Dear brothers and sisters,

[...] the liturgical Memorial of the martyrdom of St John the Baptist, the Precursor of Jesus. In the Roman Calendar, he is the only saint whose birth and death, through martyrdom, are celebrated on the same day (in his case, 24 June). Today’s Memorial commemoration dates back to the dedication of a crypt in Sebaste, Samaria, where his head had already been venerated since the middle of the fourth century. The devotion later extended to Jerusalem, both in the Churches of the East and in Rome, with the title of the Beheading of St John the Baptist. In the Roman Martyrology reference is made to a second discovery of the precious relic, translated for the occasion to the Church of San Silvestro in Campo Marzio, Rome.

These small historical references help us to understand how ancient and deeply-rooted is the veneration of John the Baptist. His role in relation to Jesus stands out clearly in the Gospels. St Luke in particular recounts his birth, his life in the wilderness and his preaching, while in today’s Gospel St Mark tells us of his dramatic death. John the Baptist began his preaching under the Emperor Tiberius in about 27-28 A.D., and the unambiguous invitation he addressed to the people, who flocked to listen to him, was to prepare the way to welcome the Lord, to straighten the crooked paths of their lives through a radical conversion of heart (cf. Lk 3:4).

However, John the Baptist did not limit himself to teaching repentance or conversion. Instead, in recognizing Jesus as the “Lamb of God” who came to take away the sin of the world (Jn 1:29), he had the profound humility to hold up Jesus as the One sent by God, drawing back so that he might take the lead, and be heard and followed. As his last act the Baptist witnessed with his blood to faithfulness to God’s commandments, without giving in or withdrawing, carrying out his mission to the very end. In the 9th century the Venerable Bede says in one of his Homilies: “St John gave his life for [Christ]. He was not ordered to deny Jesus Christ, but was ordered to keep silent about the truth” (cf. Homily 23: CCL 122, 354). And he did not keep silent about the truth and thus died for Christ who is the Truth. Precisely for love of the truth he did not stoop to compromises and did not fear to address strong words to anyone who had strayed from God’s path.

We see this great figure, this force in the Passion, in resistance to the powerful. We wonder: what gave birth to this life, to this interiority so strong, so upright, so consistent, spent so totally for God in preparing the way for Jesus? The answer is simple: it was born from the relationship with God, from prayer, which was the thread that guided him throughout his existence. John was the divine gift for which his parents Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for so many years (cf. Lk 1:13); a great gift, humanly impossible to hope for, because they were both advanced in years and Elizabeth was barren (cf. Lk 1:7); yet nothing is impossible to God (cf. Lk 1:36). The announcement of this birth happened precisely in the place of prayer, in the temple of Jerusalem, indeed it happened when Zechariah had the great privilege of entering the holiest place in the temple to offer incense to the Lord (cf. Lk 1:8-20). John the Baptist’s birth was also marked by prayer: the Benedictus, the hymn of joy, praise and thanksgiving which Zechariah raises to the Lord and which we recite every morning in Lauds, exalts God’s action in history and prophetically indicates the mission of their son John: to go before the Son of God made flesh to prepare his ways (cf. Lk 1:67-79).

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus was nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period he spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80). The desert regions are places of temptation but also where man acquires a sense of his own poverty because once deprived of material support and security, he understands that the only steadfast reference point is God himself. John the Baptist, however, is not only a man of prayer, in permanent contact with God, but also a guide in this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, recalling the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples, the Our Father, notes that the request was formulated by the disciples in these words: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his own disciples” (cf. Lk 11:1).

Dear brothers and sisters, celebrating the martyrdom of St John the Baptist reminds us too, Christians of this time, that with love for Christ, for his words and for the Truth, we cannot stoop to compromises. The Truth is Truth; there are no compromises. Christian life demands, so to speak, the “martyrdom” of daily fidelity to the Gospel, the courage, that is, to let Christ grow within us and let him be the One who guides our thought and our actions. However, this can happen in our life only if we have a solid relationship with God. Prayer is not time wasted, it does not take away time from our activities, even apostolic activities, but exactly the opposite is true: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant and trusting life of prayer will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to surmount difficulties and to witness courageously to him. St John the Baptist, intercede for us, that we may be ever able to preserve the primacy of God in our life. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012]

1. Today, 29 August, Christian tradition commemorates the martyrdom of St John the Baptist; the Messiah himself says in praise of him: "none born of woman is greater" (cf. Lk 7: 28). He gave to God the supreme witness of his blood, sacrificing his life for truth and justice; indeed, his head was cut off at the orders of Herod, whom he had dared to tell that it was not lawful to take his brother's wife (cf. Mc 6: 17-29).

2. In the Encyclical Veritatis Splendor, recalling the sacrifice of John the Baptist (cf. n. 91), I observed that martyrdom is "an outstanding sign of the holiness of the Church" (n. 93). Indeed, it "represents the high point of the witness to moral truth" (ibid.).

Although relatively few are called to make this supreme sacrifice, it is nonetheless "a consistent witness which all Christians must daily be ready to make, even at the cost of suffering and grave sacrifice" (ibid.). At times, a truly heroic effort is also needed in daily life, in order not to give in to the difficulties that are an incentive to compromise and to live the Gospel "sine glossa".

3. The heroic example of John the Baptist reminds us of the martyrs for the faith who down the centuries followed courageously in his footsteps. I recall in particular the multitude of Christians in the last century who were also victims of religious hatred in various European nations. Today too, in some parts of the world, believers are still subjected to harsh trials for adhering to Christ and his Church.

May these brothers and sisters of ours feel the full solidarity of the entire Ecclesial Community! Let us entrust them to the Blessed Virgin, Queen of Martyrs, whom we call on together at this moment.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 29 August 2004]

A man, John, and a road, which is that of Jesus, indicated by the Baptist, but is also ours, in which we are all called at the moment of trial.

It starts from the figure of John, "the great John: in the words of Jesus "the greatest man born of a woman"" the reflection of Pope Francis in the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Friday 6 February. The Gospel of Mark (6:14-29) recounts the imprisonment and martyrdom of this "man faithful to his mission; the man who suffered many temptations" and who "never, never betrayed his vocation". A man 'faithful' and 'of great authority, respected by all: the great of that time'.

Pope Francis paused to analyse his figure: 'What came out of his mouth was right. His heart was just'. He was so great that "Jesus will also say of him that 'it is Elijah who has returned, to clean the house, to prepare the way'". And John "was conscious that his duty was only to proclaim: to announce the proximity of the Messiah. He was conscious, as St Augustine makes us reflect, that he was the voice only, the Word was another'. Even when "he was tempted to "rob" this truth, he remained just: "I am not, behind me comes, but I am not: I am the servant; I am the servant; I am the one who opens the doors, so that he may come".

At this point the Pontiff introduced the concept of the way, because, he recalled, 'John is the forerunner: forerunner not only of the Lord's entry into public life, but of the Lord's entire life'. The Baptist 'goes forward in the Lord's way; he bears witness to the Lord not only by showing him - "This is it!" - but also by bringing life to the end as the Lord has brought it'. And by ending his life "with martyrdom" he was "a forerunner of the life and death of Jesus Christ".

The Pope went on to reflect on these parallel paths along which "the great" suffers "many trials and becomes small, small, small to the point of contempt". John, like Jesus, "annihilates himself, he knows the road of annihilation. John, with all that authority, thinking about his life, comparing it with that of Jesus, tells people who he is, what his life will be like: 'It is better for him to grow, I instead must diminish'". This, the Pope stressed, is "the life of John: to diminish before Christ, so that Christ may grow". It is "the life of the servant who makes room, makes way for the Lord to come".

John's life "was not easy": in fact, "when Jesus began his public life", he was "close to the Essenes, that is, to the observants of the law, but also of prayers, of penances". Thus, at a certain point, during the time he was in prison, 'he suffered the ordeal of darkness, of the night in his soul'. And that scene, Francis commented, "moved: the great, the greatest sent two disciples to Jesus to ask him: 'But John asks you: is it you or have I made a mistake and must we wait for someone else?'" Along John's path therefore came 'the darkness of error, the darkness of a life burnt in error. And this was a cross for him".

To John's question "Jesus answers with the words of Isaiah": the Baptist "understands, but his heart remains in darkness". Nevertheless he lends himself to the demands of the king, 'who liked to hear him, who liked to lead an adulterous life', and 'almost became a court preacher, of this perplexed king'. But "he humbled himself" because "he thought he was converting this man".

Finally, the Pope said, 'after this purification, after this continuous descent into annihilation, making way for the annihilation of Jesus, his life ends'. That king from being perplexed 'becomes capable of a decision, but not because his heart has been converted'; rather 'because the wine gives him courage'.

And so John ends his life 'under the authority of a mediocre, drunken and corrupt king, at the whim of a dancer and the vengeful hatred of an adulteress'. Thus 'ends the great, the greatest man born of woman', commented Francis, who confessed: 'When I read this passage, I am moved'. And he added a useful consideration for the spiritual life of every Christian: "I think of two things: first, I think of our martyrs, the martyrs of our day, those men, women, children who are persecuted, hated, driven from their homes, tortured, massacred". And this, he stressed, 'is not a thing of the past: this happens today. Our martyrs, who end their lives under the corrupt authority of people who hate Jesus Christ'. Therefore, "it is good for us to think about our martyrs. Today we think of Paul Miki, but that was in the 1600s. Let us think of those of today, of 2015".

The Pontiff went on to add that this passage also prompts him to reflect on himself: 'I too will end. All of us will end. No one's life is 'bought'. We too, willingly or unwillingly, go down the road of the existential annihilation of life'. And this, he said, prompts him "to pray that this annihilation resembles Jesus Christ, his annihilation, as much as possible".

This closes the circle of Francis' meditation: 'John, the great, who continually diminishes to nothingness; the martyrs, who diminish today, in our Church of today, to nothingness; and we, who are on this road and going towards the earth, where we will all end'. In this sense the Pope's final prayer: "May the Lord enlighten us, make us understand this road of John, the forerunner of the road of Jesus; and the road of Jesus, who teaches us how ours should be."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 07.02.2015]

(Mt 23:27-32)

John Chrysostom writes in his Commentary on the Gospel of Mt:

«If the conscience of each one could be opened, how many worms, how much rottenness and what unimaginable filth we would find in it. Vile and perverse desires, more filthy than the worms themselves» (73:2).

In his effective Commentary on the Gospel of Mt, St Jerome writes:

«The sepulchres on the outside are white with lime, adorned with marble and gold, resplendent in their colours; but inside they are full of the bones of the dead. So also the perverse teachers, who say one thing and do another: in dress they show purity and in speech humility; but inside they are full of all decay and impure desire» (4).

Jesus takes a stand against hypocrisy and inconsistent extrinsicism. He does so against authorities who save clothing, ideas and image, but radically unfaithful.

He regrets that they appear fictitious and correct, while inside they are a total denial of the respect for God that they showcase.

Thus they let the dark side of the world stagnate, instead of helping us to remove it.

The ostentatious pity for the great ancestors denounces a guilt complex (vv.29-32), not a profoundly intimate key feature - a unifying sphere of being and acting.

Spiritual masters are in the field not to show off - but to benefit, to give colour, new life; to promote authentic and cheering, creative situations.

The Lord proposes a renewal that reaches deep within, more intimate than the epidermal fuss; that touches the place and dimension of the encounter with the Father.

He is not content with 'monuments' with unseemly surprise, inside.

We are always tempted to remain on the level of an embellished surface, seeking easy and immediate gratification, esteem, honour - especially we priests, who not infrequently like to lull ourselves into accolades.

We satisfy ourselves with epidermal things, why? Encountering oneself, others and reality requires an onerous commitment: that of questioning oneself; stepping out of forms, and external fashions.

The whitewashed tombs appear sacred and graceful, but one knows what they sometimes contain.

Not always crystal-clear diamonds; not always expressions of a direct line with others and with God.

In short, the conspicuousness of pomp and paraphernalia, or winking patinas, is a kind of projection.

Artifice that does not allow thoughts to be processed; it only drives away tiring nightmares - in the most childish way.

Love, on the other hand, lives on real sparks - it does not cross them unscathed by contenting itself with self-representation in decorative signs, or in ideology that lures the naive.

Screens of incredible emptiness.

While recognizing the facets of great artistic expression and differing opinions as legitimate, Jesus would have subscribed to a principle of the Puritan laity: «The greater the ceremonies, the lesser the Truth».

[Wednesday 21st wk. in O.T.  August 28, 2024]

Parveniences: empty

(Mt 23:27-32)

John Chrysostom writes in his Commentary on the Gospel of Mt:

"If one could open the conscience of each one, how many worms, how much rottenness and what unimaginable filth we would find in it. Filthy and perverse desires, filthier than the worms themselves" (73:2).

Perhaps we were taken aback by the Pope's stern commitment against cheerful, casual and ambiguous forms of property management, and in the field of morality within the Catholic Church - a veritable clerical reclamation, which went as far as the reopening of prisons.

But by taking a stand against the system of grand parveniences [hypocrisy and incoherent extrinsicism] Jesus increases the dose.

He does so against the ancient authorities, religious leaders and traders in the sacred - leaders who save their robes, ideas and image, but who are radically unfaithful.

He pities their fictitious and correct appearance, while inside they are a total denial of the respect for God that they showcase.

Thus they stagnate the dark side of the world, instead of helping us to remove it.

The ostentatious pity for the great ancestors denounces a guilt complex (vv.29-32), not a profoundly intimate figure - a unifying ambit of being and acting.

Hysteria that exorcises the vice of the 'chosen ones' of all time: getting out of the way of those who unmask their empty existence; as well as their well-adorned, cerebral or legalistic ascendancy, which still forces the lives of so many people into the tombs.

Spiritual teachers are in the field not to show off - nor to incarnate themselves as threatening guides.

They must act to benefit, to give colour, new lifeblood; to promote authentic situations and new, cheering and creative content.

In his timely Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, St Jerome writes:

"The sepulchres on the outside are white with lime, adorned with marble and gold, resplendent in their colours; but inside they are full of the bones of the dead. So also the perverse teachers, who say one thing and do another: in dress they show purity and in speech humility; but inside they are full of all decay and impure desire" (4).

The Lord proposes a renewal that reaches deep within, more intimate than epidermal agitation; that touches the place and dimension of the encounter with the Father.

He is not content with 'monuments' with a little surprise inside.

We are always tempted to remain on the plane of an embellished surface, in search of easy and immediate satisfaction, esteem, honour - especially we priests, who not infrequently like to lull ourselves in futile accolades.

And our various theatres of conspicuous but deaf religiosity are largely willing to make up with spiritual rank the membership of the great priests in the civilisation of fictions - clean and ornate.

We satisfy ourselves with epidermal things, why? Meeting oneself, others and reality requires a heavy commitment: that of questioning oneself; stepping out of forms, and external fashions.

But good manners are not enough, to cover so many bad habits.

The false security of presenting our soap opera façade is no longer enough: a figure set up by the even religious and pious rank one wishes to display.

The hypocrisy of accommodated interpretations or blatant characterisations is a not infrequently disguised and even criminal attitude.

It is blithely leading us to the dark evil of the most decadent vacuity, and widespread sadness.

The whitewashed tombs of our early graveyard appear sacred and gracious, but one knows what they sometimes contain.

Not always crystal-clear diamonds; not always expressions of a direct line with others and with God.

So the surprising commitment of today's hierarchies to internal purification remains a fixed point, entirely appropriate.

It is life that counts and must be promoted, not the papery appearance of all that is unknown or covered up in our homes.

On the contrary, it is precisely the mannerists or modernists, the facade moralisers, the most vain protagonists of ritual or à la page beauty... that turn out to be the worst people - with a double life; lovers of a satrap style [perhaps for social redemption].

Here is the confusing of ideas even to oneself, and the paradoxical work of disidentification.

In short, the gaudiness of pomp and paraphernalia, or of patinas that always wink, is a kind of projection.

It is an artifice that does not allow thoughts to be processed; it only drives away tiring nightmares - in the most puerile way.

Love, on the other hand, lives on real sparks - it does not cross them unscathed by settling for self-representation in decorative signs, or in ideology that lures the naive.

Screens of incredible emptiness.

While recognising the facets of great artistic expressions and differing opinions as legitimate, Jesus would have subscribed to the principle of the Anglo-Saxon Puritan laity: 'The greater the ceremonies, the lesser the Truth'.To internalise and live the message:

What clerical hypocrisies [or adherence-scapegoats] bother you, despite their pomp?

The hypocritical accusers pretend to entrust the judgement to him whereas it is actually he himself whom they wish to accuse and judge. Jesus, on the other hand, is "full of grace and truth" (Jn 1: 14): he can read every human heart, he wants to condemn the sin but save the sinner, and unmask hypocrisy. St John the Evangelist highlights one detail: while his accusers are insistently interrogating him, Jesus bends down and starts writing with his finger on the ground. St Augustine notes that this gesture portrays Christ as the divine legislator: in fact, God wrote the law with his finger on tablets of stone (cf. Commentary on John's Gospel, 33,5). Thus Jesus is the Legislator, he is Justice in person. And what is his sentence? "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her". These words are full of the disarming power of truth that pulls down the wall of hypocrisy.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 21 March 2010]

2. The present-day mentality, more perhaps than that of people in the past, seems opposed to a God of mercy, and in fact tends to exclude from life and to remove from the human heart the very idea of mercy. The word and the concept of "mercy" seem to cause uneasiness in man, who, thanks to the enormous development of science and technology, never before known in history, has become the master of the earth and has subdued and dominated.

15. Let us offer up our petitions, directed by the faith, by the hope, and by the charity which Christ has planted in our hearts. This attitude is likewise love of God, whom modern man has sometimes separated far from himself, made extraneous to himself, proclaiming in various ways that God is "superfluous." This is, therefore, love of God, the insulting rejection of whom by modern man we feel profoundly, and we are ready to cry out with Christ on the cross: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."137 At the same time it is love of people, of all men and women without any exception or division: without difference of race, culture, language, or world outlook, without distinction between friends and enemies. This is love for people-it desires every true good for each individual and for every human community, every family, every nation, every social group, for young people, adults, parents, the elderly-a love for everyone, without exception. This is love, or rather an anxious solicitude to ensure for each individual every true good and to remove and drive away every sort of evil.

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

When it is said of someone that they are a person with a double life, it is not to pay them a compliment. On the contrary. It is those people who irritate, cause indignation, or often even disgust with behaviour that contradicts the things that they are paying lip service to. Whether it is a politician or a neighbour makes little difference: discovering, so to speak, a 'double life', is something that always hurts. And let us not mention the disillusionment it can generate, especially in young people.

But if preaching well and braying badly is always an irritating thing, when it is a priest doing it, it is even more intolerable. Because there is something more at stake. Pope Francis said it very clearly, and as always in a very direct and effective style, a few days ago. When, in the homily of the morning Mass at Santa Marta, he stressed how "it is ugly to see pastors of double life", indeed it is a real "wound in the Church". For the Pope, they are "sick pastors, who have lost their authority and go on in this double life"; and, he added, "there are many ways of carrying on the double life: but it is double ... And Jesus is very strong with them. Not only does he tell people not to listen to them but not to do what they do, but what does he say to them? "You are whited sepulchres": beautiful in doctrine, from the outside. But inside, rottenness. This is the end of the pastor who has no closeness with God in prayer and with people in compassion'.

For it is this that makes the difference. Francis reiterates it firmly: 'What gives a pastor authority or awakens the authority that is given by the Father, is closeness: closeness to God in prayer and closeness to people. The pastor detached from the people does not reach the people with the message. Closeness, this double closeness. This is the anointing of the pastor who is moved by God's gift in prayer, and can be moved by people's sins, problems, illnesses: let the pastor be moved. The scribes ... had lost the 'ability' to be moved precisely because 'they were not close either to the people or to God'". And without this closeness, or when for whatever reason it is lost, 'the shepherd ends up in inconsistency of life'.

It seems like re-reading the words that John Paul II, in his Holy Thursday letter addressed to priests around the world in 1986, dedicated to the Holy Curate of Ars, pointing to him, on the second centenary of his birth, as an example for all priests. 'It is certainly not a matter of forgetting,' wrote Benedict XVI, again on St John Mary Vianney, in his letter of indiction for the 2009 Year for Priests, 'that the substantial effectiveness of the ministry remains independent of the holiness of the minister; but neither can we overlook the extraordinary fruitfulness generated by the encounter between the objective holiness of the ministry and the subjective holiness of the minister. The Curé d'Ars immediately began this humble and patient work of harmonisation between his life as a minister and the holiness of the ministry entrusted to him, deciding to 'live' even materially in his parish church: 'As soon as he arrived, he chose the church as his dwelling... He would enter the church before dawn and only leave it after the evening Angelus. There one had to look for him when one needed him,' reads the first biography'. Consistency, then. Not duplicity. Because God's people need everything except whitewashed sepulchres.

[Pope Francis, St. Martha; Salvatore Mazza in Avvenire 13 January 2018]

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time  B  (18 August 2024)

1. Like last Sunday, also today St Paul, in the second reading, addresses some recommendations to the Ephesians, which we can summarise in four points: "do not live like fools, but be wise"; "make good use of the time because our days are evil"; "do not get drunk with wine that makes you lose control of yourself, but be filled with the Spirit"; "give thanks continually for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ". To live as fools or as wise is the challenge for every human being. The effort of those who want to follow Jesus is to feed on his wisdom, which is presented as a path, a way of conceiving life and behaving not in the manner of this world but according to the vocation of children of light, immersed in divine love. We are going through, St Paul observes, not easy times among people who easily become selfish, enemies of good and lovers of pleasures rather than devoting themselves to seeking the joy of God (cf. 2 Tim 3:1-7). True wisdom consists in accepting God's will every day, filling oneself not with wine that gets drunk, that is, with that which dulls the conscience and weakens the will, but with the Holy Spirit that enables one to live in praise, adoration and thanksgiving. Thanks to the action of the Holy Spirit, all human existence is converted into a true liturgy because it is he who introduces us into the wisdom of Christ, the One who gives life so that the world may have life.

2. St Paul's reference to divine wisdom, and this wisdom is also spoken of in the first reading from the book of Proverbs, prepares us to meditate on today's page of John's gospel, which continues the account of the catechesis on the Eucharist that Jesus gave in the synagogue of Capernaum. Today he resumes with this statement: "The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world (v.51). Jesus is not talking about a cannibal, about anthropophagy; and his listeners are not surprised because they remotely suspect that this is absurd language. In the Jewish world, people were accustomed to using the metaphor of eating and drinking, and they knew that there are hunger and thirsts more urgent and demanding than those of the stomach. There are men who can fill their stomachs at will, but suffer from a lack of love, in the same way the human heart far from God ends up dying of spiritual starvation. Wisdom for the people of Israel is always a choice: between life or death, between good or evil, between joy or mortal sadness, between God or man.  God alone, knowing this, can give man true wisdom that does not disappoint.  In the book of Genesis, the account of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and of Adam and Eve's sin is a metaphor to say that the knowledge of what makes man truly free and happy or enslaved and unhappy is accessible only to God and man alone with his intelligence/will can never construct it (Genesis 2: 8 - 3: 24). Man then has no choice but to listen obediently to God, who wanted to give wisdom as a gift to his people, and Israel is proud to be the repository of divine wisdom before the whole world. Again in the first reading from the book of Proverbs, it is said that divine wisdom has pitched her tent on the holy mountain in Jerusalem and "she has built her house, she has carved her seven pillars. He has killed his cattle, prepared his wine and set his table, and sent his handmaidens to proclaim to the unlearned and the senseless: 'come and eat bread and drink wine that I have prepared for you'. One does not struggle to understand the connection between the gift of Wisdom and the gift of the Eucharist, everything and always in the logic of the gift.

3. The listeners in Capernaum were familiar with these Old Testament texts and were therefore astonished when Jesus spoke of himself as the bread of life and asked themselves: but for whom does this man whom we know so well take himself? They understood that Jesus was presenting himself as the Messiah they were waiting for and this was unacceptable to them. In his discourse, Jesus repeatedly insisted that he was God's Envoy to give life to the world, facing incomprehension, critical murmuring and often decisive rejection from his listeners. A rejection of his identity that Saint John already affirms in the prologue of his gospel, when he writes that the Word "came among his own and his own did not receive him" (John 1:11).  Indeed, few are able to enter gradually into the mystery of God and it is those who humbly listen to Jesus to the end instead of immediately beginning to argue. This is also true for us: only wrapped in divine wisdom that is foolishness for men can we approach the mystery. Jesus of Nazareth, a Jew among Jews, spoke in the language of the time, used the same images and symbols. Those who listened to him could understand him at least for the fact that he was using the same vocabulary and shared the same way of reasoning. Instead, the majority decided not to follow him and this happened at many points in his life.  Since there is no account in the Fourth Gospel, as there is in the Synoptics, of the institution of the Eucharist on Holy Thursday after the Last Supper, this discourse constitutes a first major catechesis on the Eucharistic mystery. When John writes the gospel, the first Christian communities had already been accustomed for several years to feed on the body and blood of Christ every Sunday and were trying to understand this mystery. But more than trying to understand - Jesus says - it is necessary with humility to let oneself be infected by the mystery.  In the heart of the Eucharistic prayer even the celebrant proclaims it: this is the 'Mystery of Faith'. To enter into the mystery of the Eucharist is beyond our capacity, and so it is necessary to allow ourselves to be enlightened and led by God. And Jesus further explains: "As the Father who lives has sent me and I live for the Father, so also he who eats me will live for me". Living his own life: this is God's gift to mankind in the Eucharist. Jesus had proclaimed that his word is nourishment for the world, but here he goes much further, he speaks of flesh to be eaten that becomes food to be assimilated not only for ourselves but for the good of humanity: "The bread that I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world". It refers to his passion and death and resurrection as the entire New Testament makes us realise that the world has found life again thanks to the gift of Christ's glorious cross, that is, victorious over death. Let us not be surprised if we struggle to understand with our intelligence because the only way forward is not to try to understand, but to allow ourselves to be drawn by God. To those who murmured among themselves when Jesus had said that he was the bread that came down from heaven, Jesus had replied: "It is written in the prophets: And all shall be taught of God. So everything is difficult for man if God himself does not come to instruct us. When we listen to the teachings of the Father we meet Jesus because 'no one comes to me', he insists, 'unless my Father draws him'. In the Eucharist we are drawn: it is the Most Holy Trinity who divinely draws us to himself. Yes, in the Eucharistic celebration, we enter into the mystery of the Most Holy Trinity. Before, during and after we remain in adoration, allowing ourselves to be instructed and transformed by God Most Holy Trinity and Infinite Mercy. This is the example of the saints, who draw from immersion in the mystery of the Holy Trinity the strength to love all in truth. And this is a gift offered to all. During his short life, Charles Acutis, a teenager already blessed and soon to be proclaimed a saint lived on the Eucharist. He said: "The Eucharist is my highway to Paradise", and "if we stand before the sun, we become brown, but when we stand before Jesus in the Eucharist, we become holy".

+Giovanni D'Ercole