1. Our catechesis on God, creator of the world, cannot conclude without devoting adequate attention to a specific content of divine revelation: the creation of purely spiritual beings, which Sacred Scripture calls 'angels'. This creation appears clearly in the Symbols of Faith, particularly in the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed: "I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible." We know that man enjoys a unique position within creation: thanks to his body, he belongs to the visible world, while his spiritual soul, which gives life to his body, places him almost on the border between the visible and invisible creation. According to the Creed professed by the Church in the light of revelation, the latter includes other beings, purely spiritual, not belonging to the visible world, even though they are present and active in it. They constitute a specific world.

2. Today, as in times past, there is much discussion, with varying degrees of wisdom, about these spiritual beings. It must be acknowledged that there is sometimes great confusion, with the consequent risk of passing off as Church teaching on angels what does not belong to the faith, or, conversely, of omitting some important aspect of revealed truth. The existence of spiritual beings, whom Sacred Scripture usually calls 'angels', was already denied in Christ's time by the Sadducees (cf. Acts 23:8). Materialists and rationalists of all ages also deny it. Yet, as a modern theologian astutely observes, "if one wanted to get rid of angels, one would have to radically revise Sacred Scripture itself, and with it the whole history of salvation" (A. Winklhofer, Die Welt der Engel, Ettal 1961, p. 144, note 2; in Mysterium Salutis, II, 2, p. 726).. The whole Tradition is unanimous on this question. The Creed of the Church is basically an echo of what Paul writes to the Colossians: "For through him (Christ) all things were created, those in heaven and those on earth, the visible and the invisible: Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Powers, all things were created through him and for him" (Col 1:16). That is, Christ, who as the eternal Son-Word and consubstantial with the Father is "begotten before all creatures" (Col 1:15), is at the centre of the universe, as the reason and cornerstone of all creation, as we have already seen in previous catechesis and as we will see again when we speak more directly about him.

3. The reference to the “primacy” of Christ helps us to understand that the truth about the existence and work of angels (good and evil) is not the central content of God’s word. In revelation, God speaks first of all "to men . . . and converses with them, inviting them and admitting them to communion with himself," as we read in the Second Vatican Council's constitution Dei Verbum (Dei Verbum, 2). Thus, 'the profound truth . . . both of God and of the salvation of men' is the central content of revelation, which 'shines forth' most fully in the person of Christ. The truth about angels is in a sense "collateral," yet inseparable from the central revelation, which is the existence, majesty, and glory of the Creator shining forth in all "visible" and "invisible" creation and in God's saving action in human history. Angels are therefore not creatures of primary importance in the reality of revelation, yet they belong fully to it, so much so that at certain moments we see them performing fundamental tasks on behalf of God himself.

4. According to revelation, everything that belongs to creation is part of the mystery of divine Providence. This is stated in an exemplary concise manner by Vatican I, which we have already quoted several times: "Everything that God has created, he preserves and directs with his providence, 'extending his power from one end of the universe to the other and governing all things with his goodness' (cf. Wis 8:1). 'Everything is naked and open to his eyes' (cf. Heb 4:13), 'even what will take place by the free initiative of creatures'" (DS 3003). Providence therefore also embraces the world of pure spirits, who are even more fully rational and free beings than human beings. In Sacred Scripture we find valuable insights concerning them. There is also the revelation of a mysterious yet real drama that affected these angelic creatures, without anything escaping the eternal Wisdom, which with strength ("fortiter") and at the same time with kindness ("suaviter") brings everything to fulfilment in the kingdom of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

5. We recognise first of all that Providence, as the loving Wisdom of God, manifested itself precisely in the creation of purely spiritual beings, so that the likeness of God might be better expressed in them, who far surpass all that is created in the visible world, together with man, who is also an indelible image of God. God, who is absolutely perfect Spirit, is reflected above all in spiritual beings who, by nature, that is, because of their spirituality, are much closer to him than material creatures, and who constitute almost the 'environment' closest to the Creator. Sacred Scripture offers a fairly explicit testimony to this maximum closeness to God of the angels, of whom it speaks, in figurative language, as God's 'throne', his 'hosts', his 'heaven'. It has inspired the poetry and art of the Christian centuries, which present angels to us as the 'court of God'. 

(Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 9 July 1986)

8. Finally, it is worth noting that the Church honours three figures of angels with liturgical worship, who are called by name in Sacred Scripture. The first is Michael the Archangel (cf. Dan 10:13, 20; Rev 12:7; Jude 9). His name succinctly expresses the essential attitude of good spirits. "Mica-El" means "Who is like God?" This name expresses the salvific choice by which angels "see the face of the Father" who is in heaven. The second is Gabriel, a figure linked above all to the mystery of the Incarnation of the Son of God. (cf. Lk 1:19-26) His name means 'my power is God' or 'power of God', as if to say that, at the height of creation, the Incarnation is the supreme sign of the almighty Father. Finally, the third archangel is called Raphael. "Rafa-El" means "God heals". He is known to us from the story of Tobit in the Old Testament (cf. Tob 12:15 ff.), which is so significant in terms of entrusting God's little children, who are always in need of care, protection and guidance, to the angels.

On reflection, we see that each of these three figures - Mica-El, Gabri-El, Rafa-El - reflects in a particular way the truth contained in the question raised by the author of the Letter to the Hebrews: "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to serve those who are to inherit salvation?" (Heb 1:14).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 6 August 1986]

A true act of entrustment to the archangels Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, asking them to help us in the fight against the temptations of the devil, to bring us the good news of salvation and to take us by the hand so that we do not stray from the path of life, thus cooperating in 'God's plan of salvation'. This is the prayer recited by the Pope during Mass celebrated in the chapel of Casa Santa Marta on Friday, 29 September, the feast day of the holy archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael.

"In the opening prayer at the beginning of Mass," Francis immediately pointed out, "we prayed as follows: 'O God, who calls angels and men to cooperate in your plan of salvation, grant us pilgrims on earth the protection of the blessed spirits, who stand before you in heaven to serve you and contemplate the glory of your face.'"

"One thing that attracts attention from the outset," the Pope explained, "is that angels and we have the same vocation: to cooperate in God's plan of salvation; we are, so to speak, 'brothers' in vocation." Angels "stand before the Lord to serve him, to praise him and also to contemplate the glory of the Lord's face: angels are great contemplatives, they contemplate the Lord; they serve and contemplate. But the Lord also sends them to accompany us on the path of life."

"Today we celebrate three of these archangels," said the Pontiff, "because they played an important role in the history of salvation. And we celebrate these three because they also play an important role in our journey towards salvation."

Starting with "Michael — the great Michael — the one who wages war against the devil," explained the Pope, referring to the passage from Revelation (12:7-12) proposed by the liturgy and emphasising: "In the end, when the dragon fought against Michael, when he was defeated, the text says: 'The great dragon, the ancient serpent, the one called the devil and Satan, who deceives the whole inhabited earth, was thrown down.'" The devil is 'our enemy' and this, explained the Pontiff, is 'a vision of the end of the world, but in the meantime he causes trouble, he causes trouble in our lives: he always tries to seduce, as he seduced our mother Eve, with convincing arguments: "Eat the fruit, it will do you good, it will teach you many things"'. And so, "like the serpent, he begins to seduce, to seduce, and then, when we have fallen, he accuses us before God: 'He is a sinner, he is mine!'"

So, Francis reiterated, '"this is mine" is precisely the devil's word, he wins us over by seduction and then accuses us before God: "He is mine, I will take him with me". And "Michael wages war against him, the Lord asked him to wage war: for us who are on our way, in this life of ours, towards heaven, Michael helps us to wage war against him, not to let ourselves be seduced by this evil spirit who deceives us with seductions." Precisely "for this reason, today we thank St Michael for this work he does for the Church and for each one of us, and we ask him to continue to defend us.".

The second archangel, "Gabriel, is the one who brings good news, the one who brought the news to Mary, to Zechariah, to Joseph," Francis continued. Gabriel, therefore, brings "good news and the good news of salvation." He too "is with us and helps us on our journey." Especially when, as often happens, "with so much bad news or news that has no substance, we forget the good news, that of the Gospel of God, of salvation, that Jesus came to us and brought us God's salvation." And it is precisely "Gabriel who reminds us of this, and for this reason today we ask Gabriel to always announce the good news to us." Gabriel, Francis prayed, "remind us of God's good news, of what God has done."

"And then there is the third archangel, Raphael, who helps us on our journey, who walks with us," said the Pontiff. "Michael defends us, Gabriel gives us the good news, and Raphael takes us by the hand and walks with us, helping us with the many things that happen along the way." To Raphael, "we must ask: please, do not let us be seduced into taking the wrong step, into taking the wrong path; guide us on the right path, on the good path. You are our companion on the journey, as you were Tobias' companion on his journey."

The three archangels, Francis continued, "are before God, they are our companions because they have the same vocation in the mystery of salvation: to carry forward the mystery of salvation. They adore God, they glorify God, they serve God." And so, "today we simply pray to the three archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael," the Pope invited, suggesting the words of the prayer: "Michael, help us in our struggle; everyone knows what struggle they have in their lives today, each of us knows the main struggle, the one that puts our salvation at risk. Help us, Gabriel, bring us news, bring us the good news of salvation, that Jesus is with us, that Jesus has saved us and gives us hope. Raphael, take us by the hand and help us on our way so that we do not stray from the path, so that we do not remain stationary: always walking, but helped by you."

[Pope Francis, St. Marta, in L'Osservatore Romano, 30/09/2017]

External solution?

(Lk 16:19-31)

Today's Gospel raises a question of apparent obviousness: is it not perhaps in the natural order of things that in human society there are first and last, learned and ignorant, princes and subjects?

Even Leo XIII, Pope of the social encyclicals, recognized that «in human society it’s according to the order established by God that there are princes and subjects, masters and proletarians, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, nobles and plebeians; the obligation of charity of the rich and the landowners is to help the poor and the destitute» [mentality of an omission’ sin: it’s enough that they then do "charity"].

The position of the Lord is very very different.

According to Lk the rich man is not the Blessed by God, as the patriarchs of the First Testament were considered.

His sought-after clothing is only a metaphor for the inner emptiness and ephemeral he basks in - what will later be corroded by moths.

His gorging is a sign of an intimate abyss to be bridged - a sort of nervous hunger.

«Eli hezer»: «God helps»; He doesn’t forget, on the contrary He’s definitely on the unsteady’ side. Therefore, that form of "enjoying life" is giving up living completely.

The evangelist doesn’t specify that Lazarus was a good and responsible person: just a poor.

Nor does he affirm that the “Dives” was a total criminal: if the indigent stopped outside his door and nowhere else, it means that was remedying something there.

But at that time there was no cutlery and rich men cleaned their fingers with the crumb, then thrown on the ground; the miserable ate of this.

A dog's life, worse than insults. And ignored.

Radical evil, which was not in the individual acts, rather in the depths of being, and in the consequent global carelessness.

Inattention that tends to choose consensus and hierarchies as the ultimate backdrop to existence.

Therefore the question that the passage of Lk reiterates is not trivially moralistic: merits or faults, juridical or religious.

The question arises about humanity itself: diminished, reduced, arid, incapacitated; unable to articulate a deliberate reversal.

Inextricably linked to the already dug abyss.

The Gospel wants to stimulate us to reflect not on the theme of lawful almsgiving, but on warning, and the Communion of resources: on the meaning of unbridled wealth alongside poverty.

Involuntary misery is often considered a situation by now habitual, but this drama affects persons and entire peoples.

And how can we distract from the seduction of material goods?

Overcoming the lures of money and the craving for accumulation which generates social paralysis and devastating humiliation, is a true miracle.

And neither a prodigy nor a vision can do a miracle of conscience (vv.29-31).

Least of all a common religion, if it tended to sacralize and not interfere, to make positions persist; to be complicit in manifacturing poor and rich, gaining on both.

In short, to build the Kingdom and change the divided world, it’s only worth letting oneself be educated by the Word of God.

Intimate Seed and Germ, Event-Therapy, Energetic Spirit and Call: which introduces into the active and nuptial awareness of Love.

Logos that places us in the right position. Exception Warning; not external.

Founding Eros that already here and now reverses situations.

[26th Sunday in O.T. (year C), September 28, 2025]

An external solution?

(Lk 16:19-31)

The reversal of situations in the afterlife is a theme that belongs to the entire culture of the ancient Middle East, an area strongly marked by social discrimination. But the meaning of the Gospel is profound.

The new CEI translation has correctly rendered the term Hades (v. 23) as 'underworld', no longer 'hell' [CEI '74], because the meaning of Jesus' parable is entirely focused on this world!

'Behind the clouds' has nothing to do with it. What interests the Lord is not so much the final fate as the current situation of those who listen to him - starting with his own followers: where are they going?

In the parables of Mercy and the forgiving Father (15:1-32), Luke announced that a lost man would be a defeat for God himself.

His unusual revelation prompts the envious top of the class to spy on the freedom that the newcomers to the Church allow themselves.

"Who authorised you to consider yourselves equal to others and undermine our precedence, without having gone through the whole process, the stubborn commitment and the efforts of us veterans?"

The pagans have an easy game (Lk 16:1-15): they accuse the elders of hiding their spirit of unshakeable greed under the ill-concealed guise of "homage", meritorious works, and hierarchical necessity.

The 'best' are easily caught red-handed, accustomed as they are to revering God in order to serve a completely different master - well hidden.

In fact, after telling the parable of the dishonest steward, Jesus himself hears sniggering behind him (Lk 16:14), not from sinners, but from devout and bigoted people.

They are the cunning members of the elite who are attached to material things and lovers of money (vv. 13-15) - accustomed to practising that ancient craft [easy, considered the right of religious leaders]. What the Lord had defined as incompatible ('abomination': v. 15): revering the Most High and pocketing his loot.

'Poor deluded man!' - the charlatans, false friends of God, would say of our Master: 'It is impossible to make followers without booty: the gratuitousness of love is a beautiful dream, but it raises nothing, does not gather proselytes and does not trigger the predatory instinct of the top of the class!'.

In today's Gospel passage, those who consider themselves entitled to precedence [in the community of children!] raise a question of apparent obviousness:

Is it not in the natural order of things that in human society there are first and last, learned and ignorant, sovereigns and subjects?

After all, the legal principle that governed all private property rights in the Latin world is also the motto of a well-known official newspaper: Unicuique Suum.

Even Leo XIII, the pope of social encyclicals, recognised that 'in human society, it is according to the order established by God that there are princes and subjects, masters and proletarians, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, nobles and plebeians; the obligation of charity on the part of the rich and the propertied is to provide for the poor and the needy' [a mentality of simple omission: it is enough that they then perform "charity"].

The Lord's position is very, very different. For Luke, the rich are not blessed by God, as the landowners were supposed to be - and so were the patriarchs of the First Testament.

His refined clothing is only a metaphor for the inner emptiness and transience he revels in - which will then be corroded by moths.

His gluttony is a sign of an inner abyss to be filled - a kind of nervous hunger that makes him feel dizzy.

'Eli hezer' ['Lazarus']: God helps, but not the glutton - according to the pious, sanctimonious and backward mentality.

He does not forget; on the contrary, he is decidedly on the side of the weak: Faith believes the opposite of archaic religions!

Therefore, the careless 'enjoyment of life' of the super-rich is to give up living completely: they do not even have a name - which is terrifying for the ancient mentality.

The evangelist does not specify that Lazarus may once have been a good and responsible person: he was simply poor.

Nor does he say that the great lord was a total criminal: apart from his 'blindness'... if the poor man preferred to stay outside his door and not elsewhere, it means that he got something there.

But at that time there was no cutlery and people cleaned their fingers with breadcrumbs, which were then thrown on the ground; the poor fed on these.

A dog's life, worse than insults. And ignored.

This is the root of evil: it was not in individual acts, but rather in the depths of being, and in the resulting global carelessness.

Carelessness that tends to choose consensus and hierarchies as the ultimate backdrop to existence.

Therefore, the question that Luke's passage reiterates is not trivially moralistic: merits or faults, legal or religious.

The question is about humanity itself: diminished, reduced, arid, incapacitated; incapable of bringing about a deliberate reversal.

Inextricably linked to the abysses already dug.The Gospel wants to stimulate us to reflect not on the theme of lawful almsgiving, but on the warning, and the communion of resources: on the meaning of unbridled wealth alongside poverty.

Involuntary poverty is often considered a normal situation, but this tragedy affects individuals and entire populations - forced from birth to death into an unbalanced or unsustainable reality.

In many areas, class disparities are even tending to worsen, perhaps due to the internal logic of an economic and social system that tends to concentrate power and direct resources.

In ancient times, the 'bosom of Abraham' (vv. 22-23) was the condition that recognised the success of God's plan, the place where the Promises of Israel were fulfilled.

Even today, those who do not feel that some people are wasting away in a world of misery, turning their lives into a failure, find themselves useless and empty, unable to reach the Light of Life.

Those who procrastinate - without encountering others - choose a form of existence that has nothing to do with the People of God; nothing to do with the Mystery of the Eternal One and his blessings.

How, then, can one avoid sinking into the abyss of insignificance?

It is not a fate due to ignorance or a spirit of revenge that clashes with the Father's plan for his children.

Being open to humanising sensitivity and the greatness of God's work is not a matter linked to some heavenly mechanism of revenge 'afterwards'.

Nor is it a matter of some kind of (albeit eloquent) external warning.

So how can we distract ourselves from the seduction of material goods?

Overcoming the attractions of money and the desire to accumulate wealth, which generates social paralysis and devastating humiliation, is a true miracle.

And a miracle of conscience cannot be achieved by an immediate prodigy or a vision (vv. 29-31).

Nor can it be achieved by a common religion, if it tends to sacralise and not interfere, to perpetuate positions; to become complicit in creating poor and rich, profiting from both.

What Jesus refers to is Listening. The 'Shema Israel' - recited twice every day.

In the extreme poverty of means, 'Hear, O Israel' is the Father's Call.

The Lord shares in the oppressed situation of too many of his children - unable to dress in expensive clothes or feast lavishly and frequently.

In short, to build the Kingdom and change the divided world, the only thing that counts is to allow oneself to be educated by the Word of God.

Intimate Seed and Germ, Therapy-event, Energetic Word and Call: which introduces us to the active and spousal awareness of Love.

Logos that places us in the right position. A unique warning; not external.

Founding Eros that already here and now overturns situations.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

Today, Luke's Gospel presents to us the parable of the rich man and poor Lazarus (Lk 16: 19-31). The rich man personifies the wicked use of riches by those who spend them on uncontrolled and selfish luxuries, thinking solely of satisfying themselves without caring at all for the beggar at their door. 

The poor man, on the contrary, represents the person whom God alone cares for: unlike the rich man he has a name: "Lazarus", an abbreviation of "Eleazarus", which means, precisely, "God helps him". 

God does not forget those who are forgotten by all; those who are worthless in human eyes are precious in the Lord's. The story shows how earthly wickedeness is overturned by divine justice: after his death, Lazarus was received "in the bosom of Abraham", that is, into eternal bliss; whereas the rich man ended up "in Hades, in torment". This is a new and definitive state of affairs against which no appeal can be made, which is why one must mend one's ways during one's life; to do so after serves no purpose. 

This parable can also be interpreted in a social perspective. Pope Paul VI's interpretation of it 40 years ago in his Encyclical Populorum Progressio remains unforgettable. Speaking of the campaign against hunger he wrote: "It is a question... of building a world where every man... can live a fully human life... where the poor man Lazarus can sit down at the same table with the rich man" (n. 47). 

The cause of the numerous situations of destitution, the Encyclical recalls, is on the one hand "servitude imposed.... by other men", and on the other, "natural forces over which [the person] has not sufficient control" (ibid.). 

Unfortunately, some populations suffer from both these factors. How can we fail to think at this time especially of the countries of Sub-Saharan Africa, affected by serious floods in the past few days? Nor can we forget the many other humanitarian emergencies in various regions of the planet, in which conflicts for political and economic power contribute to exacerbating existing, oppressive environmental situations. 

The appeal voiced by Paul VI at that time, "Today the peoples in hunger are making a dramatic appeal to the peoples blessed with abundance" (ibid., n. 3), is still equally pressing today. 

We cannot say that we do not know which way to take: we have the Law and the Prophets, Jesus tells us in the Gospel. Those who do not wish to listen to them would not change even if one of the dead were to return to admonish them. 

May the Virgin Mary help us to make the most of the present time to listen to and put into practice these words of God. May she obtain for us that we become more attentive to our brethren in need, to share with them the much or the little that we have and to contribute, starting with ourselves, to spreading the logic and style of authentic solidarity.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus, 30 September 2007]

With all my heart. I stress, here, the adjective "all". Totalitarianism, in politics, is an ugly thing. In religion, on the contrary, a totalitarianism on our side towards God is a very good thing. It is written: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. And these words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. And you shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates" (Dt 6:5-9). That "all" repeated and applied insistently is really the banner of Christian maximalism. And it is right: God is too great, he deserves too much from us for us to be able to throw to him, as to a poor Lazarus, a few crumbs of our time and our heart. He is infinite good and will be our eternal happiness: money, pleasure, the fortunes of this world, compared with him, are just fragments of good and fleeting moments of happiness. It would not be wise to give so much of ourselves to these things and little of ourselves to Jesus.

Above everything else. Now we come to a direct comparison between God and man, between God and the world. It would not be right to say: "Either God or man". We must love "both God and man"; the latter, however, never more than God or against God or as much as God. In other words: love of God, though prevalent, is not exclusive. The Bible declares Jacob holy (Dn 3:35) and loved by God (Mal 1:2; Rom 9:13), it shows him working for seven years to win Rachel as his wife; "and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (Gen 29:20). Francis de Sales makes a little comment on these words: "Jacob", he writes, "loves Rachel with all his might, and he loves God with all his might; but he does not therefore love Rachel as God nor God as Rachel. He loves God as his God above all things and more than himself; he loves Rachel as his wife above all other women and as himself. He loves God with absolutely and superbly supreme love, and Rachel with supreme husbandly love; one love is not contrary to the other because love of Rachel does not violate the supreme advantages of love of God " (St. Francis de Sales, Oeuvres, t. V, p. 175).

And for your sake I love my neighbour. Here we are in the presence of two loves which are "twin brothers" and inseparable. It is easy to love some persons; difficult to love others; we do not find them likeable, they have offended us and hurt us; only if I love God in earnest can I love them as sons of God and because he asks me to. Jesus also established how to love one's neighbour: that is, not only with feeling, but with facts. This is the way, he said. I will ask you: I was hungry in the person of my humbler brothers, did you give me food? Did you visit me, when I was sick (cf. Mt 25:34 ff).

The catechism puts these and other words of the Bible in the double list of the seven corporal works of mercy and the seven spiritual ones. The list is not complete and it would be necessary to update it. Among the starving, for example, today, it is no longer a question just of this or that individual; there are whole peoples.

We all remember the great words of Pope Paul VI: "Today the peoples in hunger are making a dramatic appeal to the peoples blessed with abundance. The Church shudders at this cry of anguish and calls each one to give a loving response of charity to this brother's cry for help" (Paul VI, Populorum Progressio, 3). At this point justice is added to charity, because, Paul VI says also, "Private property does not constitute for anyone an absolute and unconditioned right. No one is justified in keeping for his exclusive use what he does not need, when others lack necessities" (Paul VI, Populorum Progressio, 23). Consequently "every exhausting armaments race becomes an intolerable scandal" (Paul VI, Populorum Progressio, 53).

In the light of these strong expressions it can be seen how far we—individuals and peoples—still are from loving others "as ourselves", as Jesus commanded.

Another commandment: I forgive offences received. It almost seems that the Lord gives precedence to this forgiveness over worship: "So if you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23-24).

The last words of the prayer are: Lord, may I love you more and more. Here, too, there is obedience to a commandment of God, who put thirst for progress in our hearts. From pile-dwellings, caves and the first huts we have passed to houses, apartment buildings and skyscrapers; from journeys on foot, on the back of a mule or of a camel, to coaches, trains and aeroplanes. And people desire to progress further with more and more rapid means of transport, reaching more and more distant goals. But to love God, we have seen, is also a journey: God wants it to be more and more intense and perfect. He said to all his followers: "You are the light of the world, the salt of the earth" (Mt 5:13-14); "You must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). That means: to love God not a little, but so much; not to stop at the point at which we have arrived, but with his help, to progress in love.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 27 September 1978]

I should like to pause with you today on the parable of the rich man and the poor Lazarus. The lives of these two people seem to run on parallel tracks: their life status is opposite and not at all connected. The gate of the rich man’s house is always closed to the poor man, who lies outside it, seeking to eat the leftovers from the rich man’s table. The rich man is dressed in fine clothes, while Lazarus is covered with sores; the rich man feasts sumptuously every day, while Lazarus starves. Only the dogs take care of him, and they come to lick his wounds. This scene recalls the harsh reprimand of the Son of Man at the Last Judgement: “I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was [...] naked and you did not clothe me” (Mt 25:42-43). Lazarus is a good example of the silent cry of the poor throughout the ages and the contradictions of a world in which immense wealth and resources are in the hands of the few.

Jesus says that one day that rich man died: the poor and the rich die, they have the same destiny, like all of us, there are no exceptions to this. Thus, that man turned to Abraham, imploring him in the name of ‘father’ (vv. 24, 27). Thereby claiming to be his son, belonging to the People of God. Yet in life he showed no consideration toward God. Instead he made himself the centre of all things, closed inside his world of luxury and wastefulness. In excluding Lazarus, he did not take into consideration the Lord nor his law. To ignore a poor man is to scorn God! We must learn this well: to ignore the poor is to scorn God. There is a detail in the parable that is worth noting: the rich man has no name, but only an adjective: ‘the rich man’; while the name of the poor man is repeated five times, and ‘Lazarus’ means ‘God helps’. Lazarus, who is lying at the gate, is a living reminder to the rich man to remember God, but the rich man does not receive that reminder. Hence, he will be condemned not because of his wealth, but for being incapable of feeling compassion for Lazarus and for not coming to his aid.

In the second part of the parable, we again meet Lazarus and the rich man after their death (vv. 22-31). In the hereafter the situation is reversed: the poor Lazarus is carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom in heaven, while the rich man is thrown into torment. Thus the rich man “lifted up his eyes, and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus in his bosom”. He seems to see Lazarus for the first time, but his words betray him: “Father Abraham”, he calls, “have mercy upon me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in anguish in this flame”. Now the rich man recognizes Lazarus and asks for his help, while in life he pretended not to see him. How often do many people pretend not to see the poor! To them the poor do not exist. Before he denied him even the leftovers from his table, and now he would like him to bring him a drink! He still believes he can assert rights through his previous social status. Declaring it impossible to grant his request, Abraham personally offers the key to the whole story: he explains that good things and evil things have been distributed so as to compensate for earthly injustices, and the door that in life separated the rich from the poor is transformed into “a great chasm”. As long as Lazarus was outside his house, the rich man had the opportunity for salvation, to thrust open the door, to help Lazarus, but now that they are both dead, the situation has become irreparable. God is never called upon directly, but the parable clearly warns: God’s mercy toward us is linked to our mercy toward our neighbour; when this is lacking, also that of not finding room in our closed heart, He cannot enter. If I do not thrust open the door of my heart to the poor, that door remains closed. Even to God. This is terrible.

At this point, the rich man thinks about his brothers, who risk suffering the same fate, and he asks that Lazarus return to the world in order to warn them. But Abraham replies: “They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them”. In order to convert, we must not wait for prodigious events, but open our heart to the Word of God, which calls us to love God and neighbour. The Word of God may revive a withered heart and cure it of its blindness. The rich man knew the Word of God, but did not let it enter his heart, he did not listen to it, and thus was incapable of opening his eyes and of having compassion for the poor man. No messenger and no message can take the place of the poor whom we meet on the journey, because in them Jesus himself comes to meet us: “as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40), Jesus says. Thus hidden in the reversal of fate that the parable describes lies the mystery of our salvation, in which Christ links poverty with mercy.

Dear brothers and sisters, listening to this Gospel passage, all of us, together with the poor of the earth, can sing with Mary: “He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away” (Lk 1:52-53).

[Pope Francis, General Audience, 18 May 2016]

Creating abundance where there is none

(Lk 9:43b-45)

«Son of man» (v.44) is he who, having gone to the utmost human fullness, comes to reflect the divine condition - and radiates it, without narrow perspectives.

‘Son of man’ is the successful Son: the Person with a definitive step; Word made «brother», who in us aspires to the fullness spread throughout history.

It would seem not up to par; instead, it is indestructible weighing, inside each one who approaches such a ‘measure’ - encountering the divine markings that bring out who we are [and bring about rebirth].

In the Gospel passage it’s the Messiah who becomes a servant (!) and «next of kin» [close relative]: the one who in Semitic culture was held to ransom and liberate his enslaved family members.

However, there is a sharp contrast between what people dream and hope for, and the opinion of the authorities, challenged by this atmosphere of humanization with too wide outlines.

Since time immemorial, in order to block the search for the You-for-you, the face-to-face with God [and to direct consciences], the leaders concerned had filled minds with things of the past, or all conformist, and people's lives with problems that stalled the way.

The slave of the ancient customary religion, allied with power, lived under condemnation because he was outside his Home, thus in a reality that stagnated, accentuating ballasts and emphasizing limitations and feelings of subservience.

By disturbing everyone’s life wave.

In this way, the dull soul submitted to the outer cloak, blocking spontaneous energy. Wrapping all proposals that came from Providence, and its own resources, with dead things.

«Son of Man» is not a "religious" or selective title, but a possibility for all those who adhere to the Lord’s life proposal, and reinterpret it in a creative way.

They transcend the firm, natural boundaries, making room for the Gift, receiving from God the fullness of being, in its new, unrepeatable tracks.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, they discover other facets, they change the way of being with themselves, and can grow, realize themselves, flourish, radiating the completeness they have received.

By emanating a different atmosphere, the person integrated in his or her even opposite sides, feels consciousnesses arise, creates projects, emits and attracts other energies; makes them activate.

Thus God wants to extend the sphere in which He "reigns" - relating to all humanity, a Church without visible boundaries.

In short, in the icon of the «Son of man» the evangelists want to indicate the triumph of the human over the inhuman, and the progressive disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of the vital wave.

The People that shines in a divine way is no longer entangled, indeed it brings to the maximum all its varied potential for love, for the outpouring of life.

«Son of man» - a possible reality - is anyone who achieves fullness, flowering of the ability to be, in the extension of relationships... in tune with the sphere of God the Creator, Lover of life.

He/she does it so in varied facets, and merges with Him - becoming One. By creating abundance.

«Son of man» is woman or man who behave on earth as God himself would do, who makes the divine and his strength present in history.

So they can afford to replace both gloomy seriousness and superficiality, with a wise ‘carefreeness’ that makes everything light.

«Son of Man» represents the maximum of the human, the Person par excellence, who becomes liberating instead of oppressive.

The consequences are unimaginable, because each of us in Christ and for the brothers no longer has dead, abstract, (or of others) paths to be redone.

[Saturday 25th wk. in O.T.  September 27, 2025]

Creating abundance where there is none

(Lk 9:43b-45)

'Son of God' is Christ who manifests God in the human condition. 'Son of man' is Jesus manifesting man in the divine condition.

'Son of man' (v.44) is the one who, having gone to the utmost human fullness, comes to reflect the divine condition - and radiates it, without narrow perspectives.

In short, 'Son of Man' is the trustworthy, authentic person; even the 'little one' - without even a legacy of just and invariable ideas, or forces of the same level, and always performing.

"Son of Man" is here the successful Son: the Person with the definitive step. Word made "brother", who in us aspires to the fullness spread throughout history.

It would seem to fall short; instead, it is indestructible charature, within each one who approaches such 'measure' - encountering the divine marks that bring out what we are [and are born again].

In the Gospel passage, it is the Messiah who becomes a servant (!) and becomes the 'next of kin': the one who in Semitic culture was held to ransom and liberate his enslaved kin.

There is, however, a sharp contrast between what the people dream and hope for, and the opinion of the authorities, who are challenged by this atmosphere of humanisation with its overly broad contours.

Established and official teachers of the spirit were at ease in the narrow sphere: accentuating guilt, disfiguring people; making them needy, childish - instead of adult, secure, emancipated.

Even the religious institution trembled: the divine condition diffused in the lives of women and men made autonomous and able to stand on their own two feet would make any mediating structure superfluous.

Since time immemorial, in order to block the search for the You-for-you, the face-to-face with God [and to direct consciences], the leaders concerned had filled minds with things of the past, or all conformist, and people's lives with problems that stalled the way.

The slave of the customary ancient religion, allied with power, lived under condemnation, because it was outside its home. In a reality that stagnated, or advanced in a severely moralistic manner.

Such confusion stranded souls - even more so by accentuating ballasts, emphasising limitations, and feelings of subservience. Disturbing the life-wave of each one.

The logic of the old masters was unacceptable, both from the point of view of personal fulfilment and for living together.

In any sphere, the criterion of the self-loving big-wigs was in force.

Everything was in accordance with the principle that he who stands still is best controlled, stays where you put him, and cannot have passions; therefore he does not set anything in motion. 

Under the enormous social conditioning, the dull soul was forced to submit to the outer cloak, which willingly blocked the spontaneous energy of souls, and of the world.

Even today, perhaps, there are still agencies of plagiarism that cloak all the proposals of Providence, and the very resources of women and men, or of charisma, with things already dead or abstract [mannered, external].

The true Son, on the other hand, conquers spaces of freedom, not so much from errors, as from egoism that annihilates communion, from self-love that refuses to listen, from standardisation that cancels uniqueness, from conformism that makes exceptionalism pale, from envy that separates and blocks the exchange of gifts, from competition, even spiritual competition that drugs us; from the sloth of those who believe they are not worth enough, which discourages and paralyses.

'Son of Man' is therefore not a 'religious' or selective title, but a possibility for all those who adhere to the Lord's proposal of life, and reinterpret it creatively.

They overcome the firm and proper natural boundaries, making room for the Gift; welcoming from God the fullness of being, in his new, unrepeatable tracks.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, they discover other facets, change the way they are with themselves, and can grow: they realise themselves, they flourish; they radiate the wholeness they have received.

Coming out of the poor or static idea we have of ourselves - a serious problem in many sensitive and dedicated souls - the relational personality can also begin to imagine.

And to dream, discovering that it can no longer give weight to those who want to condition its path as a person, in fullness of being, character, vocation.

He who activates the idea that he can do it, then transmits the power of the Spirit he has received and welcomed, and the universe around him blossoms.

Emanating a different atmosphere, the person integrated in his or her even opposite sides, feels consciousnesses arise, creates projects, emits and attracts other energies; makes them activate.

By relating interpersonally, God wants to extend the sphere in which he "reigns" - to all mankind.

Church without visible boundaries, which will begin with the 'Son of Man'. A figure not exclusive to Jesus.Son of David and Son of Man

This universalistic perspective emerges, inter alia, from the presentation Jesus made of himself not only as "Son of David", but as "Son of Man" (Mk 10:33). The title "Son of Man", in the language of the Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), recalls the character who comes "with the clouds of heaven" (v. 13) and is an image that heralds an entirely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to Himself to manifest the true character of His messianism, as a mission destined for the whole man and every man, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters into this new kingdom, which the Church announces and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion.

[Pope Benedict, Consistory 24 November 2012].

With the image of the Son of Man, the prophet Daniel already wanted to indicate an overturning of the criteria of human and divine authenticity: a man or a people, a leader, finally with a heart of flesh instead of a beast.

In the icon of the 'Son of Man', the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman; the progressive disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full existence, of totality of profound energy.

The divinely shining people are no longer entangled by fears, manipulations, or hysteria; on the contrary, they bring to the full all their varied potential of love, of outpouring of life.

The 'Son of Man' - a possible reality - is anyone who achieves completeness, the blossoming of the capacity to be, in the extension of relationships. With this, he enters into harmony with the sphere of God the Creator, the Lover of life.

It does so in its varied facets, and merges with Him - becoming One. Creating abundance; not a false identity.

"The 'Son of Man' is the man who behaves on earth as God himself would; in short, who makes the divine present and its power unfolded in history.

So he can afford to replace the gloomy seriousness of the pious and subservient being, or the superficiality of the sophisticated and disembodied, with the wise 'light-heartedness' that makes everything light [because it rhymes with naturalness].

'Son of Man' depicts the ultimate human, the Person par excellence - in its eminent Self, which becomes liberating instead of oppressive.

The consequences are unimaginable, because each one of us in Christ and for our brothers and sisters, no longer has dead, abstract, or other people's paths to tread.

To internalise and live the message:

How does the 'Son of Man' figure speak to you of your own personal thoughts and hopes, and what is the difference or contrast with the thoughts and hopes of the manipulators?

Jesus' prayer in the imminence of death - Lk

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

At our school of prayer last Wednesday I spoke of Jesus’ prayer on the Cross, taken from Psalm 22[21]: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”. I would now like to continue to meditate on the prayer of Jesus on the Cross in the imminence of death. Today, I would like to reflect on the account we find in St Luke’s Gospel. The Evangelist has passed down to us three words spoken by Jesus on the Cross, two of which — the first and the third— are prayers explicitly addressed to the Father. The second, instead, consists of the promise made to the so-called “good thief”, crucified with him; indeed, in response to the thief’s entreaty, Jesus reassures him: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43).

Thus in Luke’s narrative the two prayers that the dying Jesus addresses to the Father and his openness to the supplication addressed to him by the repentant sinner are evocatively interwoven. Jesus calls on the Father and at the same time listens to the prayer of this man who is often called latro poenitens, “the repentant thief”.

Let us reflect on these three prayers of Jesus. He prays the first one immediately after being nailed to the Cross, while the soldiers are dividing his garments between them as a wretched reward for their service. In a certain sense the process of the Crucifixion ends with this action. St Luke writes: “When they came to the place which is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on the right and one on the left. And Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do’. And they cast lots and to divide his garments” (23:33-34).

The first prayer that Jesus addresses to the Father is a prayer of intercession; he asks for forgiveness for his executioners. By so doing, Jesus is doing in person what he had taught in the Sermon on the Mount when he said: “I say to you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you” (Lk 6:27); and he had also promised to those who are able to forgive: “your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High” (v. 35). Now, from the Cross he not only pardons his executioners but he addresses the Father directly, interceding for them.

Jesus’ attitude finds a moving “imitation” in the account of the stoning of St Stephen, the first martyr. Indeed Stephen, now nearing his end, “knelt down and cried with a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them’. And when he had said this, he fell asleep” (Acts 7:60): these were his last words. The comparison between Jesus’ prayer for forgiveness and that of the protomartyr is significant. St Stephen turns to the Risen Lord and requests that his killing — an action described clearly by the words “this sin” — not be held against those who stoned him.

Jesus on the Cross addresses the Father and not only asks forgiveness for those who crucify him but also offers an interpretation of what is happening. According to what he says, in fact, the men who are crucifying him “know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). He therefore postulates ignorance, “not knowing”, as a reason for his request for the Father’s forgiveness, because it leaves the door open to conversion, as, moreover, happens in the words that the centurion was to speak at Jesus’ death: “Certainly this man was innocent” (v. 47), he was the Son of God. “It remains a source of comfort for all times and for all people that both in the case of those who genuinely did not know (his executioners) and in the case of those who did know (the people who condemned him), the Lord makes ignorance the motive for his plea for forgiveness: he sees it as a door that can open us to conversion” (Jesus of Nazareth, II, [San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2011], p. 208).

The second word spoken by Jesus on the Cross recorded by St Luke is a word of hope, it is his answer to the prayer of one of the two men crucified with him. The good thief comes to his senses before Jesus and repents, he realizes he is facing the Son of God who makes the very Face of God visible, and begs him; “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingly power” (v. 42). The Lord’s answer to this prayer goes far beyond the request: in fact he says: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (v. 43). Jesus knows that he is entering into direct communion with the Father and reopening to man the way to God’s paradise. Thus, with this response, he gives the firm hope that God’s goodness can also touch us, even at the very last moment of life, and that sincere prayer, even after a wrong life, encounters the open arms of the good Father who awaits the return of his son.

However, let us consider the last words of Jesus dying. The Evangelists tells us: “it was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!’. And having said this he breathed his last” (vv. 44-46).

Certain aspects of this narrative differ from the scene as described in Mark and in Matthew. The three hours of darkness in Mark are not described, whereas in Matthew they are linked with a series of different apocalyptic events such as the quaking of the earth, the opening of the tombs, the dead who are raised (cf. Mt 27:51-53). In Luke, the hours of darkness are caused by the eclipse of the sun, but the veil of the temple is torn at that moment. In this way Luke’s account presents two signs, in a certain way parallel, in the heavens and in the temple. The heavens lose their light, the earth sinks while in the temple, a place of God’s presence, the curtain that protects the sanctuary is rent in two. Jesus’ death is characterized explicitly as a cosmic and a liturgical event; in particular, it marks the beginning of a new form of worship, in a temple not built by men because it is the very Body of Jesus who died and rose which gathers peoples together and unites them in the sacrament of his Body and his Blood.

At this moment of suffering Jesus’ prayer, “Father into your hands I commit my spirit”, is a loud cry of supreme and total entrustment to God. This prayer expresses the full awareness that he had not been abandoned. The initial invocation — “Father” — recalls his first declaration as a 12-year-old boy. At that time he had stayed for three days in the Temple of Jerusalem, whose veil was now torn in two. And when his parents had told him of their anxiety, he had answered: “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (Lk 2:49).

From the beginning to the end, what fully determines Jesus’ feelings, words and actions, is his unique relationship with the Father. On the Cross he lives to the full, in love, this filial relationship he has with God which gives life to his prayer.

The words spoken by Jesus after his invocation, “Father”, borrow a sentence from Psalm 31[30]: “into your hand I commit my spirit” (Ps 31[30]:6). Yet these words are not a mere citation but rather express a firm decision: Jesus “delivers” himself to the Father in an act of total abandonment. These words are a prayer of “entrustment” total trust in God’s love. Jesus’ prayer as he faces death is dramatic as it is for every human being but, at the same time, it is imbued with that deep calmness that is born from trust in the Father and from the desire to commend oneself totally to him.

In Gethsemane, when he had begun his final struggle and his most intense prayer and was about to be “delivered into the hands of men” (Lk 9:44), his sweat had become “like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground” (Lk 22:44). Nevertheless his heart was fully obedient to the Father’s will, and because of this “an angel from heaven” came to strengthen him (cf. Lk 22:42-43). Now, in his last moments, Jesus turns to the Father, telling him into whose hands he really commits his whole life.

Before starting out on his journey towards Jerusalem, Jesus had insisted to his disciples: “Let these words sink into your ears; for the Son of man is to be delivered into the hands of men” (Lk 9:44).

Now that life is about to depart from him, he seals his last decision in prayer: Jesus let himself be delivered “into the hands of men”, but it is into the hands of the Father that he places his spirit; thus — as the Evangelist John affirms — all was finished, the supreme act of love was carried to the end, to the limit and beyond the limit.

Dear brothers and sisters, the words of Jesus on the Cross at the last moments of his earthly life offer us demanding instructions for our prayers, but they also open us to serene trust and firm hope. Jesus, who asks the Father to forgive those who are crucifying him, invites us to take the difficult step of also praying for those who wrong us, who have injured us, ever able to forgive, so that God’s light may illuminate their hearts; and he invites us to live in our prayers the same attitude of mercy and love with which God treats us; “forgive us our trespasses and forgive those who trespass against us”, we say every day in the Lord’s prayer.

At the same time, Jesus, who at the supreme moment of death entrusts himself totally to the hands of God the Father, communicates to us the certainty that, however harsh the trial, however difficult the problems, however acute the suffering may be, we shall never fall from God’s hands, those hands that created us, that sustain us and that accompany us on our way through life, because they are guided by an infinite and faithful love.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 15 February 2012]