14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [5 July 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Zechariah (9:9–10)

This text could be summarised as follows: for the prophet Zechariah, the Messiah is a King of peace, not of war, and humble like the Servant. ‘Rejoice, O Daughter of Zion’ is a message of consolation in times of war. For thus says the Lord: Rejoice, shout for joy, O Daughter of Jerusalem! ‘Daughter of Zion/Jerusalem’ is not a young woman, but the city itself: it is as if to say ‘Jerusalem, rejoice’. The paradox is that whilst the tone is triumphant, in reality it is a time of war because the prophet Zechariah carried out his mission at the beginning of Greek rule (c. 330 BC), following Alexander’s conquests, and it is an ‘oracle of consolation’. This helps us to understand certain expressions such as ‘He will remove the war chariots from Ephraim and the war horses from Jerusalem; he will break the bow of war and proclaim peace to the nations’. At a time when all seems lost, Zechariah leads Israel to hope in God’s intervention. And when Zechariah speaks of the Messiah, he uses the classic terms of the expected Messiah: a king who brings justice and peace: ‘O God, entrust your judgement to the king… May he rule from sea to sea, from the River to the ends of the earth’ (Ps 71/72).  The boldness lies in proclaiming this hope precisely when all human hope has collapsed. Here are three statements by Zechariah, the last of which is decisive. First: “He will proclaim peace to the nations”: it was only after the exile to Babylon that Israel realised that God’s plan encompasses all humanity.  Second: “He will remove… from Ephraim… from Jerusalem”: mentioning Ephraim (the North) and Jerusalem (the South) together is a subtle way of announcing the restoration and reunification of the ancient kingdom of David. By the time Zechariah was writing, the North and South had long since lost their unity and sovereignty. Third: The real novelty: “poor and riding on a donkey, a colt, the foal of a donkey”. The donkey is a humble mount. Alexander’s conquerors rode on quite different steeds. In Jerusalem, Solomon had introduced the warhorse and the parade horse, and was reproached for his taste for grandeur. A king on a donkey had never been seen before.  Jesus presents himself as the Messiah ‘in the manner of Zechariah’. Isaiah had already glimpsed a humble Messiah (Isaiah 50:6; 53:7). The Servant does not bear the title of ‘king’, but carries out the work of the Messiah and is filled with the Spirit of God.  Zechariah, on the other hand, immediately presents the Messiah as King: he takes up the traditional expectation of the Messiah-King. The novelty lies in combining this royal expectation with the humility of Isaiah’s Servant. For his king is humble: the dreams of grandeur, war and power come to an end. Only one thing matters: establishing peace for his people. The four Gospels describe Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem precisely as the coming of this King riding on a donkey. Matthew (Mt 21:5) and John (12:15) quote Zechariah. Perhaps Jesus himself quoted it to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, whilst ‘explaining to them what was written about himself in the Scriptures’ (Lk 24:27). 

Responsorial Psalm (144/145)

In this psalm, it is clear that God’s kingship is mercy towards all. Moreover, Psalm 144/145 is the only one entitled ‘Praise’. Whilst it is true that the entire Hebrew Psalter is called ‘praises’, this is the only psalm actually titled ‘praise’. The tone is one of wonder; the theme is the kingship of the God of the Covenant. In a celebration of the renewal of the Covenant, Israel contemplates the King who protects them freely, without merit. Hence the royal language: “I will exalt you, my God, my King… your faithful ones will proclaim the glory of your kingdom; they will speak of your mighty deeds”. We can discern in this psalm an “alphabet” of tenderness because it is an “alphabetical” psalm, and from Aleph to Tav—that is, “all of life, from A to Z, is immersed in the Covenant, in God’s tenderness”. The verse-by-verse parallelism is very marked: it should be read by two alternating choirs. And it is precisely this parallelism that is instructive, because in the liturgy two pairs of verses are joined which, at first glance, are surprising: “The Lord is faithful in all his words and good in all his deeds; the Lord upholds those who falter and lifts up all who have fallen”.  “The Lord is faithful in all his words and good in all his deeds / He is close to those who call upon him, to those who call upon him in sincerity.” This means that God’s justice, truth and faithfulness are nothing other than his mercy. The greatest justice in the world is not that of the scales, but that of love. If we live “according to the Spirit of God”, as Paul urges the Romans – Sunday’s second reading – we set out precisely on this path: a justice that is synonymous with mercy. The King spoken of in the psalm is not like the kings of the earth; he is almighty and good: he desires only our happiness. When Israel speaks of the power of this King ‘not like the others’, it knows that his power is nothing but love: ‘The Lord is good; he is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love.’ This is the finest summary of the entire biblical revelation. Israel speaks from experience: how many times, especially during the exile in Babylon, did it call upon God and plead for forgiveness and a return… Now the people gathered in the rebuilt Temple sing: ‘The Lord is merciful and compassionate.’ ‘May all your works praise you, O Lord, and may your faithful bless you’—may they bless you!... O God, my King, I will exalt you and bless your name for ever and ever.’ The task is to sing it loud enough for everyone to know: the abundance of the Lord’s forgiveness, tenderness and compassion is for everyone, for God loves humanity and his ‘merciful plan’ encompasses all humanity and the whole of creation. It is easy to see why Psalm 144/145 has become the morning prayer of the people who were the first to learn to speak to God as to a father. For the Jewish believer, the morning – the dawn of a new day – irresistibly evokes the dawn of the final Day, of the world to come, of the renewed creation. The rabbinic tradition of the Talmud states that whoever recites this psalm three times a day ‘can be sure of being a child of the world to come’.  

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (8:9, 11–13)

For Saint Paul, living according to the Spirit means allowing God’s Love to dwell within us. 

The difficulty with this text lies in the word ‘flesh’. For Paul, it does not have the same meaning as it does in our 21st-century English. We contrast ‘body’ and ‘soul’ and risk a huge misunderstanding. When Paul says ‘flesh’, he does not mean the body; when he says ‘Spirit’, he does not mean the soul. Nor does he set two words—‘flesh’ against ‘Spirit’—but rather two expressions: ‘living according to the flesh’ and ‘living according to the Spirit’. For him, it is a matter of choosing between two ways of life, two masters, two courses of action. For Paul, to live ‘according to the flesh’ is to live without God, relying solely on our own strength, confined within the limits of human intelligence and strength. Obviously, that doesn’t get us very far! Or rather, it can take us very far, but in the wrong direction. This is the theme of the ‘two paths’ that recurs constantly in Paul’s writing. Living without God always ends up meaning living far from God, in a state of estrangement that can only get worse. He described this in the opening chapters of the Letter to the Romans, using images from Genesis: to live according to the flesh is to live like Adam – he wants to become like God, but without God’s help. He is mistaken. We, too, sometimes seek happiness on our own, without Him or in opposition to Him, without realising that this is the best way to harm ourselves. ‘Living according to the Spirit’ is the great news  

because living ‘according to the Spirit’ means allowing oneself to be guided by Him, and thus living by the power of God: it changes everything!  The great news of the text is: ‘The Spirit of God dwells in you’, so ‘you are not under the dominion of the flesh, but under the dominion of the Spirit’.  The verb ‘to dwell’ appears three times today: whoever dwells in a house is the master; it is he who is in charge. We have literally become the Spirit’s dwelling places: it is He who is now in command. Our freedom lies in opening the door to Him. We must, however, consider what place we leave for Him in our home, for we are free to open the door to a greater or lesser extent. In many passages, Paul emphasises our freedom: ‘you are not under the dominion of the flesh’ means that we are no longer slaves to the forces of evil; we now have the strength to ensure that true values triumph: love, peace, truth and justice. We have the strength, but we are not obliged: the choice must be made anew at every moment. The more space we make for the Holy Spirit in our home – that is, the more we do what he suggests on the path of love, kindness and forgiveness – the more truly alive we will be. Before his conversion, Paul faithfully observed many moral and religious rules, but the Spirit of Christ did not dwell within him; he still lived ‘under the dominion of the flesh’. And this could have led him to violence and murder, in perfect good faith. Now his whole life is inspired by the Spirit of Christ, to the point of saying: ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me’ (Gal 2:20). Two consequences can be drawn for us who are baptised: 1) We shall rise with Christ: a promise for the future. ‘The Spirit will exercise his power in us and bring to fulfilment in us what he brought to fulfilment in Jesus’ (Rom 8:11).  2) Even now, our lives are transformed just as Paul’s was, because we are now ‘under the rule of the Spirit’. ‘I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live,’ proclaimed Ezekiel (37:14). Paul often speaks of the new spiritual life that springs from Baptism: whilst remaining in our mortal bodies, we can already live by the Spirit of Christ. This is what John calls ‘eternal life’. In practical terms: the Spirit is Love. Simply replace ‘Spirit’ with ‘Love’, and to live according to the Spirit is to allow Him to inspire our words and deeds of love.  A few chapters earlier, Paul wrote to the Romans: ‘God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us’ (Rom 5:5). And to the Galatians he explains the fruits of the Spirit: ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control’ (Gal 5:22): in a word, it is love expressed in all the concrete circumstances of life.  Paul is the heir to the prophets: they all affirm that our relationship with God is reflected in the quality of our relationship with others. In the Servant Songs, Isaiah affirms that to live according to the Spirit of God is to love and serve one’s brothers and sisters. As John says: ‘Whoever does not love remains in death… We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers and sisters’ (1 John 3:14). 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (11:25–30)

In this text, we find the central theme in Jesus’ ‘gentle yoke and light burden’, which is, in fact, the Law of love that brings rest: ‘ ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.’ What is the ‘yoke’?  The yoke is a heavy, solid piece of wood that joins two oxen for ploughing. They join forces, and the stronger one sets the pace. Figuratively speaking, ‘taking up the yoke’ means binding oneself to someone to walk at the same pace, yoked to the same task. In the Old Testament and in Judaism, the expression was commonly used to refer to the Covenant: ‘to take up the yoke of the Torah’, that is, to commit oneself to following God’s Law, knowing that all the strength of the ‘team’ comes from God himself. For a Jew, the service of the Torah is not an unbearable burden; it is the path to true happiness. Ben Sirach said: “You will find your rest in it, and it will become your joy” (Sir 6:28). Jesus takes up this image, linking it to the yoke of the Torah and to rest: “Take my yoke upon you, become my disciples, practise my commandments, and you will find rest for your souls”.  And he adds: “Yes, my yoke is easy to bear and my burden is light.” One senses a criticism of certain Pharisees who had turned the Law into a litany of meticulous obligations. Of them, Jesus says: “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders; but they themselves are not willing to move them even with a finger” (Mt 23:4). Meanwhile, the majority of the people struggled to observe all the commandments imposed by the religious authorities and felt the contempt directed at them. Jesus invites his disciples to lay aside these burdens that are too heavy: ‘Take my yoke upon you… my yoke is easy and my burden is light’. His yoke is simply the law of love, and it is He who gives us the strength to bear it. ‘Rest’ was also a familiar word. The Old Testament presented the Promised Land as the place of rest given by God to his people. Conversely, when the people were unfaithful, Psalm 94/95 expressed God’s sorrow: ‘This people’s heart is led astray… they shall not enter my rest’. Taking up that psalm, the Letter to the Hebrews announces a new day when, with Christ, we shall enter God’s rest with confidence: ‘Let us therefore strive to enter that rest’ (Heb 4:11). The absolute novelty is that Jesus identifies himself with God, and he alone can say, ‘I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you… my yoke is easy…’. The religious leaders were annoyed by this, whilst those who were weary under the weight of their burdens were drawn to the respect and care he showed to each one.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 9:1-8)

The episode testifies to the hard clash between synagogue and the first fraternities of Faith, where without prior conditions of ritual or legal purity everyone was invited to share canteen and the breaking of Bread.

On the ideal proxy of the Lord, in the churches of Galilee and Syria there was already a fraternal practice [unknown to others] of mutual forgiveness and even cancellation of debts incurred, up to the communion of goods.

Reality able to get back on its feet and make any person proceed, even the miserable - starting from their conscience (v.2), suffocated by a religion that emphaized the sense of unworthiness.

According to popular belief, the conditions of scarcity or misfortune were a punishment.

Conversely, Jesus is the One who restores a horizon of authenticity to believing, new awareness and hope to the person suffering from paralysis - that is, unable to go towards God and towards men.

«Having risen, take your bed and go to your house» (v.6; cf. Mk 2:11; Lk 5:24).

Starting from what we are - already full of resources, beyond all appearances - we live by faith the state of the «Son of man»: that of the ‘risen’ sons, those who manifest person in fullness [in the divine condition].

In Christ we can free ourselves from the constraints that made us live horizontal and ankylosed.

Recovering dignity, we can now stand upright and promote life; then return to the House that is truly ours (vv.6-7; cf. Mk 2:10-12; Lk 9:24-25).

The whole story of the people was conditioned by obsessions with impurity and sin.

Instead, the Master reveals that the divine propensity is only to forgive in order to value - and the attitude of the man of Faith, be reborn again and help to do so.

In fact, the gratuitousness of the Father can be seen from the action of expectation and understanding exercised by the men of God: those able to chisel healthy environments.

Not only by their own’s virtue, but because tolerance introduces new forces, unknown; different powers, which overturn situations.

They allow other creative energies to pass and regenerate the malfunctioning - vice versa deadly, unfortunately, where we do not promote each other.

Only Jesus is the One who makes visible and evident the healing that seemed impossible mission. And before physics, making us flourish again from the fears of false devotion, which imposes absurd embankments on autonomy.

His proposal does not sink us under a heap of impersonal arrogances. The Lord heals the blocked, puts them back in the race.

Imperfection is not an expression of guilt, but a condition - and in any case sin is not an absolute force (v.3).

On the contrary, the impediment becomes a paradoxical reason to seek 'therapy', and vis-à-vis. Unthinkable, perhaps offensive, for the outline.

Eccentric configurations - thought to be miserable - do indeed contain secret doors, immense virtues, and the cure itself.

Indeed, they lead to a new existence. They urge, and “oblige” us to an immediate relationship with our Lord. Almost as if seeking His ‘likeness’.

Unusual crossroads of Tenderness and Faith.

[Thursday 13th wk. in O.T.  July 2, 2026]

(Mt 9:1-8)

The episode bears witness to the harsh clash between synagogue and early Faith fraternities, where without prior conditions of ritual or legal purity all were invited to share the table and the breaking of bread.

On the Lord's ideal delegation, in the churches of Galilee and Syria, a fraternal practice (unknown to others) of mutual forgiveness and even cancellation of contracted debts, up to the communion of goods, was already in force.

Realities capable of putting any person back on their feet and moving forward, even the wretched - starting with their conscience (v.2), stifled by a religion that accentuated the sense of unworthiness.

According to popular belief, conditions of penury or misfortune were a punishment.

Jesus, on the other hand, is the One who restores a horizon of authenticity to believing, new awareness and hope to the person suffering from paralysis - that is, unable to go towards God and towards men.

"Having risen, take up your bed and go to your house" (v.6; cf. Mk 2:11; Lk 5:24).

Starting from what we are - already resourceful, beyond all appearances - we live by Faith the state of the "Son of Man": that of the risen, those who manifest man in fullness (in the divine condition).

In Christ we can free ourselves from the constraints that made us live horizontal and ankylosed.

Recovering dignity, we can now stand upright and promote life; thus return to the House that is truly ours (vv.6-7; cf. Mk 2:10-12; Lk 9:24-25).

For the experts, the forgiveness announced by the Lord is not only an offence against their supposed prestige and spiritual rank, but a sacrilege and blasphemy.

After all, how to appeal to the masses - on the part of these destructive leaders - if not by intimidating them and making them feel inadequate, sterile, incapable, unempowered, with no way out?

The whole life of the people was conditioned by obsessions of impurity and sin.

Instead, the Master reveals that the divine propensity is only to forgive in order to enhance - and the attitude of - the man of Faith, to be born again and to help do so.

Indeed, the Father's gratuitousness is seen in the action of expectation and understanding exercised by the men of God: those capable of chiselling healthy environments.

Not only by their own virtue, but because tolerance introduces new, unknown forces; different powers, which overturn situations.

They allow other creative and regenerating energies to flow through the unhealthy - vice versa deadly, unfortunately, where one does not promote oneself.

Only Jesus is the One who makes visible and manifest the healing that seemed mission impossible. And before the physical, making us flourish again from the fears of false devotion, which imposes absurd curbs on autonomy.

His proposal does not drown us under a heap of impersonal arrogance. It heals the blocked, puts them back in the race.

"Jesus has the power not only to heal the sick body, but also to forgive sins; and indeed, physical healing is a sign of the spiritual healing that his forgiveness produces. Indeed, sin is a kind of paralysis of the spirit from which only the power of God's merciful love can free us, enabling us to get back up and get back on the path of good" [Pope Benedict, Angelus 22 February 2009].

The Lord's "brothers" (cf. parallel passages Mt 9:1-8 and Lk 5:17-26) do all they can to lead the needy to the Master.

Often, however, they find themselves before a crowd of hijackers of the Sacred that does not allow for a face-to-face, personal, immediate relationship.

The critical impetus and love for the needs of the needy for a full life must then overcome the sense of 'cultural', moral, doctrinal and ritual belonging - which only traces and reiterates.

No sign of joy from the authorities (Mt 9:3; Mk 2:6-8; Lk 5:21) - but the people are enthusiastic (Mt 9:8; Mk 2:12; Lk 5:26). Why?

Jesus teaches and heals. He does not proclaim the God of religions, but a Father - an attractive figure, who does not threaten, nor punish, but welcomes, dialogues, forgives, makes grow.

The opposite of what was conveyed by the official guides, linked to the idea of an archaic, suspicious and prejudiced divinity, which discriminated between friend and foe.

The Father expresses himself in non-oppressive forms, in the manner of the family and inter-human covenant: he does not enjoy the perfect, sterilised and pure - he offers his Love to all without requirements.

For imperfection is not an expression of guilt, but a condition - and in any case sin is not an absolute force (v.3).

It is this awareness that gives rise to liberated people and a new order: 'to forge bonds of unity, of common projects, of shared hopes' [Fratelli Tutti, n.287].

The Lord's co-workers bring to Him all the paralytics, that is, those who are stuck and continue to lie in their stretchers (where perhaps those of common opinion have laid them down).

These are people whose lives seem to proceed neither in the direction of the true God nor to others. Nor can they meet themselves.

Only personal contact with Christ can release these vegetating corpses from their depressing pond.

The friends of God "presented him a paralytic, lying on a bed" (Mt 9:2): they come from everywhere, from the four cardinal points (cf. Mk 2:3); from very different, even opposite origins - which you do not expect.

They expose themselves to lead the needy to the Master, but sometimes find themselves in front of an impermeable crowd (precisely, of kidnappers of the Sacred) that does not allow a direct, face-to-face personal relationship.

They do not let us in - instead we want to put ourselves before Him (v.4): sometimes we are like blackmailers and subjected to procedures, otherwise you do not pass; you are out.

Paraphrasing Pope Francis's third encyclical again, we could say that even in the selective or hierarchical access paths of the Faith "the lack of dialogue means that no one, in the individual sectors, is concerned with the common good, but rather with obtaining the advantages that power procures, or, at best, with imposing one's own way of thinking" [no.202].

The Faith thinks and believes in "an open world where there is room for everyone, which includes the weakest and respects different cultures" [FT no.155].

Some insufferable 'synagogues' conversely advocate 'a binary division' [FT No.156] that attempts to classify.

There are exclusive, refractory cliques and clubs which claim to appropriate poor Jesus... backwards.

Hence their 'synagogues' or 'houses of prayer' must be uncovered and thrown wide open (v.4) - with extreme decision.

Such 'seats' turn God's presence on earth upside down and disrupt the lives of the derelicts, who have real urgencies - not interest in cultivating unintelligible formulas, cultic purities or other sophistications.

No more proper compliments, and 'proper' customary procedures!

Only in this way does man regenerate and discover his own divine powers - which are then the humanising ones: to put himself and his brothers and sisters back on their feet.

With Christ, one advances without any more regulated authorisations to beg (sometimes to scandalous dummies) that make life pale.

So, let us note that there are no steps taken, but only the unusual initiative overcomes the pond of devout structures taken hostage by regulars or disembodied thinkers. Where one would only have to queue up, wait one's turn, be content... and doze off or disperse.

The critical impetus and love for the full, discerning life needs of all of us in need must overcome the sense of feigned collective compactness. 

It must outclass all 'cultural', moral, doctrinal and ritualistic affiliations - which it only makes up and reiterates.

Indeed, no sign of joy from the authorities (Mt 9:3; Mk 2:6-8; Lk 5:21) - but the people are enthusiastic (Mt 9:8; Mk 2:12; Lk 5:26).

It is obvious that the customary people judge Jesus a blasphemer: they have been educated "in this fear and distrust" [FT no.152].

They do not love humanity, but rather their doctrines, their codes, their milestones; a few beautiful rubrics - from purely ritualistic holiness. All papier-mâché.

They do not protect people, but only their self-interested connections, correct protocols, and acquired positions; possibly fashions of thought for their own benefit - that hinder our development.

In short, we are called to choose in a very unusual way, compared to the cliché of popular moralistic preaching - which has never been able to reconcile esteem... with imperfection, error, diversity.

According to the Gospels, there is another, decisive crossroads: the path of the defence of the privileges of a caste that gags God in the name of God, or the path of the impelling, universal desire to live to the full.

To this we are called, as opposed to conformist ways: to choose in an unusual, profound and decisive way, to reconcile uniqueness, truth, imperfection, our exceptionalism.

Otherwise, the soul rebels. It wants to be with Jesus in a frontal position, not behind the crowd, albeit of believers (whether démodé or à la page).

The passage from the Synoptics makes it clear that the problem of the 'paralytic' is not his discomfort, his sense of oppression, his apparent misfortune.

These are not the breaks in his relationship with life and with God.

On the contrary, the impediment becomes a paradoxical motive for seeking 'therapy', and vis-à-vis. Unthinkable, perhaps offensive, for the outline.

In fact, eccentric configurations - considered miserable - contain secret doors, immense virtues, and the cure itself.

Indeed, they lead to a new existence. They urge, and 'oblige' us to an immediate relationship with our Lord. Almost as if seeking His likeness.

Breathing in the common thought and tracing the trajectories of others, even those considered "intimate to God", the stiffening would have remained.

No unpredictable Salvation would have broken through.In short, according to the Gospels there is only one non-negotiable, crossroads, decisive value: the desire to live fully, in a truly integrated way; in the first person.

Unusual crossroads of Tenderness and Faith.

To internalise and live the message:

What arouses your sense of admiration for the Power of God? Are you excited by physical or inner miracles?

Where do you most frequently hear: "My son, your sins are forgiven (...) Rise up and walk"? Do the others seem to you to be healthy spiritual civilisations?

What kind are your works of faith? In sectors?

Marked by successful milestones and negotiations with the wary installed (so that they are accepted and mistaken for Tenderness)?

Double Healing

The passage from the Gospel of St Matthew, which is read on the 18th Sunday after Pentecost, provides the Holy Father with a high topic for his Homily.

It is one of the many episodes from the life of the Lord, which prepare us to be fervently united with Him and to celebrate the Divine Mysteries well.

Each page of the Gospel has its own focal, dramatic point, around which the scene of the recalled episode and the faithful account revolve.

For the prodigious and instantaneous healing of the paralytic, the apostle St Matthew is more sober than the other synoptics, St Mark and St Luke. These add more extensive details, including that of the opening of the roof in the room where Jesus was, in order to lower the sick man with his bed, given the enormous crowd that was crowding the entrance.

The hope of the pitiful companions is evident: they almost want to force Jesus to take care of the unexpected guest and begin a dialogue with him.

THE TWOFOLD HEALING OF THE PARALYTIC

Here we immediately find ourselves at a peak of wonder and grace. The Lord, with a very sweet, beautiful, regenerative word, addresses the paralytic, saying: 'Trust, you thread . . .": Have confidence, my son. And then? Behold: "Remittuntur tibi peccata tua": Your sins are forgiven you. Amazement of all present. It was not for this that they had brought the sick man, but that he might be freed from his immobility. They did not expect Jesus to speak of the poor man's sins: were sins, then, an impediment to healing?

Jesus reads the hearts of those around him: his first concern is to remove the moral sickness, and he declares this. Hence, after the first surprise, other comments and criticisms, indeed the bitter and vehement rebuke. Who is it that forgives sins? Only God can forgive them; God alone can settle the accounts between Him and creatures. Why, then, the arbitrary, indeed, the reckless act, even a blasphemy? Then Jesus, seeing their thoughts, adds: "Why do you think evil in your hearts? What is easier to say: your sins are forgiven you, or to say: get up, and walk?". In the same instant he also performs the physical miracle, saying to the paralytic: 'Arise, take up your bed and return to your home'.

The most interesting point, in this episode, is that Jesus, in front of an immobilised and unhappy poor man, discovers an even greater unhappiness, an even more acute misery. He wants, first of all, to take care of his moral health; and, good and omnipotent in the highest degree, He performs the miracle of spiritual healing before the physical one.

He himself makes the comparison: Which of the two healings is the easier? Of the soul or of the body?: and concludes by showing that the well-being of the spirit is far more important than the physical.

This gives rise to some questions about one of the most interesting aspects of the Gospel.

What does Jesus see in men? Jesus entered the world and converses with us, the human race. Well, how does he judge us? What does his eye discern in us? As we examine ourselves, we see that before Jesus there is no secret. For Him everything is transparent. Indeed, if we want to understand something beautiful in the Gospel, we will always have to think that the scenes unfolding around Jesus have a crystal-clear, singular, inimitable clarity for Him, Jesus sees everything. St John, in one of the first chapters of his Gospel, states precisely that the Saviour sciebat quid esset in homine. Jesus knows what is in man. During His earthly life, men stand before Him in transparency. Jesus passes through them with his gaze and fully knows what they are, what they do, what they think: 'Deus intuetur cor': God discerns the heart.

GOD'S GAZE INTO THE HUMAN HEART

The permanent quest, so accentuated in modern man, to intuit the secret of man, to know everything about him, in Jesus is an infallible, divine endowment. He knows human reality in its entirety and in its deepest and most arcane individual notes. He opens wide all the secret doors of our inner hiding places; our thoughts are manifest to Him: nothing, nothing can be concealed from Him. To appear, therefore, before Him and be considered in every detail is an instantaneous fact, for He observes and judges everything in us.

And then we can ask ourselves: But, then, what does He see? The positive values and faults of man. In children Jesus sees an angelic innocence and rejoices in it, because they are the authentic citizens of the heavenly kingdom. In the little ones, the Son of God detects the harmonious nature that his creative hand has imprinted in these innocent creatures. He therefore immensely enjoys their companionship, vivacity and enchantment; in a word, the beauty of God reflected in the human face.

And again: what do you notice, for example, in the Samaritan woman? Even that poor creature is dismayed. Oh yes! - she exclaims - this Prophet has read my spirit: he knows who I am! And here she goes, crying out to her countrymen: a great Prophet has come; he has said everything about my life without knowing me! What, moreover, will the Divine Master see in the imploring Magdalene whom everyone would like to crush with contempt and ruthless public accusation? Poor humanity to be redeemed and saved. Deus dilexit mundum! God observes the depths of the human heart, which, even beneath the surface of sin and disorder, still possesses a wonderful wealth of love; Jesus with his gaze draws it out, makes it overflow from the oppressed soul. To Jesus, therefore, nothing escapes of what is in men, of their total reality, in which good and evil are.

INCONSISTENCIES AND DISTORTIONS IN HUMAN THINKING

The second question is: And what do men, with their modern education, see? They are also inconsistent here. First of all, you will no longer find in the language of decent people today, in books, in the things that speak of men, the dreadful word that, on the other hand, is so frequent in the religious world, in our world, especially in the world close to God: the word sin. Men, in today's judgements, are no longer considered sinners. They are catalogued as healthy, sick, good, strong, weak, rich, poor, wise, ignorant; but the word sin is never encountered. And it does not return because, having detached the human intellect from divine wisdom, the concept of sin has been lost. One of the most penetrating and serious words of the Supreme Pontiff Pius XII of v. m. is this: 'the modern world has lost the sense of sin'; that is, what the rupture of relations with God, caused precisely by sin, is. The world no longer intends to dwell on such relationships. And so contemporary philosophy of man starts from an aprioristic optimism. What, for example, does pedagogy say? Man is good; it is society that will make him bad; but, in itself, let him develop spontaneously and in a favourable environment, he will be, by nature, probable and virtuous. Thus is adopted as the norm, a very liberal, very easy indulgence, which paves the way for all sorts of experiences and caprices, since, admitting all rights in man, he must be allowed to express them in his individual faculties. Evil, therefore, does not exist. This famous original sin - which is the first truth about man - is no longer admitted and described in the diagnosis that the world today wants to draw of itself.

And here is the inconsistency. While the point of departure is so certain, the point of arrival, the terminal judgement that our world makes on man, what is it? We are not engaging in psychoanalysis here, we are merely adhering to literary documentation: and we are not mistaken in asserting that the judgement given, today, by man of himself, with his own richest and most persistent testimony, one might even say, the most monotonous, is that of despair: thus, looked at from within, man is a horrible thing. How often do those who present themselves before us with a sympathetic, good-natured, naive appearance, hide, on the contrary, the most putrid and deformed whitewashed sepulchre!

See if there is an optimistic film in the modern production; see if there is a single presentable book in the literary prizes, precisely in these exceedingly copious times, that declares that man is still good, that virtues still exist. On the contrary, the analysis of the mire, of human perversion, is rampant; and with it, the tacit, but inexorable sentence, given as definitive: man is incurable. Here is the dark consequence. One comes to regard man as an unhappy being. Following the direction of these eyes that become implacable and even discerning, one finds nothing but evil, always and desperately evil!

LET THE DIVINE IMAGE SHINE IN EVERY SOUL

Jesus also sees: and he looks at us, who are of the poor people with so many ills. To the paralytic who comes before him, he explains that there are paralyses even more serious and more severe than the physical one. You have many sins: I forgive you, I forgive you! Jesus is the absolute deliverer. He, having urged in us, with this light of his, an examination of conscience, through which guilt is felt but also redemption, enters the soul like a torrent of joy, goodness and love. If you want it,' he comforts us, 'I will give you back your integrity, your innocence, the grace to truly feel what you must be, restored to your stature, your original beauty, and as the Lord created you in his image and likeness.

Jesus is the divine author of the ineffable redemption: one understands, then, how the Gospel, as long as there is a world of men troubled by their own sins, misery, unhappiness, despair, the very Gospel among men will always stir an echo that can never fade. Why? Because not only is it a word of truth - and here men agree - but it is also a light of hope that men cannot give to themselves.

What shall we do, in order to grasp something useful and salutary from today's Gospel page? We will try to let the Lord look at us; to present ourselves to Him with sincere humility. It is the examination of conscience, let us say more: it is the approaching of that sacrament of penance, which truly scrutinises our innermost being and restores truth and justice to our souls. Everyone may say: with the groaning of pain I would not know how to heal myself; but if Thou wilt, O Lord, Thy word is enough.

"TRUST, THREADS"

That word will never fail us. God's mercy is an inexhaustible source that Christ brought into the world precisely with the desire, the eagerness to seek us out, to chase us and repeat to us: I loved you; I came for you, so that you might understand who you are and how crippled and wretched you are. But trust, O son, these your miseries are forgiven you. Indeed: with the moral miseries to a great extent the physical ones may also be healed. Think what would be the face of the world, if men's sins were removed, if moral faults were removed! It is not that they are two consequent things: on other pages of the Gospel, the Lord will say that physical misfortune is not, in itself, fatally linked to moral misfortune. Just remember the man born blind, just think of the many sufferings of the righteous. The fact remains, however, that if the many moral miseries were healed, our life would be much better, much healthier, and more hygienic even; it would be much happier. The unity of man is a reality: it involves interference between one world and the other: the moral and the material; the inner and the outer.

That is why today we will go to Jesus, offering the Divine Sacrifice: we too will present ourselves before Him like the paralytic. With all humility we will ask Him to renew trust in His omnipotence and goodness in our souls. Each one will plead: Lord, save me: You alone have words of eternal life.

(Pope Paul VI, homily 20 September 1964)

Jesus has the power not only to heal a sick body but also to forgive sins; indeed, the physical recovery is a sign of the spiritual healing that his forgiveness produces. Sin is effectively a sort of paralysis of the spirit from which only the power of God's merciful love can set us free, allowing us to rise again and continue on the path of goodness.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 22 February 2009]

1. A text by Saint Augustine offers us the key to interpreting Christ's miracles as signs of his saving power: "The fact that he became man for us has been of much greater benefit to our salvation than the miracles he performed among us; and it is more important than the fact that he healed the diseases of the body destined to die" (S. Augustini, In Io. Ev. Tr., 17, 1). In order to this health of the soul and the redemption of the whole world, Jesus also performed miracles of a corporal order. And so the theme of the present catechesis is as follows: through the "miracles, wonders and signs" he performed, Jesus Christ manifested his power to save man from the evil that threatens the immortal soul and his vocation to union with God.

2. This is what is revealed in a special way in the healing of the paralytic in Capernaum. The people who brought him, unable to enter through the door into the house where Jesus teaches, lower the sick man through an opening in the roof, so that the poor man comes to stand at the feet of the Master. "Jesus, seeing their faith, said to the paralytic, 'Son, your sins are forgiven you'". These words arouse suspicion of blasphemy in some of those present: "This man blasphemes! Who can forgive sins but God alone?". Almost in response to those who had thought so, Jesus addresses those present with the words: "What is easier: to say to the paralytic: Your sins are forgiven, or to say: Get up, take up your bed, and walk? Now, so that you may know that the Son of Man has the power on earth to forgive sins, I command you,' he said to the paralytic, 'Get up, take up your cot, and go to your house. He got up, took up his cot, and went out in the presence of all" (cf. Mk 2:1-12 and also Mt 9:1-8; Lk 5:18-26; Lk 5:25).

Jesus himself explains here that the miracle of healing the paralytic is a sign of the saving power by which he forgives sins. Jesus performs this sign to show that he has come as the Saviour of the world, whose main task is to free man from spiritual evil, the evil that separates man from God and prevents salvation in God, which is precisely sin.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 11 November 1987]

To us too, Jesus says: “Rise, take your life as it is; take it up and go on. Do not fear; go on with your pallet — ‘But, Lord, it is not the latest model...’ — Go on, with that pallet”, which may be “ugly, perhaps, but go on! It is your life; it is your joy”.

Thus, the first question the Lord asks everyone today is: “Do you want to be healed?”. And if the answer is “Yes, Lord”, Jesus exhorts: “Rise!”. Thus, the Pontiff concluded, recalling the antiphon of the day’s Mass (“All who are thirsty, come to the waters ... though you have no money, come and drink with joy”), if “we say to the Lord: ‘Yes, I want to be healed. Yes, Lord, help me; I want to get up’, we will know what the joy of salvation is”.

[Pope Francis, at St. Martha 28 March 2017]

(Mt 8:28-34)

In all religions, man is invited to bind himself to divine consent to receive light and strength, submitting to his authority.

The dilemma of the Judaizing assemblies of Galilee and Syria - reflected here - is whether to close or open the circuit of the sacred.

And whether to customize, or step back and repeat.

The passage associates the icons of the sea (vv.27.32) and of the wandering possessed ones, separated from God and people; deprived of a regenerating inner strength.

The optics is that of our baptismal purification in Christ, which drowns impurities and germs of death.

In this way: those who have not yet met Jesus proceed haphazardly, they are «furious» (v.28); without criterion or goal.

The only constant these souls have in common is to put fear into others: they live in a belligerent, disorderly, pre-human situation, impeded in themselves and of a hindrance to all (v.28).

But the fact appeared within the norm (v.29).

In Semitic literature, the image of «sea» alludes to disordered forces, aimlessly and not in accordance with God's project on woman and man.

Powers that generate chaos in our existence.

It is the bitter panorama of a world that loses the foundation of its being and becoming.

Ambit assiduously forced to groping... to solve problems and not permanently lose the vitality-wave.

«Pig» [symbol of paganism] is a figure of that kind of irremediable contamination that prevented the human being from having a relationship with God - and feeling his welcome.

The critical moment is the Presence of the Lord: suddenly the evil crumbles completely, revealing its emptiness - unexpectedly devoid of all solidity.

A disproportion takes over: between what seemed fearful and invincible, and the nothingness that appearances were masking (v.31).

Imperial ideology was threatening and destructive. It leveraged on people's fears in order to subdue consciences.

This was the situation of persons - crumbled inside - before Jesus arrival.

Power then ideologically manipulated popular beliefs about demons - to shatter singular personalities and accentuate the surrender of the already oppressed masses.

Conversely, in the experience of life’s victory over death, early Christian communities gained breath of Faith and a return to oneself - as a soul therapy.

They experienced a kind of disproportion and self-control, despite defeats in preaching.

The ancient assembly that once had the horror of contaminations began to open the doors of the purist ghetto, making everyone participate.

The church broke away from common beliefs, which transmitted perverse competitions, and to the weak a feeling of mortifying awe - lack of autonomy and conscience.

Of course, the early heralds were quick to realize that the new sense of freedom produced a twofold feeling: oppressed men do not always want to be freed from their alienations and torments.

Jesus fascinates and consternates. He precipitates inconsistent bonds, and common idols.

His Message is decisive and beneficial, but it forces us to upset habits, purposes, and every closure.

[Wednesday 13th wk. in O.T.  July 1st, 2026]

(Mt 8:28-34)

After the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the only schools of Judaism that survived were those of the Pharisees and the Jewish Christians.

Both had maintained that the coming of the Messiah had nothing to do with direct political struggle against the Romans.

This was despite their opposition to the unsustainable ideology of power, oppression and exploitation of the humble.

However, while the Pharisees were reorganising and gradually beginning to dominate the Jewish community that wanted to rebuild itself, in the mid-70s, the communities of Mt. were living under oppression in Syria and Galilee.

All this took place in the marginalisation of the empire and the rejection of their co-religionists [who considered them traitors to their roots].

In this passage of the Gospel, the evangelist wants to encourage and motivate the members of the church.

Matthew emphasises the 'power' of Jesus' life, who manifests himself as Lord even in difficult territories, ages and times.

In an unclean and deathly place ('tombs'), precisely among the unclean 'pigs', i.e. those most separated from God [probably an image-epithet of some Roman legions: Mk 5:9], the Lord exercises an internal regenerating force.

The background scenario is a figure of 'baptismal immersion' and its outcomes, which are also critical from a family and social point of view.

In short: those who have not yet encountered Jesus proceed haphazardly, they are 'furious' (v. 28); without criteria or goal.

The only constant that unites these souls is that they frighten others: they live in a savage, disordered, pre-human situation, impeded in themselves and a hindrance to everyone (v. 28).

But this seemed normal (v. 29)...

The turning point is the new Presence: suddenly, evil crumbles completely, revealing its emptiness - unexpectedly devoid of any solidity.

A disproportion arises: between what seemed frightening and invincible, and the nothingness that appearances were masking (v. 31).

The ideology of domination seemed to everyone to be something extraordinary; suddenly it disintegrates.

Faced with the true Power of Life, the two spontaneously convert and ask for Baptism: a gesture of immersion in the waves of primordial chaos, to drown (v. 32) their self-destructive spirits.

In short: Christ and his vital energy are always visiting our territory, whatever it may be.

With Him, we can recover; we are not marked for life.

And there is no need for exhausting climbs or progressions, long and unsustainable trials: everything can happen in an instant.

But autonomy frightens an inert, consolidated, habitual society - alerted by the guardians of the ancient world (v.33).

For some, it is better to be sheep and carve out their usual little securities [even though they do not feel welcomed by God, nor totally alive] than to take on the burden of managing the new Freedom.

The ancient 'onions of Egypt' seem more succulent: chosen out of an atavistic fear of a new life.

It is like saying: better a religion that subjugates us and feeds our fears and anxieties than the spirit of enterprise and risk in Faith.

An unpredictable existence, which would otherwise put us back in the game, which would draw on the strength of life itself and the regenerated autonomy of people in Christ.

On the other hand, many prefer to hold on to their little demons, and so they expel Him as undesirable (v. 34).

The Gospels insist on describing the victory of believers over the forces of evil and death.

At the time of Matthew, these were the backbone of Eastern mystery beliefs [which were spreading].

This is to encourage us to overcome the swamp of addiction and the satanic uncertainties instilled by religions that fill hearts with empty spirituality.

And to continue on the good path that finally does not alienate simple people, nor subjugates society and the world - still today here and there inoculated with unfounded terrors and punishments.

To internalise and live the message:

Even gently, how many times have you prayed to Jesus to stay away from your territory?

Have you already become accustomed to Him, or do you feel yourself being activated?

From what alienating power has faith in Christ saved you?

What amazing example do you have to offer?

Jesus and his disciples reached the other side

In all religions, man is invited to bind himself to divine approval in order to receive light and strength, submitting himself to His authority.

The dilemma of the Roman assemblies - reflected here - is whether to close or, conversely, open the circuit of the sacred.

And whether to personalise, or retreat and repeat.

The passage from Mark associates the icons of the sea, the cemetery, the wandering demoniac, and the Roman legions.

The perspective is that of our baptismal purification in Christ, which drowns impurity and the seeds of death.

In Semitic literature, the image of the 'sea' alludes to disorderly forces, aimless and not in accordance with God's plan for man.

Powers that generate chaos in our existence.'Cemetery' is the bitter panorama of a world that loses the foundation of its being and becoming.

A circle assiduously forced to grope around... to solve problems and not lose the vital wave forever.

The 'pig' is a figure of that kind of irremediable contamination [symbol of paganism] that prevented human beings from relating to God - and feeling His welcome.

'Legion' is the name of every power (here religious, political and military) that stifled the yearning for happiness, producing confusion, marginalisation and inner division.

It was the milieu and determining factor of processes that worsened the very conditions of poverty.

The imperial ideology was threatening and destructive. It played on people's fears in order to subjugate their consciences.

This was the situation of the people - crumbling inside - before the arrival of Jesus.

The legions then ideologically manipulated popular beliefs about demons in order to shatter individual personalities and accentuate the submissiveness of the already oppressed masses.

Conversely, in the experience of the victory of life over death, the early Christian communities experienced a breath of faith and a return to themselves, like a therapy for the soul.

They lived a kind of disproportion and self-control, despite their defeats in preaching.

The ancient assembly that had once abhorred contamination began to open the doors of the purist ghetto, making everyone participants.

The church detached itself from the common beliefs in the capital of the empire, which conveyed perverse competition and a sense of mortifying subjugation to the weak - a lack of autonomy and conscience.

Of course, the first heralds immediately realised that the new sense of freedom produced a double feeling: the oppressed man does not always want to be freed from his alienation and torments.

Jesus fascinates and disconcerts. He breaks down insubstantial bonds and common idols.

His message is decisive and beneficial, but it forces us to disrupt habits, goals, and all forms of closure.

God is not a ticket inspector

(Mk 5:18-20)

We are called to a more intense enjoyment of existence and to a new "Witness".

The latter does not involve effort, sacrifice or facile moralism.

The Lord does not want us to mix with the sick officialdom of those who crowd around him, but rather to follow our own path.

Jesus' invitation (Mk 5:19) is astonishing.

Ideological demons mortify the being and must be cast out, even if the devout masses are satisfied with them.

Perhaps people have become accustomed to welcoming them into the environment they love, and now consider them part of the indispensable landscape (Mk 5:1-17).

Here, then, is the adventure of Faith - based on one's own experience of God.

In this way, the baptismal proclamation has the 'task' of broadening horizons and expanding communication between Heaven and earth.

This starts with the extraordinary nature of the person. For the joy of all.

The Prophet disturbs the ancient balance because he does not adapt to a quiet life.

He goes against the tide... out of a need for an inner fire, which he feels like a burning bush that cannot be extinguished.

He does not seek the opinion of others, but the ever-fresh and crystal-clear water of the Source in action.

The innate paradigm that lies within the Call gives him a vision of a path, an instinct to move forward. Even the essential equipment.

An impulse of life - or exodus - that enables us to set out towards that destination, which is absolute because it is unrepeatable.

The natural interface of the journey lies in the deep identity of each individual.

Its extraordinary, incomparable and unusual uniqueness manifests itself in privileged emotional inclinations - and in personal eccentricities - often already detectable at an early age.

Vocation reveals itself to the soul in a burning desire and through a real image [unique to each person, even if dreamlike but lasting] perceptible to the inner eye, which periodically peeps out.

It may be a glimpse of a future situation - not only individually unique and singular (or something else).

It possesses the authentic perfection of character, even relational, of the divine condition. But with its own point of view - albeit communal and joyful - which echoes perseveringly and accompanies the path to be followed.

Interacting with the surrounding environment and also by contrast, each root will bear its fruit.

But any distraction from one's own character will become a tiring labyrinth...

Normally, a struggle arises between the individual divine spark and the restriction of the accustomed environment, already endowed with its own twisted expertise.

Consequently, the difficulty of continuing the journey is guaranteed by that hidden icon that is our real and ideal capacity.

This is much more important than the reassurances offered by prevailing knowledge - in situ - or skill and discipline.

Self-realisation will rhyme with trust, but in contrast to the ancient meaning.In fact, in order to achieve one's aspirations, one does not need to improve by imitating 'right' models and becoming skilled, or by imposing greater efforts on oneself.

As Pope Francis reiterated: 'God is not a ticket inspector'.

To make your dreams come true, you don't have to fixate, obey external voices, or sweat.

Rather, we must let ourselves go to our innate nature, to our quintessence: there lies the secret of our happiness.

Here, even through partial attempts and momentary errors that recalibrate, everyone finds their own path and fulfils themselves. They do not remain at the starting blocks forever, nor do they feel inferior to their more accomplished friends.

They have gained the confidence of knowing how to please themselves and the Father.

Because they produce attractive effects, their spontaneous beauty also involves others.

And it is this beauty that has found a way to throw off so much ballast: the old artificial posturing, with useless and static things.

By turning a corner... we reconnect with the ancient energy of exceptional inclination - even in our infirmities.

In the pious life, in order to grow, one must normally submit to a prescribed task and, if one really wants to excel, exhaust oneself in rigid procedures that have already been followed by others.

In this way, one can hope to have a religious 'career', even a spiritually athletic or catwalk one, co-opted into the upper echelons of good manners.

The soul that runs on the track of its completeness, on the other hand, removes the swampy mentality (which discourages the unusual) and heads towards a new birth and childhood.

A genesis and development that reawaken our interests, or our 'obsession', and allow us to spread our wings of vivacity. A wave that belongs to us.

An astonishing example.

To internalise and live the message:

From what alienating power has faith in Christ saved you?

Returning to yourself or something else? What matters to you in the community? The healing of dissipated humanity or the usual bond - insubstantial and destined to collapse - with common idols?

Faith, caricatures and a different way of following

Mk 5:18-20 [Lk 9:57-62]

For Semites, parental figures indicate a bond with ethnicity, tradition, the past and the cultural environment.

Jesus seems to exclude any correlation with such figures, even though he addresses his own in an exclusive and singular way.

He never speaks of fathers, but of the Father - who is not a repeater.

He therefore imposes on everyone a horizontal break with customs that could delay or condition his Call, the profound discovery of the meaning of events, the emergence of a new mentality, the Sequela.

He diversifies Vocations, to make each person understand the intimate character, by Name, of the relationship of Covenant in Faith - which does not depersonalise as in religions.

Symbiosis with the surrounding mentality or intellectual knowledge itself can paradoxically obscure the very intelligence of the unique inclinations that manifest the incomparable signature of the Creator in our innermost being.

The authentic Call captures women and men in an exclusive and penetrating way, in the uniqueness of their experience. What kind of Covenant and Mission would it be otherwise?

Sometimes the best thing to do for oneself and for others is to cut the umbilical cord and distance oneself from the expectations of those one usually associates with.

This decision is essential in order to seek the meaning of the Spirit, which is only personal Love - and becomes true Passion.

Here, the inner state of individuation and independence must be very present in the soul.

By frequenting the same conformist environments, we identify with people and situations: this blocks the centre of our expectations and dreams. The doors to other worlds, to another realm, do not open.

The personality wants its space of autonomy, because life in its fullness is experiencing a fresh cascade of rebirths in Christ - celebrating together, but standing on one's own two feet.

Impossible for our nature... but the Source of being leads us like a skilled director, always from novelty to novelty. And his profound Wisdom will make us dance - even if we have never learned to dance in style.

What kind of life of faith would it be that seeks to stem the waves of the open sea so that we can always remain in the familiar, reassuring harbour?

Leaning on family, friends, habitual opinions, the clubhouse or the beach of the movement [in short, wanting to be like everyone else in order to gain immediate approval] does not allow us to experience new genesis.

Jesus is peremptory, because the choice is decisive.

Those who keep their heads down or look backwards – or engage in confrontation – cannot experience the adventure of faith; they do not live, but drag the religion of the dead behind them.

Those who live only in the future and have no sense of reality experience illusions. But those who remain in the past or with models live with skeletons (not only in the closet) and do not perceive the meaning of change.

They easily become obsessed or brood, turning things into chronic conditions. Meanwhile, new stimuli could introduce them to a chain of unexpected leaps.

This is why insistent family and cultural ties can take away the intensity or character of the Call by Name.

They encroach on the necessary space, invaded by too many 'Yes, sir's' - which do not belong to us and we do not want. They only block the mechanisms that lie dormant.

In the passionate exodus with Jesus, the pleasure of the Vocation cannot allow the inclinations of others [and those who conform] to spill over, pervade and occupy our personal world and time.

In order to listen to and make our own the Call to Mission, we need to build a sphere of the Self that is eminent, unassailable, friendly and protected, whose pace and horizons we will learn to follow over time.

This identifying sphere, whose boundaries are protected from interference, will help us in the Dialogue of prayer. It will also ward off the danger of being absorbed by the common, impersonal, accommodating mentality.

The defence of this intimacy, dense with the Unpublished and non-institutional, becomes the driving force and determination of our committed life, which does not back down.

Over time, this Nest will teach us to express the quality of relationships in a genuine way, rather than in a conventional way, even if we completely disagree with the prevailing external mentality, which is powerful if it is trivial.

Those who choose otherwise will sooner or later have to compensate for the cut (of themselves) with gratifications of various kinds, which will distance them from their own face and from the ideal that intimately corresponds to them.

[Even a dreamy, saintly wickedness can serve to rediscover the intimate core of a person, the sacredness of each individual].

We are not called to conform to a neutral do-goodism that only wants to please on the outside, perhaps because it is afraid of being excluded from the circle or judged badly - even the opposite.

Behind the main lines of each person's personality lies a Pearl, which, in order to make a significant contribution according to the Lord's plan, must reveal its own unique nuances.

Especially in our spousal relationship with God, we must not adapt to roles that do not belong to us.

Over time, compromise becomes a habit that causes us to lose our natural tendencies: these tendencies contain the chromosomes of our vocation.

The realisation of our unique missionary calling does not happen according to a character or established and widespread principles – conciliatory and successful – nor because it goes hand in hand with the whole world of veterans [or those who are 'à la page'].

Contrary to adapting and letting ourselves be influenced by irenicism, at a certain point we deviate to follow the inner Friend who knows where to lead us and does not know the act of always agreeing.

Otherwise, having lost the energy-Person and the goal that lead us to our destination, Uniqueness fades in the mediations that hold us hostage - behind events, lines of thought and roles that have now faded away.

Finally, we lose sight of our own founding Eros, which wanted to move our desires, our way of knowing the world and our activities.

[The result: a now blurred Core, a Source that recycles and no longer gushes as before, dispersed in a thousand rivulets of transformation - astute shortcuts for a career without ups and downs].

Hence the great dances on nothing: that of missed dangers - staged as quiet compensation by those whom Christ would call 'empty shells' ['doers of vain things': Lk 13:27 original text].

Not infrequently, it is precisely the caste or herd objectives linked to tribal and sectarian thinking that consolidate - they take over the specific weight and intimacy of values, replaced by facile and conformist slogans or adultoids that plagiarise existence.

Every missionary knows that entrusting one's life to serious and quiet opinions, reassuring initiatives or textbook choices does not bear fruit; on the contrary, it becomes counterproductive.

Concordism seems like an attractive refuge, but it only becomes a den of flattery.

According to Chinese thought, in order to acquire polish and escape a polluted and worn-out servility, the saints 'learn from animals the art of avoiding the harmful effects of domestication that life in society imposes'.

In fact: 'Domestic animals die prematurely. And so do men, whom social conventions forbid to obey spontaneously the rhythm of universal life'.

'These conventions impose continuous, self-interested, exhausting activity [whereas it is appropriate] to alternate periods of slow life and exultation'.

"The saint does not submit to retreat or fasting except in order to reach, through ecstasy, escape through long journeys. This liberation is prepared by invigorating games, which nature teaches."

"One trains for paradise by imitating the pleasures of animals. To become holy, one must first become brutalised – that is, learn from children, animals and plants the simple and joyful art of living only for the sake of life."

[M. Granet, Il Pensiero Cinese (Chinese Thought), Adelphi 2019, Kindle pp. 6904-6909].The suggestion of the past to be perpetuated, the bond of narrow judgements and the ties of the circle can rob us of hidden riches, stealing the present and the future: this is the real mistake to avoid!

What matters is not restoring the situation, copying the ancients or the acclaimed and powerful, identifying with them in order to remain quiet and not make mistakes, but rather renewing ourselves in order to evolve, grow, expand and amaze. 

Otherwise, our clumsy problems will always be the same and there will be no exuberant Path or Promised Land, but only a vicious circle of regrets or false reassurances.

To live the Faith of the real moment - without giving up and putting things in order - we cannot be schoolchildren repeating the place or fashions, the time or the day before.

Despite the fact that illness is part of human experience, we do not succeed in becoming accustomed to it, not only because it is sometimes truly burdensome and grave, but also essentially because we are made for life, for a full life. Our "internal instinct" rightly makes us think of God as fullness of life indeed, as eternal and perfect Life. When we are tried by evil and our prayers seem to be in vain, then doubt besets us and we ask ourselves in anguish: what is God's will? We find the answer to this very question in the Gospel. For example, in today's passage we read that Jesus "healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons" (Mk 1: 34); in another passage from St Matthew it says that Jesus "went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom and healing every disease and every infirmity among the people" (Mt 4: 23). Jesus leaves no room for doubt: God whose Face he himself revealed is the God of life, who frees us from every evil. The signs of his power of love are the healings he performed. He thus shows that the Kingdom of God is close at hand by restoring men and women to their full spiritual and physical integrity. I maintain that these cures are signs: they are not complete in themselves but guide us towards Christ's message, they guide us towards God and make us understand that man's truest and deepest illness is the absence of God, who is the source of truth and love. Only reconciliation with God can give us true healing, true life, because a life without love and without truth would not be life. The Kingdom of God is precisely the presence of truth and love and thus is healing in the depths of our being. One therefore understands why his preaching and the cures he works always go together: in fact, they form one message of hope and salvation.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus, 8 February 2009]