(Mt 13:36-43)

Completeness: Duplicity

From the fascinating proposal of Faith to the fatigue of retreat (2)

The parable of the Sower as historically narrated by Jesus (vv.3-8) and the parable of the tares (vv.24-30) denote the total positivity of his Message.

The Lord proclaimed 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 Patient) creates for us.

Just like a condescending and longsuffering Parent, who ceaselessly provides opportunities for life.

The Master intended to shift the criterion of the pious life: from personal effort to allowing oneself to be saved, surrendering one's point of view.

Redemption is rooted in His providential initiative, in His gratuitous liberality, in His serene calm.

All conditions that allow each one a process of interaction, assimilation and reworking: a broad time of growth.

But the reflection that immediately follows - just a few decades after the Lord's death - begins to suffer from the dominant cultural cliché on the side, and unfortunately undermines both its character and its transparency.

The Son proclaimed only the longsuffering of the Father: Subject, Motive and Engine of our ability to face every path of flourishing.

In later reflection, the original parables become allegories, overflowing with symbols of defined moralistic meaning - all in all, banal.

In this way, we see them veined with impersonal considerations about the quality of the soil, or even of the Seed!

The latter - no longer identified with His Word, but in a certain zealous type of disciples [of little specific weight and proposal: those who would always feel surrounded by adversaries].

Such an inauspicious passage testifies to the difficulty of understanding the Son of God's astounding call from the earliest communities.

The Lord intended to suggest a path of Faith to all, precisely to supplant the anxiogenic yoke of the religious model - which, on the other hand, remained as an attractive archetype of discernment criteria.

A heavy yoke, albeit a usual one, that did not start from Love; for the very fact that it presupposed stinginess, inadequacies, and shame everywhere - even in the spiritual life [shrunken, perpetually in the balance, stingy, always insufficient].

We know the situations.

Instead, even vv.18-23 contain a glad tidings, rather than a judgement: in our field both good wheat and weeds arise spontaneously, but this is not a curse regardless; on the contrary (v.23c).

However, it must be admitted that the metaphor of vv.37-43 transforms the original parable (vv.24-30) into a moral allegory.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasise that the presence of "evil" in the world is not to be attributed to the lack of vitality of the Seed, nor to the divine Work.

The protagonist of the passage [from v.18 and v.36] is no longer God and His munificent gesture, who spares no expense in sowing His Seed, but rather the type of soil - or here the new "good seed": the apostle himself - who would become the true "subject" of the spiritual path.

One thus enters the minefield of devotions: it seems that it is the woman and the man, the one who actually receives the Word, who must focus on himself, and identify his own shortcomings.

In addition - having finally become aware of them, a clear conscience, a natural ability and even familiarity - to strive to 'improve' according to models, on pain of exclusion from the ranks of the 'best'.

[All this leads normal people to a depersonalisation of the very quality of the Calling, and to an insane expenditure of energy].

The ethical idea - in fact - erases trust. It does not enhance the propulsive dynamism of ordinary existence. It always finds before it imperfections and tangles to unravel.

It is these, and thoughts, that get in the way. Conversely, in order to realise and complete oneself, such ballasts should be placed in the background, thrown behind one's back; flown forward.

The danger of such an approach is that it will end up piling distinction upon distinction, obsessing people with invincible sin. And affect the character lines of those who take the legalist binary seriously.

Such disembodied ethics cages the most sensitive - who unfortunately gradually exchange self-consciousness for the guilt-ridden myths [artefacts] of perfection.

Except for the careless and opportunistic, 'religion' taken head-on has always rhymed with prison.

Indeed, it still paradoxically makes the judgement of still being 'bad seed' the protagonist of our path! Other people's opinion and exterior.

In addition, there is the torment of still feeling under the cloak of perpetual 'sin': transgression and guilt that the fundamental option for God was intended to exorcise.In fact, epidermic sentencing does not know the different and very normal energies of man - all mouldable and potentially preparatory, to be fully perceived, assumed, invested.

Every prejudice, even a sacred one, actually overlooks the multifacetedness of the person, and finally turns into that deadening principle of self and others, which by proclamation would never want to be.

Because of extrinsic or recondite efforts, every external paradigm ends up losing the Way of God's Newness, its relevance, and the real Vocation - perhaps mistaking them for ballast.

The metaphor (vv.37-43) is precisely the result of the interpretation of early assemblies still under the influence of the ancient target of external, formal, apparent 'sterilisation' and 'coherence' - ethical rather than relational.

Similarly to what has already been mentioned above, even vv.18-23 contain a Glad Tidings, rather than a judgement: in our field both good wheat and weeds arise spontaneously, but this is not a curse regardless; on the contrary (v.23c).

However, it must be admitted that the metaphor of vv.37-43 transforms the original parable (vv.24-30) into a moral allegory.

With symbolic elements, the different figurative expressions take up the original narrative of Jesus, trying to interpret it according to the common codes of traditional rabbinic preaching.

As with the teachers of Israel, the next intent here is to shake up the listeners, in order to emphasise the personal, communal and spiritual importance of the diriment choices - in today's world.

However, in this passage we get the impression that the editors got caught up in the banal idea of immediate and decisive justice.

And yet haste is always inimical to the things of God.... [apart from the fact that time is often the medicine that makes useless branches, or so many parasitic elements, spontaneously wither].

In the House (v.36), i.e. in the Church, there is first of all a debate as to why Jesus does not impose a preventive sterilisation of the cornfield.

In doing so, he unfortunately opens the door to that 'purism' which the Son of God abhorred as nefarious.

This, although the evangelist's attempt to stem defections was understandable - screening well any attempt to adapt to cultural frames, to situations.

But by yielding to evaluations of efficacy and outline, the central point of the original narration of the Son of Man - and He Himself - is as if broken up into pattern elements.

A casuistry perhaps easier to digest, but even independent of the sense of the main narrative (vv.18-23).

Finally, there is the risk of identifying the Will of God with that of a Church of the elect and impecunious. A community almost placed upstream of any growth process.

In the uncertainty, particular clarifications are attempted here - according to which, however, the passage, the result of subsequent drafting, debate and reflection, risks overturning the meaning of the Jesus parable itself.

Indeed, in his people of brothers and society, the Master did not intend to erase a priori the fruitful sense of the ineffable and mysterious dynamics of 'mixing': a reality of this world in its own right.

Such was the essential, universalist proclamation of the young Rabbi; in spite of ancient purist clichés, or spineless fashions.

Legalistic religiosity was selective, elitist, conformist; concerned with maintaining social hierarchies.

As such, it constituted a tightly knit cultural cloak, and assessed in an abstract, pre-emptive way what should be considered good or bad for everyone.

Yet the idea of icy perfection [sterile of life] did not allow the preparatory energies of concrete existence to prepare the future and generate the very Newness of the Spirit.

Yet (the passage in Matthew bears witness to this) soon after Christ's death the conviction of undefiledness and the mentality of distinctions began to creep in again and take over.

This was due to the fact that externally, small communities had to confront (head-on) the rankings, the context of religions, moralistic conformisms, and the usual paradigms of widespread culture.

In some cases, this configuration led to a lack of humanity.

Historically speaking - in the second and third generation of believers, the acceptance of Jesus as Lord of one's life was perhaps in danger of becoming more binding and identifying than propelling the character of personal uniqueness - activating Freedom.

Christ's encounter with the believer changes everything in his life, certainly - but not from a presupposed hierarchy of values, procedures and pre-written sentences.

One actually becomes alert to perceive the eccentricity of one's brothers and sisters because one has experienced the Father's blessing embrace of one's 'faults'.Not out of a sense of emotional paternalism, but because not infrequently the resources that solve the real problems and activate God's Redemption come from the whirlwind of precious contradictions and destitution within us.

It is precisely these that make us less one-sided, more ductile and complete. Exceptional, alive; able to rely on the inner world instead of the outer world.

Therefore capable of a breakthrough.

Instead, exclusivism - where established morality takes the lion's share, hand in hand with appearance - has never let the living Faith, nor the world, grow.

We can see it: in order to make the world grow and make it reborn from the global crisis, each subject [even institutional] is called upon to reinvent itself outside of any already arranged and recognised score.

And today, perhaps precisely from what in the custom of thought was considered nothing more than a flaw, or annoying dissonance; incompleteness, limitation... and so on.

Suddenly and blatantly, imbalances and oscillations also make a difference in terms of quality.

They become opportunities not to be missed: an extra gear; spring power, a drive to activate the unheard of, and open up.

Here is a substantial difference between common religiosity and the life of Faith.

Duplicity makes us healthier and more perfect - and God is not prejudiced.

On the contrary, in the Father's eyes, it is precisely the unrepeatable uncertainties (not protocol) that make each of his children special, unique.

In short, one grows, is enriched and corresponds to one's personal Vocation only by bringing into play, integrating and transmuting boundaries - not by denying them.

47. Some recent theologians are of the opinion that the fire which both burns and saves is Christ himself, the Judge and Saviour. The encounter with him is the decisive act of judgement. Before his gaze all falsehood melts away. This encounter with him, as it burns us, transforms and frees us, allowing us to become truly ourselves. All that we build during our lives can prove to be mere straw, pure bluster, and it collapses. Yet in the pain of this encounter, when the impurity and sickness of our lives become evident to us, there lies salvation. His gaze, the touch of his heart heals us through an undeniably painful transformation “as through fire”. But it is a blessed pain, in which the holy power of his love sears through us like a flame, enabling us to become totally ourselves and thus totally of God. In this way the inter-relation between justice and grace also becomes clear: the way we live our lives is not immaterial, but our defilement does not stain us for ever if we have at least continued to reach out towards Christ, towards truth and towards love. Indeed, it has already been burned away through Christ's Passion. At the moment of judgement we experience and we absorb the overwhelming power of his love over all the evil in the world and in ourselves. The pain of love becomes our salvation and our joy. It is clear that we cannot calculate the “duration” of this transforming burning in terms of the chronological measurements of this world. The transforming “moment” of this encounter eludes earthly time-reckoning—it is the heart's time, it is the time of “passage” to communion with God in the Body of Christ[39]. The judgement of God is hope, both because it is justice and because it is grace. If it were merely grace, making all earthly things cease to matter, God would still owe us an answer to the question about justice—the crucial question that we ask of history and of God. If it were merely justice, in the end it could bring only fear to us all. The incarnation of God in Christ has so closely linked the two together—judgement and grace—that justice is firmly established: we all work out our salvation “with fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). Nevertheless grace allows us all to hope, and to go trustfully to meet the Judge whom we know as our “advocate”, or parakletos (cf. 1 Jn 2:1).

[Pope Benedict, Encyclical Spe Salvi no.47]

5. One of the parables narrated by Jesus on the growth of the Kingdom of God on earth makes us discover very realistically the character of struggle that the kingdom entails, due to the presence and action of an "enemy", who "sows tares (or weeds) in the midst of the wheat". Jesus says that when "the harvest flourished and bore fruit, behold, the weeds also appeared". The servants of the master of the field would like to pluck it, but the master does not allow them to do so, "lest . . . uproot the wheat also. Let the one and the other grow together until the harvest, and at the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, 'Harvest the darnel first and bind it in bundles to burn it; but the wheat put it in my barn' (Mt 13:24-30). This parable explains the coexistence and often the intertwining of good and evil in the world, in our lives, in the very history of the Church. Jesus teaches us to see things with Christian realism and to treat every problem with clarity of principles, but also with prudence and patience. This presupposes a transcendent vision of history, in which we know that everything belongs to God and every final outcome is the work of his Providence. However, the final fate - with an eschatological dimension - of the good and the bad is not hidden: it is symbolised by the harvesting of the wheat in the storehouse and the burning of the tares.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 25 September 1991]

These Sundays the liturgy proposes several Gospel parables, that is, short stories which Jesus used to announce the Kingdom of Heaven to the crowds. Among those in today’s Gospel, there is a rather complex one which Jesus explained to the disciples: it is that of the good grain and the weed, which deals with the problem of evil in the world and calls attention to God’s patience (cf. Mt 13:24-30, 36-43). The story takes place in a field where the owner sows grain, but during the night his enemy comes and sows weed, a term which in Hebrew derives from the same root as the name “Satan” and which alludes to the concept of division. We all know that the demon is a “sower of weed”, one who always seeks to sow division between individuals, families, nations and peoples. The servants wanted to uproot the weed immediately, but the field owner stopped them, explaining that: “in gathering the weeds you root up the wheat along with them” (Mt 13:29). Because we all know that a weed, when it grows, looks very much like good grain, and there is the risk of confusing them.

The teaching of the parable is twofold. First of all, it tells that the evil in the world comes not from God but from his enemy, the evil one. It is curious that the evil one goes at night to sow weed, in the dark, in confusion; he goes where there is no light to sow weed. This enemy is astute: he sows evil in the middle of good, thus it is impossible for us men to distinctly separate them; but God, in the end, will be able to do so.

And here we arrive at the second theme: the juxtaposition of the impatience of the servants and the patient waiting of the field owner, who represents God. At times we are in a great hurry to judge, to categorize, to put the good here, the bad there.... But remember the prayer of that self-righteous man: “God, I thank you that I am good, that I am not like other men, malicious” (cf. Lk 18:11-12). God, however, knows how to wait. With patience and mercy he gazes into the “field” of life of every person; he sees much better than we do the filth and the evil, but he also sees the seeds of good and waits with trust for them to grow. God is patient, he knows how to wait. This is so beautiful: our God is a patient father, who always waits for us and waits with his heart in hand to welcome us, to forgive us. He always forgives us if we go to him.

The field owner’s attitude is that of hope grounded in the certainty that evil does not have the first nor the last word. And it is thanks to this patient hope of God that the same weed, which is the malicious heart with so many sins, in the end can become good grain. But be careful: evangelical patience is not indifference to evil; one must not confuse good and evil! In facing weeds in the world the Lord’s disciple is called to imitate the patience of God, to nourish hope with the support of indestructible trust in the final victory of good, that is, of God.

In the end, in fact, evil will be removed and eliminated: at the time of harvest, that is, of judgment, the harvesters will follow the orders of the field owner, separating the weed to burn it (cf. Mt 13:30). On the day of the final harvest, the judge will be Jesus, He who has sown good grain in the world and who himself became the “grain of wheat”, who died and rose. In the end we will all be judged by the same measure with which we have judged: the mercy we have shown to others will also be shown to us. Let us ask Our Lady, our Mother, to help us to grow in patience, in hope and in mercy with all brothers and sisters.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 20 July 2014]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people to discover the things of God and man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom becoming Present, describing precisely the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the «mustard seed» and the «leaven».

To say: the authentic Church is within reach of everyone, everywhere - nonetheless exiguous; inapparent, yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginnings and term: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one that welcomes the character of an inapparent Word-event, but one that activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first term of comparison related to the life of the people [the little seed] mentions the story of a very small grain: a common concrete event, which is not very noticeable.

Around the Lake of Galilee, mustard shrubs can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

It is not the same development as the majestic cedars of Lebanon - rather of just any small tree in the kitchen garden (v.32), however, capable of giving a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence of little fuss: quite normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing big, yet hospitable to those suffering from the powerful heat of those places.

In short, the fraternities that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent and outward, but they will know how to give shelter and rest.

The strength of the «mustard speck» is intimate, yet strong-willed: it will grow - though not by much.

That is, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Maybe it will be more like a small barque: no big deal - yet it will raise hopes of life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of amiable evangelisers, who still proclaim and work, radiating light, captivating people.

Whoever approaches the threshold of the churches - the reference is to the distant and pagan - must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will be fully entitled to take up their position and build their nest [in such a common Abode] even if they then decide to take flight again as soon as they have used it.

The next comparison - of the «leaven» (v.33) - insists on caring for the life goals of other brethren, with respect to the Community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's concern for all his sons.

The leaven is not useful to itself, but to the mass.

Likewise, the Church shall not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration and development [material, or with a view to proselytism; and so on].

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of people's lives alone, where and how they are - just as they are.

To internalize and live the message:

What seed had you neglected because of its smallness, and then it turned out to be essential for your growth and the needs of others as well?

[Lunedì 17.a sett. T.O.   27 luglio 2026]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people discover the things of God and of man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary nature of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom that is becoming Present, describing the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the 'mustard seed' and 'yeast'.

In other words, the authentic Church is within everyone's reach, everywhere - yet small, inconspicuous, and yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginning and end: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one who welcomes the character of a humble Word-event, but which activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first point of comparison linked to people's lives [the seed] refers to the story of a very small grain of wheat: a concrete, common story that is not particularly noticeable.

Around the Sea of Galilee, mustard bushes can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

This is not the growth of majestic cedars of Lebanon, but rather a small tree in a home garden (v. 32), yet capable of providing a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence that is not very noticeable: completely normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing great, yet hospitable to those who suffer the intense heat of those places.

In short, the brotherhoods that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent or outwardly impressive, but they will be able to offer shelter and rest.

The strength of the 'mustard seed' is intimate, yet stubborn: it will grow - even if not by much.

In other words, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Perhaps it will be more like a small boat: nothing special, yet capable of inspiring hope for life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of loving evangelisers who continue to proclaim and work, radiating light and captivating people.

Anyone who approaches the threshold of churches – I am referring to those who are distant and pagan – must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will have every right to take up residence and build their nest [in this common dwelling] even if they decide to fly away again as soon as they have served their purpose.

The next comparison - that of 'yeast' (v. 33) - emphasises the importance of caring for the life goals of other brothers and sisters in the community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's care for all his children.

Yeast is not useful to itself, but to the dough.

In the same way, the Church must not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration or development (material, proselytism, etc.).

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of the life of the people, wherever and however they find themselves - just as they are.

To internalise and live the message:

What seed did you neglect because of its smallness, and then it proved essential for your growth and the needs of others?

[Parables: Narrative for transmutation]

The mystery of common blindness. Lost? Ready for transformation

(Mt 13:34-35)

St Paul expresses the meaning of the 'mystery of blindness' that contrasts with his journey with the famous expression 'thorn in the side': wherever he went, enemies were already waiting for him, and unexpected disagreements arose.

So it is for us: disastrous events, catastrophes, emergencies, the disintegration of old reassuring certainties - all external and murky; until recently considered permanent.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings have been the best way to reactivate ourselves and introduce the energies of renewed life.

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

Erich Fromm says:

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

Indeed, in a climate of unrest or absurd differences [which force us to regenerate], the most neglected inner virtues sometimes come to the fore.

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

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

With one cycle concluded, we begin a new phase; perhaps with greater rectitude and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, closer to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is generated in an acute way precisely by detachments.They lead us to a dynamic dialogue with the eternal reserves of transmuting forces that inhabit us and belong to us.

A primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us, this path 'fishes' for the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

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

An arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, culture, procedures, and what is common.

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

Until the turmoil and chaos themselves guide the soul and compel it to a new beginning, to a different perspective (completely shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, it is the result of a narrative exploration that does not distance people from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.

Talking about God means first of all expressing clearly what God we must bring to the men and women of our time: not an abstract God, a hypothesis, but a real God, a God who exists, who has entered history and is present in history; the God of Jesus Christ as an answer to the fundamental question of the meaning of life and of how we should live. Consequently speaking of God demands familiarity with Jesus and his Gospel, it implies that we have a real, personal knowledge of God and a strong passion for his plan of salvation without succumbing to the temptation of success, but following God’s own method. God’s method is that of humility — God makes himself one of us — his method is brought about through the Incarnation in the simple house of Nazareth; through the Grotto of Bethlehem; through the Parable of the Mustard Seed. 

We must not fear the humility of taking little steps, but trust in the leaven that penetrates the dough and slowly causes it to rise (cf. Mt 13:33). In talking about God, in the work of evangelization, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we must recover simplicity, we must return to the essence of the proclamation: the Good News of a God who is real and effective, a God who is concerned about us, a God-Love who makes himself close to us in Jesus Christ, until the Cross, and who in the Resurrection gives us hope and opens us to a life that has no end, eternal life, true life. St Paul, that exceptional communicator, gives us a lesson that goes straight to the heart of the problem of faith: “how to speak of God” with great simplicity.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience, 28 November 2012]

If in Christ the Kingdom of God "is near" and indeed present, definitively in the history of humanity and the world, at the same time its fulfilment continues to belong to the future. And so Jesus commands us to pray to the Father, "Thy Kingdom come" (Mt 6:10).

4. We must keep this question in mind as we deal with the Gospel of Christ as the "good news" of the Kingdom of God. This was the "guiding" theme of Jesus' proclamation, which speaks of the Kingdom of God above all in his numerous parables. Particularly significant is the parable that presents the Kingdom of God as a seed that a sower sows in the ground he has cultivated (cf. Mt 13:3-9). The seed is destined to "bear fruit" by its own virtue, without doubt, but the fruit also depends on the soil in which it falls (cf. Mt 13:19-23).

5. On another occasion, Jesus compared the Kingdom of God (the "Kingdom of Heaven" according to Matthew) to a mustard seed, which "is the smallest of all seeds," but once it has grown, it becomes a leafy tree, in whose branches the birds of the air find shelter (cf. Mt 13:31-32). He also compares the growth of the Kingdom of God to "yeast" that ferments flour so that it becomes bread to feed people (cf. Mt 13:33). However, Jesus also dedicates another parable to the problem of the growth of the Kingdom of God in the soil that is this world, that of the good wheat and the weeds sown by the "enemy" in the field sown with good wheat (cf. Mt 13: 24-30). Thus, in the field of the world, good and evil, symbolised by wheat and weeds, grow together "until the harvest", that is, until the day of divine judgement: another significant allusion to the eschatological perspective of human history. In any case, it tells us that the growth of the seed, which is the "word of God," is conditioned by how it is received in the field of human hearts: this determines whether it produces fruit and yields "a hundredfold, sixtyfold, or thirtyfold" (cf. Mt 13:23) according to the dispositions and responsiveness of those who receive it.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 27 April 1988]

Do Christians truly believe in the power of the Holy Spirit within them? Do they have the courage to sow the seed, to put themselves on the line, or do they take refuge in a pastoral approach of conservation that does not allow the Kingdom of God to grow? These are the questions posed by Pope Francis during Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Tuesday, 31 October, in which he outlined a horizon of 'hope' for every single person and for the Church as a community: that of the full realisation of the Kingdom of God, which has two pillars: the disruptive 'power' of the Spirit and the 'courage' to let this power be unleashed.

The inspiration came to the Pontiff from reading the Gospel passage (Luke 13:18-21) in which "Jesus seems to struggle a little: 'But how can I explain the Kingdom of God? What can I compare it to?'" and uses "two simple examples from everyday life": those of a mustard seed and yeast. Both are small, Francis explained, and seem harmless, "but when they enter into that movement, they have a power within them that comes out of themselves and grows, going beyond, even beyond what we can imagine." This is precisely "the mystery of the Kingdom."

The reality, in fact, is that "the grain has power within it, the yeast has power within it," and also "the power of the Kingdom of God comes from within; the strength comes from within, the growth comes from within." It is not, added the Pope with a comparison that refers to current events, "a growth such as occurs, for example, in the case of a football team when the number of fans increases and makes the team bigger," but "comes from within." This concept, he added, is taken up by Paul in his Letter to the Romans (8:18-25) in a passage "full of tension," because "this growth of the Kingdom of God from within, from the inside, is a growth in tension."

This is where the apostle explains: 'How many tensions there are in our lives and where they lead us', and says that 'the sufferings of this life are not comparable to the glory that awaits us'. But even 'waiting' itself, said the Pontiff, rereading the epistle, is not a 'peaceful' waiting: Paul speaks of 'ardent expectation'. There is an ardent expectation in these tensions." Moreover, this expectation is not only human, but "also of creation," which is "straining toward the revelation of the children of God." In fact, "creation, like us, has been subjected to transience" and proceeds in the "hope that it will be freed from the slavery of corruption." Therefore, 'it is the whole of creation that, from the existential transience it perceives, goes straight to glory, to freedom from slavery; it leads us to freedom. And this creation — and we with it, with creation — groans and suffers the pains of childbirth until today'.

The conclusion of this reasoning led the Pope to relaunch the concept of "hope": man and the whole of creation possess "the first fruits of the Spirit," that is, "the internal force that drives us forward and gives us hope" for the "fullness of the Kingdom of God." This is why the Apostle Paul writes 'that phrase which teaches us so much: "For in hope we were saved".

This, the Pontiff continued, is a 'journey', it is 'what leads us to fulfilment, the hope of escaping from this prison, from this limitation, from this slavery, from this corruption, and arriving at glory'. And it is, he added, 'a gift of the Spirit' that 'is within us and leads to this: to something great, to liberation, to great glory. And that is why Jesus says: "Within the mustard seed, that tiny grain, there is a force that unleashes unimaginable growth."

Here, then, is the reality prefigured by the parable: "Within us and in creation — because we are going together towards glory — there is a force that unleashes: there is the Holy Spirit. Who gives us hope." And, Francis added, "To live in hope is to let these forces of the Spirit go ahead and help us grow towards this fullness that awaits us in glory."

The Pope then reflected on another aspect, because the parable adds that "the mustard seed is taken and thrown away. A man took it and threw it into his garden" and that even the yeast is not left helpless: "a woman takes it and mixes it." It is clear that "if the grain is not taken and thrown, if the yeast is not taken by the woman and mixed, they remain there and that inner strength they have remains there." In the same way, Francis explained, "if we want to keep the grain for ourselves, it will be just grain. If we do not mix it with life, with the flour of life, the yeast, only the yeast will remain." It is therefore necessary to "throw, mix, that courage of hope." Which "grows, because the Kingdom of God grows from within, not through proselytism." It grows "with the power of the Holy Spirit."In this regard, the Pope recalled that "the Church has always had both the courage to take and throw away, to take and mix," and also "the fear of doing so." He noted: "So often we see that a pastoral approach of conservation is preferred" rather than "letting the Kingdom grow." When this happens, "we remain what we are, small, there," perhaps "we are safe," but "the Kingdom does not grow." Whereas "for the Kingdom to grow, we need courage: to throw the grain, to mix the yeast."

Some might object: "If I throw the grain, I lose it." But this, the Pope explained, is always the reality: "There is always some loss in sowing the Kingdom of God. If I mix the yeast, I get my hands dirty: thank God! Woe to those who preach the Kingdom of God with the illusion of not getting their hands dirty. They are museum curators: they prefer beautiful things" to "the gesture of throwing so that the force is unleashed, of mixing so that the force grows."

All this is contained in the words of Jesus and Paul proposed by the liturgy: the "tension that goes from slavery to sin" to "the fullness of glory." And the hope that "does not disappoint" even if it is "small like a grain of wheat and like yeast." Someone, the Pontiff recalled, "said that it is the humblest virtue, it is the servant. But there is the Spirit, and where there is hope there is the Holy Spirit. And it is precisely the Holy Spirit who carries forward the Kingdom of God." He concluded by suggesting that those present think again about "the mustard seed and the yeast, about throwing and mixing" and ask themselves: "How is my hope? Is it an illusion? A 'maybe'? Or do I believe that the Holy Spirit is there? Do I speak with the Holy Spirit?"

[Pope Francis, St. Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano, 1 November 2017]

Treasure and Pearl - inner forms. The Net, the Beautiful and the rotten

(Mt 13:44-52)

Jesus does not want to make us poor poor, but Allies.

His Presence completes and realizes us by Name; not in a negative sense, but in a full capacity.

The choice or "renunciation" He asks for, is not about summary options. He does not make what is not worth protrude. That is why He does not belittle us.

And the total Word is the real deal.

A hidden Treasure that must first be hidden again (v.44)!

We realize that we have only partially seen of it; there is still much more to discover.

It is not something verifiable immediately and completely.

Warning: we have to hide it again!

Here is the whole game, because such Splendor does not belong to the rituals of folklore, or to the contour duties, that would make us prisoners.

In fact, the spring to get out of the cliché, the protocol, the pack ways, becomes an opportunity to discover something new.

The authentic Kingdom will not be intrusive: it does not demand membership - under penalty of exclusions. It delivers other messages, transmutative from within.

We can grasp it in our roots, because it corresponds to the complete life project that inhabits us and mysteriously we intuit our own.

We understand: it makes us look forward, it makes us feel good. It makes us discover other worlds, and our own nucleus; beyond the problems that are gripping.

This is where the unexplainable, works.

The insecure becomes a determined person, the loser is transformed by grace into wise.

We understand that welcoming the springing Logos and corresponding to one’s personal Vocation will not be terrifying, but regenerating.

Who will shift his thoughts, will bet everything, and will bring out his essence.

In ancient times Pearls were the most precious and splendid things: in short, man is in search of Beauty as a meaning of life and of his own personality.

But who is the really charming man who lives completely, not epidermal?

Before Matthew allowed himself to be made an apostle, he assumed that his invaluable Diamond was the hoarding. And he has to change his mind.

Saul imagined that the boundless Gem - the authenticity of man - was the inappuntability of his practices and ideas.

God’s free Gift has urged both in the Quest for the Precious Pearl: what is delicious, fraternal, donative, lovable and not to be missed.

«Treasure» is the Gospel, the Word of God: a real bargain (v.44). «Pearl» Man is Jesus (vv.45-46).

«Kingdom» is the living assembly - people without merits, with an unexpected outcome; fruit of commitment to the search for the best.

The parable of the Net emphasizes the Result of the Kingdom of God, that is, the educational-operative Gift of the community, “area” in which God "reigns".

The Church dreamed of by Christ is like a Net that pulls us up to the light, to the breath, to existence in fullness.

Conviviality of differences that makes each and everyone reborn, but without holding back the rotten and putrefied [nasty, corrupt, spoiled, dead: v.48], ie the one that has no life, nor does it longer offer it.

This is not a trivial moralistic or forensic judgment, between good and bad!

It is the distinction between what remains full and «beautiful» (in the Eastern sense) and what - putrid, rotten - corrupts and degrades, leaving irreparable filth, ordure, scum.

In short: it is in fraternal realities that God has a foot on earth.

Here, the still-shadowed sides are allowed to express themselves, enhanced, letting flourish.

And here lies the Joy of discovering hidden Treasures.

[17th Sunday in O.T. (year A)  July 26, 2026]