Dear Brothers and Sisters,

On this day, marked by the austere symbol of ashes, we enter the Season of Lent, beginning a spiritual journey that prepares us for celebrating worthily the Easter Mysteries. The blessed ashes imposed upon our forehead are a sign that reminds us of our condition as creatures, that invites us to repent, and to intensify our commitment to convert, to follow the Lord ever more closely.

Lent is a journey, it means accompanying Jesus who goes up to Jerusalem, the place of the fulfilment of his mystery of Passion, death and Resurrection; it reminds us that Christian life is a “way” to take, not so much consistent with a law to observe as with the very Person of Christ, to encounter, to welcome, to follow.

Indeed, Jesus says to us: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). In other words he tells us that in order to attain, with him, the light and joy of the Resurrection, the victory of life, of love and of goodness, we too must take up our daily cross, as a beautiful passage from the Imitation of Christ urges us: “Take up your cross, therefore, and follow Jesus, and you shall enter eternal life. He himself opened the way before you in carrying his Cross (Jn 19:17), and upon it he died for you, that you too, might take up your cross and long to die upon it. If you die with him, you shall also live with him, and if you share his suffering, you shall also share his glory” (Book 2, chapter 12, n. 2).

In Holy Mass of the First Sunday of Lent we shall pray: “Father, through our observance of Lent, sign of the sacrament of our conversion, help us to understand the meaning of your Son’s death and Resurrection, and teach us to reflect it in our lives” (Opening Prayer).

This is an invocation that we address to God because we know that he alone can convert our hearts. And it is above all in the Liturgy, by participating in the holy mysteries, that we are led to make this journey with the Lord; it means learning at the school of Jesus, reviewing the events that brought salvation to us but not as a mere commemoration, a remembrance of past events. In the liturgical actions Christ makes himself present through the power of the Holy Spirit and these saving events become real.

There is a keyword that recurs frequently in the Liturgy to indicate this: the word “today”; and it should be understood in its original and practical, rather than metaphorical, sense. Today God reveals his law and we are granted to choose today between good and evil, between life and death (cf. Dt 30:19). Today “the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the Gospel” (Mk 1:15). Today Christ died on Calvary and rose from the dead; he ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father; today the Holy Spirit is given to us; today is a favourable time.

Taking part in the Liturgy thus means immersing our life in the mystery of Christ, in his enduring presence so as to follow a path on which we enter his death and Resurrection in order to have life. The Sundays of Lent, in this liturgical year of Cycle A in a quite particular way, introduce us to the experience of a baptismal journey, almost as if we were retracing the path of the catechumens, of those who are preparing to receive Baptism, in order to rekindle this gift within us and to ensure that our life may recover a sense of the demands and commitments of this sacrament which is at the root of our Christian life.

In the Message for this Lent I wished to recall the particular connection that binds Baptism to the Season of Lent. The Church has always associated the Easter Vigil with the celebration of Baptism, step by step. In it is brought about that great mystery through which man, dead to sin, is enabled to share in new life in the Risen Christ and receives the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead (cf. Rom 8:11).

The Readings we shall listen to on the coming Sundays and to which I ask you to pay special attention are taken up precisely by the ancient tradition which accompanied catechumens in the discovery of Baptism. These Readings are the great proclamation of what God brings about in this sacrament, a wonderful baptismal catechesis addressed to each one of us.

The First Sunday of Lent, known as the “Sunday of the Temptation” because it presents Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness, invites us to renew our definitive adherence to God and, in order to remain faithful to him, to face courageously the struggle that awaits us.

Over and over again we need determination, resistance to evil, we need to follow Jesus. On this Sunday, after hearing the testimony of the godparents and catechists, the Church celebrates the election of those who are admitted to the Easter sacraments.

The Second Sunday is called “of Abraham and of the Transfiguration”. Baptism is the sacrament of faith and of divine sonship; like Abraham, Father of believers, we too are asked to set out, to depart from our land, to give up the security we have created for ourselves in order to place our trust in God; the destination is glimpsed in the Transfiguration of Christ, the beloved Son, in whom we too become “sons of God”.

On the following Sundays, Baptism is presented in images of water, light and life. The Third Sunday makes us meet the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4:5-42). Like Israel in the Exodus, in Baptism we too have received the water that saves; Jesus, as the Samaritan woman says, has living water that quenches all thirst; and this water is the Spirit himself. On this Sunday the Church celebrates the First Scrutiny of the catechumens and during the week presents to them the Creed: the profession of faith.

The Fourth Sunday makes us reflect on the experience of the “man blind from birth” (cf. Jn 9:1-41). In Baptism, we are set free from the shadow of evil and receive Christ’s light in order to live as children of light. We too must learn to see in Christ’s Face God’s presence, hence light. The Second Scrutiny on the catechumen’s journey is celebrated.

Lastly, the Fifth Sunday presents to us the raising of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45). In Baptism we passed from death to life and were enabled to please God, to make the former person die so as to live by the Spirit of the Risen One. The Third Scrutiny for the catechumens is celebrated and during the week the Lord’s Prayer is presented to them.

In the Church’s tradition, this journey we are asked to take in Lent is marked by certain practices: fasting, almsgiving and prayer. Fasting means abstinence from food but includes other forms of privation for a more modest life. However, all this is not yet the full reality of fasting: it is an outer sign of an inner reality, of our commitment, with God’s help, to abstain from evil and to live by the Gospel. Those who are unable to nourish themselves with the word of God do not fast properly.

In the Christian tradition fasting is closely linked to almsgiving. St Leo the Great taught in one of his Discourses on Lent: “All that each Christian is bound to do in every season he must now do with greater solicitude and devotion in order to fulfil the apostolic prescription of Lenten fasting consistently, not only in abstinence from food but also and above all from sin. Furthermore, with this holy fasting which is only right, no work may be more fruitfully associated than almsgiving which, under the one name of ‘mercy’, embraces many good works. The field of works of mercy is immense. It is not only the rich and the well-off who can benefit others with almsgiving, but also those of modest means and even the poor. Thus, although their futures differ, all may be the same in the soul’s sentiments of piety” (Sermon VI on Lent, 2: PL 54, 286).

St Gregory the Great recalled in his Pastoral Rule that fasting is sanctified by the virtues that go with it, especially by charity, by every act of generosity, giving to the poor and needy the equivalent of something we ourselves have given up (cf. 19, 10-11). Lent, moreover, is a privileged period for prayer. St Augustine said that fasting and almsgiving are “the two wings of prayer” which enable it to gain momentum and more easily reach even to God.

He said: “In this way our prayers, made in humility and charity, in fasting and almsgiving, in temperance and in the forgiveness of offences, giving good things and not returning those that are bad, keeping away from evil and doing good, seek peace and achieve it. On the wings of these virtues our prayers fly safely and are more easily carried to Heaven, where Christ our Peace has preceded us” (Sermon 206, 3 on Lent: PL 38, 1042).

The Church knows that because of our weakness it is difficult to create silence in order to come before God and to acquire an awareness of our condition as creatures who depend on him, as sinners in need of his love. It is for this reason that in Lent she asks us to pray more faithfully, more intensely, and to prolong our meditation on the word of God.

St John Chrysostom urged: “Embellish your house with modesty and humility with the practice of prayer. Make your dwelling place shine with the light of justice; adorn its walls with good works, like a lustre of pure gold, and replace walls and precious stones with faith and supernatural magnanimity, putting prayer above all other things, high up in the gables, to give the whole complex decorum.

“You will thus prepare a worthy dwelling place for the Lord, you will welcome him in a splendid palace. He will grant you to transform your soul into a temple of his presence” (Homily 6 on Prayer: PG 64, 466).

Dear friends, on this Lenten journey let us be careful to accept Christ’s invitation to follow him more decisively and consistently, renewing the grace and commitments of our Baptism, to cast off the former person within us and put on Christ, in order to arrive at Easter renewed and able to say, with St Paul: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20). I wish you all a good Lenten journey! Thank you!

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 9 March 2011]

"Sound the horn, proclaim a solemn fast" (Gl 2:15), says the prophet in the First Reading. Lent opens with a shrill sound, that of a horn that does not caress the ears, but proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound, meant to slow down our lives that are always running, but often do not know where. It is a call to stop - a "stop!" -, to go to the essentials, to fast from the superfluous that distracts. It is an alarm clock for the soul.

The sound of this wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord delivers through the mouth of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: 'Return to me' (v. 12). Return. If we must return, it means we have gone elsewhere. Lent is the time to retrace the course of life. Because in the journey of life, as in any journey, what really counts is not to lose sight of the destination. When on the journey what matters is looking at the landscape or stopping to eat, we do not go far. Each of us can ask ourselves: on life's journey, do I seek the course? Or am I content to live by the day, thinking only of getting well, solving a few problems and having a little fun? What is the course? Perhaps the pursuit of health, which so many today say comes first but which will pass sooner or later? Perhaps possessions and wealth? But we are not in the world for that. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the destination of our journey in the world. The course must be set on Him.

To find our course, today we are offered a sign: ashes on our heads. It is a sign that makes us think about what is in our heads. Our thoughts often chase after passing things, which come and go. The light layer of ash that we receive is to tell us, gently and truthfully: of the many things that you have on your mind, behind which you run and toil every day, nothing will remain. However much you toil, from life you will take no wealth with you. Earthly realities vanish, like dust in the wind. Goods are temporary, power passes, success fades. The culture of appearance, dominant today, which induces one to live for the things that pass, is a great deception. For it is like a blaze: once it is over, only ashes remain. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of living chasing the dust. Lent is to rediscover that we are made for the fire that always burns, not for the ashes that immediately go out; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of Heaven, not for the deception of the earth; for the freedom of children, not for the slavery of things. We can ask ourselves today: which side am I on? Do I live by fire or by ashes?

In this journey back to the essentials that is Lent, the Gospel proposes three stages, which the Lord asks us to go through without hypocrisy, without pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the only three realities that do not vanish. Prayer takes us back to God; charity to our neighbour; fasting to ourselves. God, brothers, my life: these are the realities that do not end in nothingness, in which we must invest. This is where Lent invites us to look: upwards, with prayer, which frees one from a horizontal, flat life, where one finds time for the self but forgets God. And then towards the Other, with charity, which frees from the vanity of having, from thinking that things are good if they are good for me. Finally, he invites us to look inside ourselves, with fasting, which frees us from attachments to things, from worldliness that anaesthetises the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that lasts.

Jesus said: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass in search of orientation. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be served become things to be served. Outward appearance, money, career, pastimes: if we live for them, they will become idols that use us, sirens that enchant us and then cast us adrift. Instead, if the heart attaches itself to what does not pass, we find ourselves and become free. Lent is a time of grace to free the heart from vanities. It is a time of healing from the addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what remains.

Where then to fix our gaze along the path of Lent? It is simple: on the Crucified One. Jesus on the cross is the compass of life, directing us to Heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his stripping away out of love show us the need for a simpler life, free from too much preoccupation with things. Jesus from the cross teaches us the strong courage of renunciation. Because laden with cumbersome burdens, we will never move forward. We need to free ourselves from the tentacles of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being content, from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus, who on the wood of the cross burns with love, calls us to a life on fire with Him, one that is not lost in the ashes of the world; a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as He asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads to the goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with ashes, but in the end it leads us to the fire of Easter night; to discover that, in the tomb, the flesh of Jesus does not become ashes, but rises again in glory. It also applies to us, who are dust: if with our frailties we return to the Lord, if we take the way of love, we will embrace the life that does not fade. And we shall certainly be in joy.

[Pope John Paul II, St Sabina Lenten “station” 8 March 2000]

“Blow the trumpet […] sanctify a fast” (Joel 2:15), says the prophet in the first reading. Lent opens with a piercing sound, that of a trumpet that does not please the ears, but instead proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound that seeks to slow down our life, which is so fast-paced, yet often directionless. It is a summons to stop – a “halt!” –, to focus on what is essential, to fast from the unnecessary things that distract us. It is a wake-up call for the soul.

This wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord proclaims through the lips of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: “Return to me” (v 12). To return. If we have to return, it means that we have wandered off. Lent is the time to rediscover the direction of life. Because in life’s journey, as in every journey, what really matters is not to lose sight of the goal. If what interests us as we travel, however, is looking at the scenery or stopping to eat, we will not get far. We should ask ourselves: On the journey of life, do I seek the way forward? Or am I satisfied with living in the moment and thinking only of feeling good, solving some problems and having fun? What is the path? Is it the search for health, which many today say comes first but which eventually passes? Could it be possessions and wellbeing? But we are not in the world for this. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the goal of our journey in this world. The direction must lead to him.

Today we have been offered a sign that will help us find our direction: the head marked by ash. It is a sign that causes us to consider what occupies our mind. Our thoughts often focus on transient things, which come and go. The small mark of ash, which we will receive, is a subtle yet real reminder that of the many things occupying our thoughts, that we chase after and worry about every day, nothing will remain. No matter how hard we work, we will take no wealth with us from this life. Earthly realities fade away like dust in the wind. Possessions are temporary, power passes, success wanes. The culture of appearance prevalent today, which persuades us to live for passing things, is a great deception. It is like a blaze: once ended, only ash remains. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of chasing after dust. Lent is for rediscovering that we are created for the inextinguishable flame, not for ashes that immediately disappear; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of heaven, not for earthly deceit; for the freedom of the children of God, not for slavery to things. We should ask ourselves today: Where do I stand? Do I live for fire or for ash?

On this Lenten journey, back to what is essential, the Gospel proposes three steps which the Lord invites us to undertake without hypocrisy and pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the three realities that do not fade away. Prayer reunites us to God; charity, to our neighbour; fasting, to ourselves. God, my neighbour, my life: these are the realities that do not fade away and in which we must invest. Lent, therefore, invites us to focus, first of all on the Almighty, in prayer, which frees us from that horizontal and mundane life where we find time for self but forget God. It then invites us to focus on others, with the charity that frees us from the vanity of acquiring and of thinking that things are only good if they are good for me. Finally, Lent invites us to look inside our heart, with fasting, which frees us from attachment to things and from the worldliness that numbs the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that endures.

Jesus said: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass seeking its bearings. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be used become things we serve. Outward appearance, money, a career or hobby: if we live for them, they will become idols that enslave us, sirens that charm us and then cast us adrift. Whereas if our heart is attached to what does not pass away, we rediscover ourselves and are set free. Lent is the time of grace that liberates the heart from vanity. It is a time of healing from addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what abides.

Where can we fix our gaze, then, throughout this Lenten journey? It is simple: upon the Crucified one. Jesus on the cross is life’s compass, which directs us to heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his loving self-emptying show us the necessity of a simpler life, free from anxiety about things. From the cross, Jesus teaches us the great courage involved in renunciation. We will never move forward if we are heavily weighed down. We need to free ourselves from the clutches of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being satisfied, and from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus on the wood of the cross burns with love, and calls us to a life that is passionate for him, which is not lost amid the ashes of the world; to a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as he asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads us to our goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with the ashes, but eventually leads us to the fire of Easter night; to the discovery that, in the tomb, the body of Jesus does not turn to ashes, but rises gloriously. This is true also for us, who are dust. If we, with our weaknesses, return to the Lord, if we take the path of love, then we will embrace the life that never ends. And surely we will be full of joy.

[Pope Francis, homily 6 March 2019]

(Mk 10:28-31)

According to the correct mentality - typical of Judaism - to receive the divine inheritance it was enough to keep the commandments (vv.17-20).

But it is not with security upstream that one can make an exodus to meet the One (v.21) in the heart; nor can the Church stay safe with the material contribution of the rich (v.26).

The path of love and educational risk assume the journey of adventurous sobriety, without which it is not possible to affect the watertight compartments of thought and society.

In contrast to devotions, the life of Faith does not require the offering to God of a modest or resigned sacrifice, but abandonment to future that is to Come.

In this way - by making the disciples abide in the energy of undertaking - the believing experience will no longer leave anyone with their heads bowed. For here the cards are exchanged (v.31).

The Presence of the fraternal and concrete Kingdom - «in the midst» - overturns roles and perspectives, such as habitual positions between women and men, young and old, or new and veterans (v.31).

Inserted in the Church that hears the call to "go out", we stir our Core from the tortuousness of self-folding.

And here is the Father's Hundredfold in all (vv.28-30). Except for one thing: because we are called to be on the same level.

There will be no “hundred for one” of «fathers» [in the ancient sense] that is, of conditioning controllers (vv.29-30) who dictate their track and pace, as if to subordinates.

A life of obligations or attachments blocks creativity. To cling to an idol, to allow oneself to be plagued or intimidated, to anchor oneself in fear of problems or worries, is to create a dark chamber.

To feel programmable, already designed without an extra... to be subjected to ordinary or conformist opinions... excludes the vector of the unknown and all-personal Novelty.

He who allows himself to be inhibited by exclusive ethics, by having to be with himself and others according to clichés of established prestige and so on, builds an artificial dwelling, which is neither his ‘home’ nor the ‘tent of the world’.

And although in the step of the mission, even speculating that we can foresee fruitful eccentricities or global adventures, we shrivel our souls, we are frightened of possible conflicts.

But in fear we do not grasp what is truly ‘ours and others': what is only revealed during a process, which becomes holy in the exodus from self and in the quality of creative relationships.

After all, behind the reluctance ‘to be’ in Christ and in relationships that go beyond what is due and already thought, lies nothing more than the fear of losing the attention of others or one's reputation.

But along the Way, one has an intimate experience of a different Switch within, which helps us express ourselves and deal with events where not everything is already 'in place'.

Thus, by laying aside step by step the fears of being shouted at, and that life might collapse [precisely because of our ideal choices].

Away with the behind-the-scenes.

It is the new Genesis under a new and unknown stimulus that allows attention to be shifted from calculation to the brightness of the heart, from the brain to the eye, from reasoning to perception.

Once the artificial ties of wanting to come to head of situations [prematurely and necessarily] are removed, we will learn to embrace all sides, and life will go its own way, expanding from wave to wave.

We are no longer minors: we have full Hope - not moderate.

[Tuesday 8th wk. in O.T.  March 4, 2025]

(Mk 10:28-31)

According to correct mentality - typical in Judaism - to receive the divine inheritance it was enough to keep the commandments (vv.17-20).

Jesus' proposal does not focus on the exchange of "favours" (Pharisaic automatism): it has breath, and rests on gratuitousness; it helps freedom - it is broader, without ballast.

Therefore, lean towards ecclesial poverty. Both the affluent and the apostles' conviction must be freed from the idol of opulence - an even more swampy force than guilt.

The Gospel passage itself is a sign that the "internal" mentality of the communities had to be straightened out, even back then.

It is not with security upstream that one can exodus - to meet the One (v.21) in the heart. Nor can the Church stay safe with the material contribution of the rich (v.26).

The path of love and the educational risk presuppose the path of adventurous sobriety, without which it is not possible to impact the watertight compartments of thought and society.

In contrast to devotions, the life of Faith does not require the offering of a modest or resigned sacrifice to God, but abandonment to the coming future.

Even as a matter of crude substance, it will force us to shift our gaze - and reactivate it incessantly.

Thus making the disciples abide in the energy of undertaking will finally leave no one with bowed heads. For here the cards are exchanged (v.31).

He does not want to rob us of anything: his friendly Presence is a consistent ferment, which wants to realise the absolute in each of us.

Detachment from things to expand and rejoice in the quality of the journey is the seed of a new sacredness, of another face of humanity and the world.

The concrete existence that flows from the proposal of Faith surpasses every religious model. He even extends the community, creating Family without boundaries - all brothers and sisters, no leaders for life.

We are no longer minors: we have full Hope - not moderate.

Only the sharing of goods will stand: fruit of providence and systematic gift - and there will be no needy, rather it will advance for others (an ideal already of Deut 15 - with no more cultural fences).

And no calculations of reciprocation: because there is no starting point for selfishness or for the profit of clubs with nice manners (and greedy possession).

Of course, Christ will be the choice of the poor, who have always dreamed of a reversal of the pyramid (v.31).

At the time of Jesus, people's lives were in fact marked - trait by trait - by dual subjugation: Herod's politics and religious slavery.

The system of exploitation and repression was widespread and well organised.

Even the religious authorities had cunningly found a remunerative modus vivendi well established in the ganglia of the empire.

All this at the cost of the disintegration of community and family life (facets of the ancient clan communion, now harassed by problems of material survival and increased individualism).

In a context of social collapse, many were forced to get by in a discarded and excluded condition.

But in the assemblies of Jesus, the attitude of inclusion towards the marginalised, weak and shaky characterised them and made them stand out (gradually preferred) against all other groups.

At that time, there was no lack of various sects - even well-motivated ones - that wished to show an alternative model of life to the ruthlessness of the current reality.

However, e.g. the Essenes were legalists and purists, and lived apart; so did the Pharisees - observant people bound even to oral tradition - who abhorred 'defiled' people.

The Zealots also resented the weak and indecisive, voiceless crowd.

Those considered ignorant and cursed (for not being able to fulfil the prescriptions of the law) and valued in sin, were conversely welcome in Christian communities.

Precisely the weightless - endowed with little energy and relationships - forcibly excluded from the clan because of economic necessity, found there at last refuge, warmth, listening, understanding, help.

The Master himself had explicitly ordered anti-ambition and personal dispossession in favour of the sick and weak; of all those who were left behind.

Simplicity in life went hand in hand with sobriety in mission.

In fact, the Lord advised the envoys to witness radical confidence in hospitality (offered by so many new 'family members').

Sense of adaptation and measure, ability to live in the essentials and be content, were the indispensable character of evangelisation.

True witnesses of Christ, even today and as time passes, feel content in the temporary - typical of pilgrims. They did not covet better future accommodations, passing from house to house (Mk 6:10).

In all this, and in being able to adapt to the situations and normal rewards of local work, believers demonstrate the Presence of the fraternal Kingdom.It is a concrete reality and "in between": in fact, it makes itself equidistant; it overturns roles - and optics, such as habitual positions between women and men, young and old, or new and old (v.31).

Of course, change can be frightening, but inserted in the fraternity that hears the call to "go out", we take the leash off situations and stir souls from the tortuousness of retreats.

And here is the Father's hundredfold in everything (vv.28-30). Except for one thing: because we are called to be on an equal footing.

There will be no hundred to one of "fathers" (in the ancient sense), i.e., of conditioning controllers (vv.29-30) who dictate their track and pace, as to subordinates.

Then we sit in our Centre, not because we are identified in the standard habitual role, but chiselled in an amazing way by the facets of the Mystery it touches, starting from within.

And turn everything upside down.

A life of attachments blocks creativity. To cling to an idol, to allow oneself to be plagued or intimidated, to anchor oneself in fear of problems or worries is like creating a dark room.

Feeling programmable, already designed without a more... subjugating ordinary or conformist views... excludes the vector of the unknown and all-personal Novelty.

Those who allow themselves to be inhibited by exclusive ethics, by having to be with themselves and others according to clichés of established prestige and so on, build an artificial dwelling, which is neither their home nor the tent of the world.

And while in the pass of the mission, even conjuring up fruitful eccentricities or global adventures, we shrink back, afraid of possible conflicts.

But in fear we do not grasp what is truly ours and others': what is only revealed during a process, which becomes holy in the exodus from self and in the quality of creative relationships.

As Pope Francis said in Dublin: "Docile to the Spirit and not based on tactical plans" that block life.

After all, behind the reluctance to be in Christ and in relationships that go beyond what is due and already thought, lies nothing more than the fear of losing the attention of others or reputation.

But for Via, it is an intimate experience of a different 'switch' inside, which helps us express ourselves and face events where not everything is already in place. 

We lay step by step the fears of being scolded, and that life (precisely because of our ideal choices) might collapse.

Away with the behind-the-scenes.

It is the new genesis under a new and unknown stimulus that allows us to shift attention from calculation to the brightness of the soul, from the brain to the eye, from reasoning to perception.

Once we have removed the artificial ties of wanting to come to the head of situations prematurely and by force, we learn to welcome all sides, and life will go its own way, expanding from wave to wave.

At this point, my mind goes back to 22 October 1978, when Pope John Paul II began his ministry here in Saint Peter’s Square. His words on that occasion constantly echo in my ears: “Do not be afraid! Open wide the doors for Christ!” The Pope was addressing the mighty, the powerful of this world, who feared that Christ might take away something of their power if they were to let him in, if they were to allow the faith to be free. Yes, he would certainly have taken something away from them: the dominion of corruption, the manipulation of law and the freedom to do as they pleased. But he would not have taken away anything that pertains to human freedom or dignity, or to the building of a just society. The Pope was also speaking to everyone, especially the young. Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? And once again the Pope said: No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily for the beginning of the ministry, 24 April 2005]

1. In the Gospels, when Jesus called his first Apostles to make them "fishers of men" (Mt 4:19; Mk 1:17; cf. Lk 5:10), they "left everything and followed him" (Lk 5:11; cf. Mt 4:20, 22; Mk 1:18, 20). One day it was Peter himself who reminded us of this aspect of the apostolic vocation, saying to Jesus: "Behold, we have left everything and followed you" (Mt 19, 27; Mk 10, 28; cf. Lk 18, 28).Jesus then listed all the necessary detachments "for my sake," he said, "and for the sake of the gospel" (Mk 10, 29). It was not only a matter of giving up material goods, such as the "house" or the "fields", but also of parting with the dearest people: "brothers or sisters or father or mother or children", - so says Matthew and Mark - "wife or brothers or parents or children", - so says Luke (18, 29).

Let us observe here the diversity of vocations. Not from all his disciples did Jesus demand radical renunciation of family life, although from all of them he demanded the first place in his heart when he said: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me" (Mt 10:37). The need for effective renunciation is proper to the apostolic life or the life of special consecration. Called by Jesus, "James of Zebedee and John his brother" did not only leave the boat in which they were "rearranging the nets", but also their father, with whom they were (Mt 4:22; cf. Mk 1:20).

These findings help us to understand the reason for the Church's legislation on priestly celibacy. In fact, the Church has considered and continues to consider it as part of the logic of priestly consecration and the consequent total belonging to Christ in view of the conscious implementation of His mandate of spiritual life and evangelisation.

2. In fact, in the Gospel according to Matthew, a little before the passage on separation from loved ones, which we have just quoted, Jesus expresses in strong Semitic language another renunciation required "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven", the renunciation, that is, of marriage. "There are," he says, "eunuchs who have made themselves such because of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:12). That is, they are committed to celibacy in order to put themselves entirely at the service of the "Gospel of the Kingdom" (cf. Mt 4:23; 9:35; 24:34).

In his First Letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul affirms that he has resolutely taken this path and demonstrates the consistency of his decision by declaring: 'He who is unmarried worries about the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord. He who is married, on the other hand, worries about the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and is divided!" (1 Cor 7:32-34). Certainly, it is not fitting that one who has been called to occupy himself, as a Priest, with the things of the Lord should "be divided". As the Council says, the commitment to celibacy, stemming from a tradition that is linked to Christ, is "particularly suited to the priestly life. For it is both a sign and a stimulus of pastoral charity, and a source of spiritual fruitfulness in the world' (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 16).

It is very true that in the Eastern Churches, many presbyters are legitimately married according to canon law concerning them. Even in those Churches, however, Bishops live in celibacy, and so do a certain number of Priests. The difference in discipline, linked to conditions of time and place assessed by the Church, is explained by the fact that perfect continence, as the Council says, "is not required by the very nature of the priesthood" (Ibid). It does not belong to the essence of the priesthood as an Order, and therefore is not imposed absolutely in all Churches. There are, however, no doubts about its appropriateness and indeed congruence with the requirements of Holy Orders. It is, as we have said, part of the logic of consecration.

3. The concrete ideal of this condition of consecrated life is Jesus, model for all, but especially for priests. He lived as a celibate, and was therefore able to devote all his strength to preaching the Kingdom of God and serving mankind, with a heart open to the whole of humanity, as the progenitor of a new spiritual generation. His choice was truly "for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven" (cf. Mt 19:12).

By his example, Jesus indicated a direction, which was followed. According to the Gospels, it seems that the Twelve, destined to be the first sharers in his priesthood, renounced family life in order to follow him. The Gospels never speak of wives or children with regard to the Twelve, although they do let us know that Peter, before being called by Jesus was a married man (cf. Mt 8:14; Mk 1:30; Lk 4:38).

4. Jesus did not promulgate a law, but proposed an ideal of celibacy, for the new priesthood he instituted. This ideal became more and more established in the Church. One can understand that in the first phase of the propagation and development of Christianity a large number of priests were married men, chosen and ordained along the lines of the Jewish tradition. We know that in the Epistles to Timothy (1 Tim 3:2-33) and Titus (Titus 1:6) it is required that, among the qualities of the men chosen as presbyters, there be that of being good fathers of families, married to one woman (i.e. faithful to their wives). It is a phase of the Church in the process of organising and, one might say, experimenting with what, as a discipline of states of life, best corresponds to the ideal and the 'counsels' proposed by the Lord. On the basis of experience and reflection, the discipline of celibacy gradually established itself until it became generalised in the Western Church by virtue of canonical legislation. It was not only the consequence of a juridical and disciplinary fact: it was the maturation of an ecclesial conscience on the appropriateness of priestly celibacy for reasons that were not only historical and practical, but also derived from the ever better discovered congruence between celibacy and the demands of the priesthood.

5. The Second Vatican Council sets out the reasons for such 'intimate suitability' of celibacy with the priesthood: "By virginity or celibacy observed for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven, presbyters consecrate themselves to Christ with a new and lofty title, adhere more readily to Him with an undivided love, devote themselves more freely in Him and for Him to the service of God and men, serve His Kingdom and His work of divine regeneration more effectively, and in this way are better disposed to receive a wider paternity in Christ." They 'thus evoke that mysterious marriage instituted by God, and which will be fully manifested in the future, for which the Church has Christ as her only Bridegroom ... they become a living sign of that future world, already present through faith and charity, in which the children of the resurrection are not united in marriage' (PO 16; cf. Pastores dabo vobis, 29; 50; CCC 1579).

These are reasons of noble spiritual elevation, which we can summarise in the following essentials: fuller adherence to Christ, loved and served with an undivided heart (cf. 1 Cor 7:32-33); broader availability to the service of the Kingdom of Christ and the fulfilment of one's duties in the Church; the more exclusive choice of a spiritual fruitfulness (cf. 1 Cor 4:15); the practice of a life similar to the definitive life in the beyond, and therefore more exemplary for the life hereafter. This is valid for all times, including our own, as the supreme reason and criterion for every judgement and choice in harmony with the invitation to 'leave everything', addressed by Jesus to the disciples and especially to the Apostles. This is why the 1971 Synod of Bishops confirmed: 'The law of priestly celibacy, in force in the Latin Church, must be fully preserved' (Ench. Vat., IV, 1219).

6. It is true that today the practice of celibacy finds obstacles, sometimes even serious ones, in the subjective and objective conditions in which priests find themselves. The Synod of Bishops considered them, but considered that even today's difficulties are surmountable, if "the appropriate conditions are promoted, namely: the increase of the interior life with the help of prayer, self-denial, ardent charity towards God and neighbour, and with the other aids of the spiritual life; human equilibrium through an orderly insertion into the structure of social relations; fraternal relations and contacts with other priests and with the bishop. by better implementing pastoral structures to this end, and also with the help of the community of the faithful" (Ibid., IV, 1216).

It is a sort of challenge that the Church launches against the mentality, tendencies, and maladies of the century, with an ever new will for consistency and fidelity to the evangelical ideal. For this reason, while admitting that the Supreme Pontiff can evaluate and decide what to do in certain cases, the Synod reaffirmed that in the Latin Church "the priestly ordination of married men is not permitted even in particular cases" (Ibid., IV, 1220). The Church believes that the consciousness of total consecration, which has matured over the centuries, still has reason to subsist and to be increasingly perfected.

The Church is also aware, and reminds presbyters and all the faithful with the Council, that 'the gift of celibacy, so befitting the priesthood of the New Law, is granted in great measure by the Father, on condition that all those who share in the Priesthood of Christ by the sacrament of Orders, indeed the whole Church, ask for it humbly and insistently' (PO 16).But perhaps, even before that, it is necessary to ask for the grace to understand priestly celibacy, which undoubtedly includes a certain mystery: that of the demand for boldness and trust in absolute attachment to the person and redemptive work of Christ, with a radicalism of renunciation that to human eyes can appear shocking. Jesus himself, in suggesting this, warns that not everyone can understand it (cf. Mt 19:10-12). Blessed are those who receive the grace to understand this, and remain faithful on this path!

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 17 July 1993]

Today’s Gospel, taken from Mark, Chapter 10, is divided into three scenes, punctuated by three gazes of Jesus.

The first scene presents the encounter between the Teacher and a fellow who — according to the parallel passage of Matthew — is identified as a “young man”. The encounter of Jesus with a young man. This man runs up to Jesus, kneels and calls him “Good Teacher”. Then he asks: “what must I do to inherit eternal life”, in other words, happiness (v. 17). “Eternal life” is not only the afterlife, but is a full life, fulfilled, without limitations. What must we do to achieve it? Jesus’ answer restates the commandments that refer to loving one’s neighbours. In this regard the young man has nothing to reproach; but clearly, observing the precepts is not enough. It does not satisfy his desire for fulfillment. Jesus perceives this desire that the young man bears in his heart; for this reason his response is expressed in an intense gaze filled with tenderness and love. The Gospel thus says: “[Jesus] looking upon him loved him” (v. 21). He realized he was a good young man.... But Jesus also understood his interlocutor’s weakness, and offers him a practical proposal: to give all his possessions to the poor and follow Him. That young man’s heart, however, was divided between two masters: God and money, and he went away sorrowful. This shows that faith and attachment to riches cannot coexist. Thus, in the end, the young man’s initial enthusiasm is dampened in the unhappiness of a sunken sequela.

In the second scene the Evangelist frames the eyes of Jesus, and this time it is a pensive gaze, one of caution: “[Jesus] looked around and said to his disciples: ‘How hard it will be for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!’” (v. 23). To the astonishment of the disciples, who ask him: “Then who can be saved?” (v. 26), Jesus responds with a encouraging gaze — it is the third gaze — and says: salvation, yes, “with men it is impossible, but not with God!” (v. 27). If we trust in the Lord, we can overcome all obstacles that impede us from following him on the path of faith. Trust in the Lord. He will give us strength, he gives us salvation, he accompanies us on the way.

And thus we arrive at the third scene, that of Jesus’ solemn declaration: Truly, I say to you those who leave all to follow me shall have eternal life in the age to come and a hundredfold now in this time (cf. vv. 29-30). This “hundredfold” is comprised of things first possessed and then left, but which shall be restored and multiplied ad infinitum. In divesting oneself of possessions, one receives in exchange the comfort of true good; freed from the slavery of things, one earns the freedom of serving out of love; in renouncing possessions, one acquires the joy of giving. As Jesus said: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (cf. Acts 20:35).

The young man did not allow himself to be conquered by Jesus’ loving gaze, and thus was not able to change. Only by accepting with humble gratitude the love of the Lord do we free ourselves from the seduction of idols and the blindness of our illusions. Money, pleasure, success dazzle but then disappoint: they promise life but procure death. The Lord asks us to detach ourselves from these false riches in order to enter into true life, the full, authentic, luminous life. I ask you, young people, young men and young women, who are here now in the Square: “Have you felt Jesus’ gaze upon you? Do you prefer to leave this Square with the joy that Jesus gives us or with the sadness of heart that worldliness offers us?”.

May the Virgin Mary help us to open our heart to Jesus’ love, to Jesus’ gaze, the only One who can satiate our thirst for happiness.

[Pope Francis, Angelus of 11 October 2015]

Inherit the Life of the Eternal

(Mk 10:17-27)

To realize ourselves it’s not enough to accentuate or refine, we need to take a Leap; an extra step is not enough.

It starts from the perception of an inner wound that moves us (v.17) in search of that Good that ‘unifies’ and gives meaning to life.

Jesus makes us reflect on what is to be considered Great, «distinguished» [thus the Greek text: vv.17-18].

It is not a magisterium for those who are far away, but for us: «One you are missing!» [v.21] - as if he wanted to underline: «the One, the Whole you miss: you have almost nothing!».

Normal life goes on, but there is no astonishment.

Too many things are missing: the challenge of ‘the most’ personal, the care of others, the confrontation with the drama of reality. There is no Unity; there is a lack of authentic Presence that launches love into the spirit of adventure..

It is not a question of having an idea, an extra cue in addition to what we already have, while continuing to be slaves to it.

It’s not enough to improve relationship situations that we know by heart, being approved from the first step.

The transition from religiosity to Faith that brings our vocational destiny and full realization is played out on a shortage of supports - in chaotic systems of correlation.

To be happy is not worth "normalizing", because the soul demands the challenge of unexplored skies.

Waters that we have not probed: sides of ourselves, of others and of reality that we have not brought out, and yet perhaps we are not even scrutinizing.

It is necessary to venture into the basal and extraordinary stretches that today also call in the day after day; do not wait for insurance.

And the starting point can also be the accent of doubt, a healthy restlessness of the soul - the very danger... typical of critical witnesses.

Let’s not silence our being insecure, nor the sense of dissatisfaction for a life without jolts: they are fruitful suspensions, which will activate us.

Feeling complete, fulfilled, happy? One needs one's eyes and heart to yield, not to be occupied.

It is absolutely necessary to let certainties fall from the mind and from one's hand.

The gamble is the reckless investing of everything for 'another realm' - where energies surface, different relationships are explored; one attempts to sublimate possessions into a matrix of life [also others: v.21].

Our Core remains restless if it does not infuse correspondences that fly over the ancient ruler: the material goods, which make one stagnate.

The Deep Roots want to modify the vector of the swampy, situated ego - "as it should", well inserted or self-referential - so that it dilates to encompass the Thou and the real whole (vv.28-30).

It’s the Birth of the new woman and man; mothers and fathers of humanization.

What touches the divine condition. Able even to reverse positions (v.31).

It is Genesis in the authenticity of cosmic energies and inner powers, which are preparing stages of growth - elsewhere.

Gradually the feeling and reciprocity of a comprehensive relationship is created, the purpose of Love in what we undertake or redo; like the friendly warmth of a non-frigid Presence.

We live the extreme from which there is no turning back, because it places us in the very Life of the Eternal (v.17). The One who is missing (v.21).

As I strive to question myself or others, previously hidden resources that I did not even know about emerge.

With amazement I experience a reality that is gradually unfolding... as well as the Father who provides for me (v.27).

In this extension, we learn to recognize the [decisive new] Subject of the spiritual path: God's plan in Being itself.

Dream leading... and despite the travails, the emotional storms, our twists and turns, it gradually reveals itself to be Resembling.

As innate: forthright, genuine, limpid; irrefutable, glowing, flowing.

[Monday 8th wk. in O.T.  March 3rd, 2025]