle of our life as saved is not what we do for God, but what He - Generous and Serene - does for us. Just like a condescending and longsuffering Parent, who ceaselessly offers opportunities for life.

The Kingdom of the Lord is not to be prepared and set up [according to normal preconceptions] but welcomed.

The Master intended to shift the criterion of the pious life: from personal effort to 'letting oneself be saved'.

The Redemption has roots of the unprecedented that displace propositions and expectations.

It is not founded on plotted tracks.

It emerges from a providential initiative, in gratuitous liberality; from the tolerant calm of Heaven - which allows us a process and a broad time for growth.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasise that any lack of result is not to be attributed to the Seed's lack of vitality, nor to the divine Work, but to man's freedom; to his condition of limitation or inconsistency.

Unfortunately, subsequent reflection - within a few decades of the Lord's death - began to suffer from the dominant cultural cliché [triggering a ridiculous competition with religions].

Purist expectations on the side have gradually eroded both the sense of the proclamation of the near and superabundant Kingdom and the nature of the Gift, as well as the transparency of its submissive availability to all. 

The Son exclusively proclaimed the longsuffering of the Father: Subject, Motive and Engine of our ability to accept the Vocation, and face the personal journey.

In later reworking, the original parables became allegories, overflowing with symbols with a definite moralistic meaning.

Allegories are generally trivial narratives, veined with impersonal and primal considerations [here, on the "quality of the soil"].

This passage testifies to the difficulty of understanding the Son of God's astounding original call.

He intended to propose a path of Faith to all, precisely to supplant the anxious weight of the oppressive archetype of the various doctrines and behavioural casuistry.

The ethicist yoke does not start from Love: it presupposes stinginess, inadequacy, and shame everywhere; even in the spiritual life [shrunken, perpetually in the balance, always and everywhere insufficient].

The protagonist of the passage (from v.15) is no longer God and His munificent gesture [who spares no expense in sowing His Seed in scattering], but the type of earth: the apostle himself - who would thus become the subject of the spiritual journey.

Disaster.

Guilty always (vv.15-19): you have not watched over the one who snatches the Seed; you have had only initial fervour, you have no root in you, and you are inconstant; and if worried, seduced, or covetous, you will be unfruitful...

Finally, even if you were grounded in 'the beautiful one' (v.20) you should still be careful... because you can have different results: 'one thirty and sixty and a hundred' (v.20).

Impossible to succeed. In short, devotion and obsession seem to go hand in hand [against 'nature'].

But one enters a minefield - against the main lines of any personal inclination and talent, or genuine charisma even of the group.

It seems that it is the woman and the man [those who receive the Word] who must focus on themselves, identify their faults, and - having finally become aware of them and their clear ability - strive to 'improve', on pain of exclusion from the ranks of the 'best'.

All this would induce precisely the most motivated or euphoric people to depersonalise the very character of the Calling, to deny their intimate life, to a crazy expenditure of energy.

Having erased trust in the tide of the Coming Seed - that is, having lost the propulsive dynamism of ordinary existence and its opportunities for life - each one would always find before him those imperfections that then stand in the way.

In fact, those who are unaware of man's diverse and very normal energies [all malleable and potentially preparatory to developments; to be perceived in the round, assumed and invested in] neglect their own essence and turn into those deadly alcoves (of themselves and others) that they proclaim they would never want to be.

As a result of extrinsic or recondite efforts, it is precisely the one-sided 'phenomena', and the sterilised, that end up losing their way to the astonishment of God that displaces.

This from the valorisation of opposites.

Moreover, more than spontaneous souls, precisely such firsts in the class put their real soul inclination in the balance - perhaps mistaking character nature for ballast.

The (historical) result: here we are all ready to attack, each other. It is the picture of today's lacerations; of the usual Guelphs versus Ghibellines.

This is due to the fact that we have gone from the fascinating proposal of Faith, to the fatigue of religious [and moralising] retreat to the 'terrain'.

Land paradoxically increasingly superficial, insubstantial, stony, stifled, unintegrated - one-way and outward!

Parables, and the mystery of blindness: Narration and transmutation

Being lost, for transformation

(Mk 4:10-12.25; cf. Mt 13:10-17; Lk 8:9-10.18)

St Paul expresses the sense of the "mystery of blindness" that contrasts him on his journey with the famous expression "thorn in the flesh": wherever he went, enemies were already ready; and unexpected disagreements.

So it is with us too: fateful events, catastrophes, emergencies, disintegration of the old reassuring certainties - all external and swampy; until recently assessed with a sense of permanence.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings were the best ways to reactivate ourselves, and introduce the energies of renewed Life.

These are those resources or situations that we might never have imagined as allies to our own and others' fulfilment.

Erich Fromm says:

"To live is to be born at every moment. Death occurs when one ceases to be born. Birth is therefore not an act; it is an uninterrupted process. The purpose of life is to be fully born, but the tragedy is that most of us die before we are truly born'.

Indeed, in the climate of turmoil or absurd divergence [that compels us to regenerate] the most neglected intimate virtues sometimes emerge. 

New energies - seeking space - and external powers. Both malleable; unusual, unimaginable, heterodox.

But they find the solutions, the true way out of our problems; the way to a future that is not a mere rearrangement of the previous situation, or of how we imagined 'should have been and done'.

Once a cycle is over, we begin a new phase; perhaps with greater rectitude and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, close to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is acutely generated precisely by detachments.

They bring us into dynamic dialogue with the eternal reservoirs of transmuting forces that inhabit us, and belong to us most.

Primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us such a path 'fishes' the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

In this way, the Lord transmits and opens his proposal using 'images'.

Arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, of culture, of procedures, of what is common.

For a knowledge of oneself and the world that goes beyond that of history and the chronicle; for the active awareness of other contents.

Until labour and chaos itself guide the soul and force it to another beginning, to a different gaze (all shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of a cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, of a narrative exploration - one that does not turn people away from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.

New interpretation of the different Grounds

Evolution of the Alliance in times of crisis: usual flaws, different harmonizations

(Mt 13:18-23)

God is munificent, especially in the age of rebirth from crisis: also a time of generous sowing by the Father.

He remains Farmer of his seedlings - more adventurous and less respectable ones than traditionalist, or fashionable.

Obviously, the Word of the Master and Lord warns against anything that might prevent a new Genesis - first of all, that we often wait to mechanically return to the roles and the old system of things; to the habituated, outward-looking, dirigiste model.

We are perhaps still too tied to cravings and previous economic levels (v.22) overwhelmed by things... not accepting the emergence of opposites that we had never experienced or planned for (v.19).

We still think we can go back to “everything as before”; to the superficiality of the society of the look not rooted in conviction; of the immediately enthusiastic exteriority (vv.20-21) that does not move the eye.

Instead, the dissimilar tide Comes so that we learn to fix our eye within, elsewhere, and beyond - to focus on our own and others' 'unique figure' in the conviviality of differences.

It is likely that the knowledge or way of life that we would like to reaffirm is still tied to pleasing, old, or à la page standards - now inadequate to provide new answers to new questions.

And perhaps this has led us too much to tracing and imitating the disqualified “having-appearing”, instead of the precious being, and that character at the heart of our Call by Name.

It is not out of the question that we have allowed ourselves to become accustomed to decision-making nomenclatures or to the rushing through performance anxiety.

They disregard the «beautiful terrain» of uniqueness, of the unprecedented vocational gift [it would lead to better contact with the disregarded energies of our genuine inclination - nested among the inconsistencies].

Here we are, indeed, all caught up in the concerns of restoring “as before” or “as we should be”...

This, despite the fact that the present traumas are explicit signals to broaden the hitherto stifled consciousnesses (as in «brambles»: v.22).

Eloquent Appeals - even contemporary ones - to launch each side towards the Exodus, for the conquest of renewed freedom; territories of the soul, albeit hidden, in the core of essence.

All the imprint of an empty, formal spirituality that we drag along, still inhibits a good perception of today, and it enervates, takes away intimate strength.

It does not allow one to follow one's own impulse in harmony with the inner world - or one's own tendencies in listening to the unceasing call of the Gospels [which is still being disseminated by unaccredited prophets, to announce the truth and the creation of an alternative world].

Well, something or the whole of life may turn out to be dazed; and more than ever not going the right way and clear: not making us as special as the Sower would wish - precisely because of the stereotypes or the emotional vacuums that steal the Seed, or rather choke the plant; or because of the usual presumption that resumes to dominate immediately and thus prevents us from putting down «deep roots».

We will then have to lay aside the cerebral whirlwinds and unilateral volitional paraphernalia; leaving space and indulging to the new current of quality that is bringing us.

By surrendering to the proposals of the tide of 'coming grains' to guide us beyond the old contentions: to the natural, original energy of Providence, which knows more than we do.

To the Wind of the Spirit that deploys the grains beyond - where you do not expect - it does not matter what percentage is productive (v.23b) but our «beautiful» attunement (v.23a Greek text) that helps to bring us up to speed with the reality of farsighted blending.

They will tidy everything up, otherwise: beyond habitual mental systems - and every result will be more shrewd, in favour of the Peripheries.

Without too much disposition and calculation in the choice of ground [once pretentiously removed and sanitized upstream] we will realize that the Sower will have finally crumbled so many worldly pedestals; not to humiliate anyone, but to bestow surprises of astounding fruitfulness, even for the growth of every creed (all denominations).

His is everywhere and always an exceptional generous and creative Action, put in place to regenerate and empower convictions.

Not to make us redo the usual textbook actions or clichés [and resume playing with performance, or with shackled restraints of widely approved patterns].

If we want to synchronize the same movement as the Sower, we must with Him and like Him move towards the indigence of the various terrains (existential situations).

A special narrowness - even more acute in times of global emergency - that forces one to 'move', to become itinerant, to disseminate everywhere.

And not only collecting the «hundred for one» (v.23) in the usual protected 'centre'.

"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Mk 13: 31). Let us pause a moment to reflect on this prophecy of Christ.

The expression "Heaven and earth" recurs frequently in the Bible in reference to the whole universe, the entire cosmos. Jesus declares that all this is destined to "pass away"; not only the earth but also Heaven, which here is meant in a purely cosmic sense and not as synonymous with God. Sacred Scripture knows no ambiguity: all Creation is marked by finitude, including the elements divinized by ancient mythologies; there is no confusion between Creation and the Creator but rather a decided difference. With this clear distinction Jesus says that his words "will not pass away", that is to say they are part of God and therefore eternal. Even if they were spoken in the concreteness of his earthly existence, they are prophetic words par excellence, as Jesus affirms elsewhere, addressing the heavenly Father: "I have given them the words which you gave me, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me" (Jn 17: 8). In a well-known parable Christ compares himself to the sower and explains that the seed is the word (cf. Mk 4: 14); those who hear it, accept it and bear fruit (cf. Mk 4: 20) take part in the Kingdom of God, that is, they live under his lordship. They remain in the world, but are no longer of the world. They bear within them a seed of eternity a principle of transformation that is already manifest now in a good life, enlivened by charity, and that in the end will produce the resurrection of the flesh. This is the power of Christ's word.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 15 November 2009]

5. "Behold, the sower went out to sow" (Mt 13:3).

The Incarnation of the Word is the greatest and truest "sowing" of the Father. At the end of time the reaping will take place: man will then be subjected to God's judgement. Having received much, he will be asked to account for much.

Man is responsible not only for himself, but also for other creatures. He is so in a global sense: their fate is linked to him in time and beyond time. If he obeys the Creator's design and conforms to it, he leads the whole of creation into the realm of freedom, just as he dragged it with him into the realm of corruption because of original disobedience. This is what St Paul intended to tell us today in the Second Reading.

A mysterious speech, his, but a fascinating one. By accepting Christ, humanity is able to inject a flow of new life into creation. Without Christ, the cosmos itself pays the consequences of human refusal to freely adhere to the plan of divine salvation. For the hope of us and of all creatures, Christ has sown in the human heart a germ of new and immortal life. A seed of salvation that gives creation a new orientation: the glory of the Kingdom of God.

[Pope John Paul II, homily at S. Stefano di Cadore, 11 July 1993]

When Jesus spoke, he used simple words and he also used images which were examples taken from daily life, in order to be easily understood by all. This is why they listened to him willingly and appreciated his message which directly touched their heart. And it was not that complicated language which was difficult to understand, as that used by the Doctors of the Law of that time, which was not easily understood, was very rigid and distanced people. And with this language Jesus made the mystery of the Kingdom of God understood; it was not complicated theology. And one example is that of today’s Gospel passage: the parable of the sower (cf. Mt 13:1-23).

The sower is Jesus. With this image, we can see that he presents himself as one who does not impose himself, but rather offers himself. He does not attract us by conquering us, but by donating himself: he casts seeds. With patience and generosity, he spreads his Word, which is not a cage or a trap, but a seed which can bear fruit. And how can it bear fruit? If we welcome it.

Therefore, the parable concerns us especially. In fact, it speaks more of the soil than of the sower. Jesus carries out, so to speak, a “spiritual X-ray” of our heart, which is the soil on which the seed of the Word falls. Our heart, like the soil, may be good and then the Word bears fruit — and a great deal — but it can also be hard and impermeable. This happens when we hear the Word but it bounces off of us, just as on a street: it does not enter.

Between the good soil and the street; the asphalt — if we throw a seed on the “sanpietrini” (cobblestones), nothing grows — there are however, two intermediate types of soil which, in different amounts, we can have within us. The first, Jesus says, is rocky. Let us try to imagine it: rocky ground is a terrain that “does not have much soil” (cf. Mt 13:5), so the seed sprouts but is unable to put down deep roots. This is how the superficial heart is: it welcomes the Lord, wants to pray, love and bear witness, but does not persevere; it becomes tired and never “takes off”. It is a heart without depth, where the rocks of laziness prevail over the good soil, where love is fickle and fleeting. But whoever welcomes the Lord only when they want to does not bear fruit.

Then, there is the last ground, the thorny one, filled with briars which choke the good plants. What do these thorns represent? “The cares of the world and the delight in riches” (v. 22), as Jesus says explicitly. The thorns are the vices which come to blows with God, which choke his presence: above all these are the idols of worldly wealth, living avidly, for oneself, for possessions and for power. If we cultivate these thorns, we choke God’s growth within us. Each of us can recognize his or her big or small thorns, the vices that inhabit the heart, those more or less deeply rooted briars that God does not like and that prevent us from having a clean heart. It is necessary to tear them out, otherwise the Word cannot bear fruit, the seed will not grow.

Dear brothers and sisters, Jesus invites us today to look inside ourselves: to give thanks for our good soil and to tend the soil that is not yet good. Let us ask ourselves if our heart is open to welcome the seed of the Word of God with faith. Let us ask ourselves if our rocks of laziness are still numerous and large; let us identify our thorns of vice and call them by name. Let us find the courage to reclaim the soil, to effect a nice conversion of our heart, bringing to the Lord in Confession and in prayer our rocks and our thorns. In doing this, Jesus, the Good Sower will be glad to carry out an additional task: purify our hearts by removing the rocks and the thorns which choke his Word.

May the Mother of God, whom we remember today with the title of Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel, unparalleled in welcoming the Word of God and putting it into practice (cf. Lk 8:21), help us to purify our hearts and welcome the Lord’s presence there.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 July 2017]

The Lord wants new people, who listen

(Mc 3,31-35)

In the life of those who are challenged by the relationship of Faith, to become blood relatives of the Father (according to the Spirit) is fundamental Perceive [in profound sense of Listening - not so much materially ‘seeing’].

It’s not worth the «staying outside», or wanting to ‘speak’ directly, to ‘convince’ the Lord (vv.31-32).

It is necessary to intuit and grasp: a path to encounter one’s own intimate layers of being, the truth of inclinations, and of life.

It’s decisive to welcome a satiating Word, which becomes language and culture, which has creative power: given to the ears and discovered inside. Captured in personal history and reality, and transmitted again.

To depart from this founding Core and Eros means detaching from oneself, dispersing oneself in rivulets that do not belong to us, failing into the void ["empty" not understood as a deep energetic state, which prepares new developments].

Paradoxically, both our Freedom and the Salvation of the world are the result of an Obedience - but not external, or others.

It is rather tuning in to the part of the Logos within us that is blooming; really "perfect". No conditioning model.

No a priori correction, nor forcing according to prejudice: rather, an eternal Metamorphosis - accompanied by the Verbum Domini, which mysteriously guides Exodus into Exodus.

No culturally configured expectation would lead to full communion with the great divine spark and fullness in each and every one.

Realisation of the Kingdom and every day - even outside of time.

To know Christ closely it’s not enough to look at him and be taken by sympathy, cultural ties, or religious emotion.

It is the Listening that connects and establishes intimate constraints which do not extinguish - a friendship of engaging harmony with the Master.

Around Jesus the Word of God creates a new Family, with bonds of spiritual kinship closer than what the clan attachment offered.

The Lord wants other people, born precisely from Perception-forebonding.

The union is no longer reserved and exclusive; it becomes accessible to anyone and in any condition - even if he/her were "blind" outside, unable to see what is at hand.

Each one is Church, the Father's House, and thus can realize God's Dream of living with men and walking beside them.

He dwells among us and in us. In his Word, without more ‘distances’.

In this way, all our actions must aim for this purpose: to form the Temple of God, his lineage, the Body of the living Christ.

To achieve this complete goal, essential means is to host the Vocation that transforms us, a much more permanent, sensitive and energetic foundation of any feeling, connection, or emotion.

Indispensable is not an (initial) experience of enthusiasm, but the custody of the Call that interprets life and becomes mentality, dynamism inside that leads [and flows into suburban paths].

There is yet other Temple to be built.

[Tuesday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 28, 2025]