39. To suffer with the other and for others; to suffer for the sake of truth and justice; to suffer out of love and in order to become a person who truly loves—these are fundamental elements of humanity, and to abandon them would destroy man himself. Yet once again the question arises: are we capable of this? Is the other important enough to warrant my becoming, on his account, a person who suffers? Does truth matter to me enough to make suffering worthwhile? Is the promise of love so great that it justifies the gift of myself? In the history of humanity, it was the Christian faith that had the particular merit of bringing forth within man a new and deeper capacity for these kinds of suffering that are decisive for his humanity. The Christian faith has shown us that truth, justice and love are not simply ideals, but enormously weighty realities. It has shown us that God —Truth and Love in person—desired to suffer for us and with us. Bernard of Clairvaux coined the marvellous expression: Impassibilis est Deus, sed non incompassibilis[29]—God cannot suffer, but he can suffer with. Man is worth so much to God that he himself became man in order to suffer with man in an utterly real way—in flesh and blood—as is revealed to us in the account of Jesus's Passion. Hence in all human suffering we are joined by one who experiences and carries that suffering with us; hence con-solatio is present in all suffering, the consolation of God's compassionate love—and so the star of hope rises. Certainly, in our many different sufferings and trials we always need the lesser and greater hopes too—a kind visit, the healing of internal and external wounds, a favourable resolution of a crisis, and so on. In our lesser trials these kinds of hope may even be sufficient. But in truly great trials, where I must make a definitive decision to place the truth before my own welfare, career and possessions, I need the certitude of that true, great hope of which we have spoken here. For this too we need witnesses—martyrs—who have given themselves totally, so as to show us the way—day after day. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day—knowing that this is how we live life to the full. Let us say it once again: the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity. Yet this capacity to suffer depends on the type and extent of the hope that we bear within us and build upon. The saints were able to make the great journey of human existence in the way that Christ had done before them, because they were brimming with great hope. 

40. I would like to add here another brief comment with some relevance for everyday living. There used to be a form of devotion—perhaps less practised today but quite widespread not long ago—that included the idea of “offering up” the minor daily hardships that continually strike at us like irritating “jabs”, thereby giving them a meaning. Of course, there were some exaggerations and perhaps unhealthy applications of this devotion, but we need to ask ourselves whether there may not after all have been something essential and helpful contained within it. What does it mean to offer something up? Those who did so were convinced that they could insert these little annoyances into Christ's great “com-passion” so that they somehow became part of the treasury of compassion so greatly needed by the human race. In this way, even the small inconveniences of daily life could acquire meaning and contribute to the economy of good and of human love. Maybe we should consider whether it might be judicious to revive this practice ourselves.

[Pope Benedict, Spe Salvi]

1. When we speak of the dignity and mission of women according to the doctrine and spirit of the Church, we must look to the Gospel, which is the light by which Christians see, evaluate and judge everything.
In the previous catechesis, we saw how Revelation helps us to understand the identity and destiny of women, using the Virgin Mary as an example, according to what the Gospel says. But in that same divine source we find other signs of Christ's will regarding women. He speaks of them with respect and kindness, showing in his attitude a willingness to welcome women and to call upon them to commit themselves to the establishment of the Kingdom of God in the world.
2. We can recall first of all the numerous cases of women being healed (cf. John Paul II, Mulieris dignitatem, 13). And those in which Jesus shows his heart as Saviour, full of tenderness when he encounters those who suffer, both men and women. "Do not weep!" he says to the widow of Nain (Lk 7:13). And then he restores her son, risen from the dead. This episode gives us some insight into Jesus' intimate feelings towards his mother, Mary, in the dramatic perspective of participating in his Passion and Death. Jesus also speaks tenderly to Jairus' dead daughter: "Little girl, I say to you, get up!" And, after raising her from the dead, he orders "give her something to eat" (Mk 5:41, 43). Again, he shows his sympathy for the bent woman, whom he heals: and in this case, with the allusion to Satan, he also makes us think of the spiritual salvation he brings to that woman (cf. Lk 13:10-17).
3. In other parts of the Gospel we find Jesus' admiration for the faith of certain women expressed. For example, in the case of the woman with the haemorrhage: "Your faith has saved you," he tells her (Mk 5:34). This praise is all the more valuable because the woman had been subject to segregation imposed by ancient law. Jesus also frees the woman from this social oppression. In turn, the Canaanite woman receives recognition from Jesus: "Woman, your faith is great" (Mt 15:28). It is a compliment that has special significance, considering that it was addressed to a foreigner in the world of Israel. We can also recall Jesus' admiration for the widow who offers her gift in the temple treasury (cf. Lk 21:1-4); and his appreciation for the service he receives from Mary of Bethany (cf. Mt 26:6-13; Mk 14:3-9; Jn 12:1-8), whose gesture, he announces, will be made known to the whole world.
4. Even in his parables, Jesus does not hesitate to use similes and examples drawn from the female world, unlike the midrash of the rabbis, where only male figures appear. Jesus refers to both women and men. If we wanted to make a comparison, we could perhaps say that the advantage lies with women. This means, at the very least, that Jesus avoids even the appearance of attributing inferiority to women.
Furthermore, Jesus opens the door to his Kingdom to women as well as to men. By opening it to women, he wants to open it to children. When he says, 'Let the children come to me' (Mark 10:14), he is reacting to the vigilance of the disciples who wanted to prevent women from presenting their children to the Master. It is as if he were agreeing with the women and their love for children!
In his ministry, Jesus is accompanied by many women who follow him and help him and the community of disciples (cf. Lk 8:1-3). This is a novelty compared to Jewish tradition. Jesus, who attracted these women to follow him, shows in this way how he overcame the prejudices prevalent in his environment, as in much of the ancient world, about the inferiority of women. His struggle against injustice and oppression also includes his rejection of discrimination between women and men in his Church (cf. John Paul II, Mulieris dignitatem, 13).
5. We cannot fail to add that the Gospel also shows Jesus' benevolence towards certain sinners, whom he asks to repent, but without railing against them for their mistakes, especially since these involve the co-responsibility of men. Some episodes are truly significant: the woman who goes to the house of the Pharisee Simon (cf. Lk 7:36-50) is not only forgiven her sins, but also praised for her love; the Samaritan woman becomes a messenger of the new faith (cf. Jn 4:7-37); the adulterous woman receives, together with forgiveness, the simple exhortation not to sin again (cf. Jn 8:3-11); (John Paul II, Mulieris dignitatem, 14). Without doubt, Jesus does not accept evil, sin, or anyone who commits it: but how much understanding he shows for human frailty and how much goodness he shows towards those who already suffer from their spiritual misery and, more or less consciously, seek the Saviour in him!
6. Finally, the Gospel says that Jesus expressly calls women to collaborate in his work of salvation. Not only does he allow them to follow him to help him and the community of disciples, but he also asks for other forms of personal commitment. Thus, he asks Martha to commit herself to faith (cf. Jn 11:26-27): and she, responding to the Master's invitation, makes her profession of faith before the resurrection of Lazarus. After the Resurrection, he entrusts to the pious women who had gone to the tomb and to Mary Magdalene the task of transmitting his message to the Apostles (cf. Mt 28:8-10; Jn 20:17-18): "The women were thus the first messengers of Christ's Resurrection to the Apostles themselves" (Cathechismus Catholicae Ecclesiae, 641). These are quite eloquent signs of his desire to involve women in the service of the Kingdom.
7. This behaviour of Jesus has its theological explanation in his intention to unify humanity. As St Paul says, he wanted to reconcile all people through his sacrifice, "in one body" and make them all "one new man" (Eph 2:15-16), so that now "there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3:28). And here is the conclusion of our catechesis: if Jesus Christ has united men and women in the equality of their status as children of God, He commits both to His mission, not by suppressing diversity at all, but by eliminating all unjust inequality and reconciling everyone in the unity of the Church.
8. The history of the early Christian communities tells us how much women helped to spread the Gospel: starting with "Phebe, our sister," as St. Paul calls her, "deaconess of the Church of Cenchreae: . . . she has helped many, including myself" (Rom 16:1-2). I would like to pay tribute to her memory and to that of the many other women who collaborated with the Apostles in Cenchreae, in Rome and in all the Christian communities. With them, we also remember and praise all the other women - religious and lay - who over the centuries have borne witness to the Gospel and transmitted the faith, greatly influencing the growth of a Christian climate in the family and in society.
[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 6 July 1994]

There are five verbs of "closeness" that Jesus lives firsthand and which indicate the criteria of the "final protocol": seeing, calling, speaking, touching, and healing. Not only pastors, who are the first to run the risk of being "hypocrites," but all men will be judged on this. With the warning that fine words and good manners are not enough, because Jesus asks us to touch the flesh of others with our own hands, especially if they are suffering. This is "the way of the good shepherd" that the Pope pointed out in the Mass celebrated on Monday, 30 October, at Santa Marta.
'In this passage from the Gospel,' Francis immediately pointed out, referring to the passage from Luke (13:10-17), 'we find Jesus not on the road as was his custom, but in the synagogue: on the Sabbath, the community goes to the synagogue to pray, to listen to the word of God and also to the sermon; and Jesus was there, listening to the word of God'. But "he also taught, because he had authority, such great moral authority, that they invited him to say a word," precisely to "teach the people." And "in the synagogue there was a woman who was bent over, completely bent over, poor thing, and could not stand up straight: a disease of the spine that had kept her that way for years."
And "what does Jesus do? I am struck," the Pope confided, "by the verbs the evangelist uses to describe what Jesus did: 'he saw' her; 'he called' her; 'he said to her'; 'he laid his hands on her and healed her'." These are "five verbs of closeness."
First of all, the Pontiff explained, "Jesus approached her: the attitude of the good shepherd, closeness." Because "a good shepherd is always close: think of the parable of the good shepherd that Jesus preached," so "close" to the lost sheep that he leaves the others and goes to look for her.
After all, Francis said, "the good shepherd cannot be far from his people, and this is the sign of a good shepherd: closeness. Instead, the others, in this case the head of the synagogue, that small group of clerics, doctors of the law, some Pharisees, Sadducees, the illustrious, lived separated from the people, constantly rebuking them." But, the Pope reiterated, "these were not good shepherds; they were closed off in their own group and did not care about the people. Perhaps they cared, when the religious service was over, about going to see how much money there was in the offerings; that mattered to them, but they were not close to the people, they were not close to the people."
This is why "Jesus always presents himself in this way, close," the Pontiff pointed out. And "many times in the Gospel it appears that closeness comes from what Jesus feels in his heart: 'Jesus was moved,' says a passage from the Gospel, for example, he feels mercy, he draws near." For this reason, "Jesus was always there with the people discarded by that small clerical group: there were the poor, the sick, the sinners, the lepers: they were all there because Jesus had this ability to be moved by illness; he was a good shepherd." And "a good shepherd draws near and has the ability to be moved."
"And I will say," Francis affirmed, "that the third trait of a good shepherd is not to be ashamed of the flesh, to touch the wounded flesh, as Jesus did with this woman: 'he touched', 'he laid his hands on', he touched the lepers, he touched the sinners." It is "a very close closeness, very close." Touching "the flesh," therefore. Because "a good shepherd does not say: 'But, yes, it's okay, yes, yes, I am close to you in spirit'." In reality, "this is a distance" and not closeness.
Instead, the Pope insisted, "the good shepherd does what God the Father did, drawing near, out of compassion, out of mercy, in the flesh of his Son. This is a good shepherd." And 'the great shepherd, the Father, taught us how to be a good shepherd: he lowered himself, he emptied himself, he annihilated himself, he took the form of a servant'.
This is precisely 'the way of the good shepherd', explained the Pontiff. And here we may ask ourselves: ' But what about the others, those who follow the path of clericalism, who do they approach?" These people, Francis replied, "always approach either the power of the moment or money, and they are bad shepherds: they only think about how to climb the ladder of power, be friends with those in power, and negotiate everything or think about their pockets, and these are the hypocrites, capable of anything." Certainly, "these people do not care about the people. And when Jesus calls them that beautiful adjective he uses so often with them — 'hypocrites' — they are offended: 'But we, no, we follow the law'." Instead, "the people were happy: it is a sin for the people of God to see when bad shepherds are beaten; it is a sin, yes, but they have suffered so much that they 'enjoy' this a little bit."
"Let us think," suggests the Pontiff, "of the good shepherd, let us think of Jesus who sees, calls, speaks, touches and heals; let us think of the Father who becomes flesh in his Son, out of compassion." And "this is the way of the good shepherd, the shepherd we see here today, in this passage from the Gospel: it is a grace for the people of God to have good shepherds, shepherds like Jesus, who are not ashamed to touch wounded flesh, who know that on this — not only them, but all of us — we will be judged: I was hungry, I was in prison, I was sick... '.
'The criteria of the final protocol,' concluded the Pope, 'are the criteria of closeness, the criteria of this total closeness' in order to 'touch, share the situation of God's people'. And 'let us not forget this: the good shepherd always draws close to the people, always, just as God our Father drew close to us, in Jesus Christ made flesh'.
[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano, 31 October 2017]

(Lk 18:9-14)

Mechanism of retribution denies the essential experience of the life of Faith: ‘allowing oneself to be a saved person, living from Mystery’ - instead of the closed circle of narrow “justices” that have nowhere to go.

To introduce oneself into the newness of Christ it’s enough to have met oneself and to be sincere: a strange holiness, accessible to all.

It comes to reality, even the most intimate: we are not omnipotent in goodness; we cannot do much good, from sophistication, from ideas, from muscles.

By leaving room for the Father's intervention, we learn to trust in what we receive, more than relying on the expectations even of others, or on what is proposed and imposed.

Our concrete history can be reflected in the form of Prayer. But if dialogue with God doesn’t emerge from a penetrating perception and is satisfied with external goals, Listening becomes empty.

The spirit of “greatness” (also moral and spiritual) sinks inexorably - and into true misery: the epidermal one.

It doesn’t see the Father's exceptionality: He who transmits life.

Those who live by comparisons and have a contemptuous evaluation of the considered inferior ones, do not enjoy openings.

They remain without space or time for the action of the multifaceted being, in the variety of situations.

They misplace themselves in front of God and neighbor - denying themselves the joy of Gratis and Novelty.

In this way, they never trust in what’s more reliable than a worldview, or in their own leadership initiatives.

They do not grasp anything they do not already know, because they do not read inside.

They are in constant monologue: with themselves [but never reaching the self’s bottom] and those of their own circle.

So they don't pour out happiness - which comes from amazement.

In all circumstances, they find only a theater, an echo’s rumble of others’ voices, and around them.

Not the intimacy of exceptional and beloved person as it is.

The subject of archaic religious life is in fact “the our" - the ego.

If Jesus had asked which of the two could return home justified, everyone would have pointed to the pharisee, the reserved one apart.

In the life of Faith, the Subject is instead the Mystery, the Eternal, the Living One.

It’s He who works, by creating: and only He acts here too.

He justifies, that is, He places justice where there is none. The self-sufficient person has no need.

This is the real and royal Principle, engine of our realization and of authentic prayer-hearing, stripped of merits and pride, but capable of recovering the ‘opposite sides’.

God fears flawless liturgies and individual prayers in which nothing happens and from which one comes out without having experienced his «Creative Action» and his forgiveness.

Work not ours. Energy and sting that even in our innermost being brings us an Alliance of ‘faces’, a conviviality of differences.

In the spiritual and social life of the "polyhedron" and of the daily brief, we are enabled to translate the need for a ‘jointing-sentiment’, which the Father communicates in a broad manner, and giving us time.

Much more than a struggle between opposing worldviews: divine Justice is unprecedented, and growing - it cannot be bought by manner deeds.

To internalize and live the message:

When do I see myself as a pharisee and when publican?

How can I meet myself, by contemplating God? And while I meet others?

[30th Sunday in O.T. (year C), October 26, 2025]

Pharisee-publican: the two souls, and the essential Mystery

(Lk 18:9-14)

Says the Tao Tê Ching (x): "Preserve the One by dwelling in the two souls: are you able to keep them from separating?".

The many conventional depictions and interpretations of the episode lead us astray.

The one parable set in the Temple is a volcano of paradoxical, extraordinary scope that you would not expect.

The Jews pray standing, a sign of their readiness to immediately put into action what the Lord asks.

For us, standing means that we celebrate as risen children.

But here the phenomenon of religiosity and morality "standing, he prayed thus to himself" (v.11): he does not converse with God, nor does he realise anything!

Perhaps he is convinced he is praying, but he is doing something else entirely: he does not listen, he does not pay attention, he does not perceive the message and the meaning of the presence, he just distances himself from it.

I remember in the great hall of the Apostolic Penitentiary the epigraph 'Pax omnium rerum tranquillitas ordinis'.

A mentality that, if mediated by approximate moralisms, does not stay with us; it neither brings us, nor infuses us with depth and relationships.

On this basis, if the two protagonists of the passage had presented themselves in confession, I would have sentenced: the Pharisee lacks humility, the other repays the damage.

Even the head of L'Osservatore Romano reiterates the motto-epigraph 'Unicuique Suum' - a fundamental principle of property law in the Latin world.

Isn't Justice enough? [Would Jesus be needed?]

The point is: to know Love, a rich reality: not to exchange favours with God. And take the position that does not pollute or corrupt life. That is the whole game.

"I renounce, I leave everything, I leave, I think, I say, I plan, I will be impeccable and faithful by always making others see me "in my way" [i.e. as I am not]": this is the ideal nursery rhyme that overturns the adventure of Faith.

The subject of the religious man is himself and what he does for God - as well as how he acts (in an artificial way); so on.

Ridiculous - not just deeply reductive. But from this idea springs the consideration of the other and the different as irredeemable.

Instead, each person's life is full of inner antinomies and stand-ins.

Let us try to turn the parable around from a moralistic level to a theological one, because Lk - mind you - stages the best of spirituality and the worst of the morality of the time.

Here is his boomerang: he wants to start a reflection on ourselves.

"Thieves": Jesus defines as such precisely the religious leaders and the "Pharisees" [back], inside full of robbery, although on the outside they look like who knows what. 

"Unjust": [just to make a long story short] St Theresa said that God is just because he takes our difficulties into account.

"Adulterers": but theological adultery is precisely queuing up to an idol (here the father-ego contemplating the external self).

In the biblical concept, 'adultery' properly means an improper devotional relationship, as with an inauthentic deity.

In this way, even an impeccable formal relationship - and vice versa - takes the side of the fetish.

In short, the 'saint' does not address the Father, but the God-form he has in mind - although he even wants to impress him with exaggerations (v.12).

But he does not agree with the thought of the Eternal.

He does not perceive the plan of the Most High: to build up the human family. To help one another, and enrich one another.

So he will never allow himself to be changed - even convinced that he is exactly reproducing his tutelary genius.

For the professionals of the sacred mania for false perfection, Salvation is the final prize of an individual climb.

Not the re-creative and gratuitous Work of a Parent who ferries our complex vicissitudes, leaving space and way for them to evolve into a saved life.

Thus, both personal and communal experience is inculcated, because standard 'religion' inculcates and retains a deformed image of one's character, and of the Ideal.

The Almighty in Love takes on in the unconscious the guise of the Master of Heaven, earth, and the underworld - distributor of rewards and punishments.

Here, devotion will sooner or later rhyme with 'separation'.

Instead, Justification alludes to a sharper, more respectful, wise arrangement.

Position towards God [who is not a notary] and towards humanity, which is all ours; it would be puerile to have contempt for it.

Genuineness and Spirit go in synergy.

No one is recommended by Christ to "make himself holy" or "separate", as recommended by the ancient Law (Lev 19:2) and by a whole archaic spirituality.

The new criterion is inclusive: the conviviality of differences and the fruitful recovery of opposites. Precisely, the Love that flourishes in naturalness.

If we really want, the meaning of the journey in the Spirit could be identified in the critical passage from the First to the New Testament.

But it would still be too banal to imagine that in the Old God is forensic Judge and in the New "judge of the heart".The Justification that the Father works concerns the intimate form of what "moves", and the sense of what motivates and prods us.

The misguided scientists of the pious life have always portrayed Salvation as the ultimate prize of a gruelling climb.

A poor, well-motivated, yet plagued, harassed and misguided soul used to tell me: 'the more you climb the more you acquire'.

Instead, when God works, He creates, placing us in the right attitude and leading us in a fruitful direction - not said uphill.

All for the purpose of fulfilling and completing us, not to exhaust and annihilate the bearing lines of our personality, unrepeatable, incomparable.

A configuration of balances that we know well is not ordinary, not mechanical, not predictable.

The Father is not a coach who only delights in the strongest of his forwards.

He is not attracted by the virtues of the few, but by the many needs of all.

While waiting for unresolved solutions, he does not look at the merits of people, but at their need to be completed.

Therefore he who does good deserves absolutely nothing: he only has to thank Providence, which has led him early on the road to an experience of fullness of being, on the Path of Joy.

Sticking to his trunk, the arrogant veteran of the sacred and of discipline (and of respectable or veteran ways) remains there.

Mired in the self-satisfied 'his' - bent over the navel of the works of law with which he wanted to buy God's approval - artificially showing himself to be his friend.

And he returns home, that is, to the community (v.14), the same as before: one-sided, like a sphinx.

They are the whitewashed sepulchres before whom we must bow down to kiss the sacred slippers, otherwise we do not pass.

They are the separated from the rest of the crowd, because for them people can only be: helpful, or annoying.

There is nothing to do. Certain complacent and self-sufficient people, who have never experienced humus and gratis, God cannot make them right.

They are not accustomed to look at reality, not even their own - but to emphasise every separation he disdains. And only what is prescribed; from which there is no escape.

They seem to be men all of a piece and possess a high sense of divine exclusivity.

Yet there are no deep spiritual energies in them - those who know how to see beyond to the most varied fragrances.

The first not to know how to entrust themselves to the Mystery, they continue to plague the air, certain of their spiritual rank and accolades - claiming (of course) duties wherever they concede.

Not even the Father can justify them, that is, place them in the right place before Him and their brothers.

The sense of holiness by which they feel cloaked leads them to the disdain of others, and there is no way around it.

How can we also discern the traces of religious conceit in ourselves? This is the relevant theme of the parable (v.9).

From the Prayer itself, it is clear that our very face possesses a hammering, devilish image of the Eternal.

Like one who is an accountant, that is, who pays according to merit and punishes according to fault.

Whereas the biblical God gives in pure loss. Why?

In the Spirit we grasp an energy that must do its work in the moment [so frequently without equal], or in the even disjointed rhythm of multiple happenings and relationships.

Here we sense the partial and paradoxical deity of the 'fellow travellers' - such as the blameless and the sinner, who remind us of the Mission.

Co-present characters in the soul: unique deviations that complement and perfect, becoming our unrepeatable Originality.

Life of Faith and Prayer do bring healing, but sometimes they seem to disappear, as if we were approaching the transgressor of the Gospel.

They give answers, but sometimes they also seem fortuitous.

They have the same disorganised and interrupted pace (the real change comes unexpectedly) but the same symbiotic composition, structure, complex figure, of a shrub and love.

A beautiful lush plant has its seasons; not even it dreams of possessing a connotation without nuances and opposing sides.

It may be disconcerting, but the realities of nature do not dispense with the roots because they mingle with muck, slime, darkness and worms - creeping parasites; like the publican, immersed in sin up to his neck.

If a rose were to cut off the hidden, festering base from which it rises, the whole plant would collapse, losing even its spectacular individuality.

It is the confusion - even fetid and nauseating confusion - that creates a fertile soil welcoming all roles, and the non-monochromatic ripening space open to every strand of life.

There are seemingly obscuring phases and presences to take note of, on which we are as if sitting.

Almost in a reversal of plans, it is the encounter with our shadows that makes us soar and affirm.

The Pharisee's merit, and the publican's need, are symbiotic aspects.By ancient upbringing to believe the codes, we are almost dazed by novelty.

But we can only plant the seed of growth by embracing life without presumptuous expectations.

From discriminating certainties, induced maniacal intentions, obvious platitudes, no development, no realisation, no blossoming with exponential results - in all our sides - comes.

Even in love, for example, we do not want to fixate on a false idea, made up of prejudices, ideological schemes, and divisions.

Then - but precisely in order to save ourselves - frailties surface.

They can lead us to dependence, but also to seeking new communication, for a better completeness.

If the past remains a primordial totem, as artificial as sophisticated, disembodied ideologies - everything becomes fantasy, regret, confusion, disaster.

On the spiritual path, woe betide the great artificial loves, with their enveloping and overflowing, yet aseptic charm.

Frenzy that invades and occupies life, blocks and repudiates every project; it does not free the soul from distinctions.

It does not allow new destinies to be noticed. It makes us abdicate. It settles us on the surface and does not overturn destinies (cf. v.14).

Thus our natural, emotional and supernatural organism: convinced only of something and unable to break those compartments.

It would die - if it lost the completeness of polarities, the most obvious spontaneity, and was sterilised. Transmitting its own death, all around.

As in created realities, in the spiritual vicissitude it is the contradictory sides that compose the wealth of faculties, inclinations, destinies, faces, and capacities.

Sometimes it is precisely the particular crises to be faced with special qualities and specific resources not in line with the usual or imperative inclinations - that bring us back on our true path.

It is in the ceaseless Encounter with the crowd of characters intimate to us, and in turning around to notice and perceive, that the limiting caducity is decanted, and man is unified.

All this so that he becomes solid and open, reliable and creative, capable of being both inside and outside the home.

And the Father gives us time for a varied formation, to wait until we encounter every facet in the ambivalence of the process.

Too many filters, too many censorships, too many brakes, would not prepare the evolutionary metamorphosis that belongs to us: the one that is able to overcome difficult moments not with a laboured or sweaty opening, but with a dream, and with the caress of a real twist.

In the oration-monologue, the narcissist that we sometimes are, merely informs the motionless Principle of his achievements, because he sees nothing but himself.

But he neither rules nor regulates what is human or divine.

Nor does he wonder to which God he is addressing himself, and in what posture he stands.

He has not prayed, he has not tuned his thoughts to those of the Father. He has only wearied souls, extinguished and ruined relationships.

He is in a position of cynicism and inability to grasp the distance between the true man and the Creator.

This prevents him from surrendering to Him, and not surrendering makes the ability to receive a new Vocation within the Vocation [which is never 'right' and satisfactory] pale.

Believes perfection as a safe harbour; imagines reflecting God on earth, having the same mentality and His same relationships...

After all, the unkind, resolute, closed-circle friends he associates with would be the same as his well-shaped but worthless Totem.

Like him, they too remain in the static sphere, devoid of desire - but with a mountain of scruples. Or without a reality principle.

A milieu of the petty and ridiculous: measured men, as infantile as their object (subject) of worship, namely the self - which sees no further than the pond of dead water at hand.

The drawing-room 'Pharisee' or devotee is not even touched by doubt.

A dangerous position, which will never allow one to reflect on the innermost paradoxes that start and restart the Exodus, activating new passions.

Fearing what ends, it will never experience the ineffable Joy of the Gift now, which ignites history and changes lives.

Nothing in terms of astonishment is inaugurated, based on an identity of characteristics or views.

This is especially so if the distinctive lines remain imprisoned in the past (or future). If they remain, in the way of living and understanding 'of before' (or 'of after') that returns to direct us.

And they do not trust the Love that prepares the fruit of the Spirit: it is coming; as it is.

He who has no lapidary certainties, does not let himself be led in an artificial manner.

Rather, he lets himself be taken as if by a current of insecurity, which will nevertheless lead him to know profound Happiness, the great flourishing.

The breaking of the waters of a further birth: life in the round.

In short, once habits, abstract ideas, identifications, common opinions, even glamorous fashions have been put in the background, the founding Eros of our personal Calling will still be able to take the field.Gaining migrations, manifesting all its Fire.

In life we have been victims, sometimes even executioners.

God knows this and allows our freedom to emerge: conversely, in any enclosure, in any cadenced choice, the possibilities of the inner world remain closed.

So - to question ourselves - we give the no-moments, the opposing presences and preferences, as well as the most unexpected voices from within.

Other profiles, which also belong to us; anything other than the ways of being we already know [they have not yet expressed themselves, but sooner or later they will want to find space].

Simply, it is good to take on their traits - and to house them in us in an absolutely honest way.

So that they do not become lacerating disorders, or to be supplemented with perversions, profiteering, the exercise of power, sectarian attitudes: bad habits, barely covered by affable stylistic features.

The buried and perhaps as yet undiscovered sides are not meant to disturb the fundamental option to goodness, but the useless, all-predictable existence.

They are as many Calls, surprising, but which by innate force know where to lead us.

There are paths that belong to us that have not yet emerged, or of which we have lost memory.

Thus, precisely by virtue of such inner congeries - phase after phase - the character that is pertinent to the person... spontaneously and providentially traces its course.

Only if we are impregnated with that which is infinite and at the same time with that which lies at the base of the soul, will our Pharisee self not detach itself from the publican self.

Mouldable energies, faces that correspond to us deeply and in fact; masters of practice and concept; not of manners.

They are in varying mixtures and according to the ages of life, the real facets of our variegated spiritual essence.

Binary tracks that run below or parallel, but sometimes intersect and outclass each other, creating a magma that waits moment by moment to be performed.

To realise the Destination that is all ours, there have already been many doors to open.

And we have frequently verified that the Flower we sought was hiding right among our ailments.

So much for already considering ourselves close to Paradise!

Well: God introduces us into another kind of coexistence, within and without: balance, serenity, Communion.

For in that which truly impels to the eternal, everything is recovered. In the Fullness, nothing is separated from nothing.

It is the authentic turning point, which gives dignity to what happens. And it opens the door to Completion.

Reiterates the Tao (xxvii):

"That is why the saint always well helps men and therefore there are no rejected men, always well helps creatures and therefore there are no rejected creatures; this is called transfusing illumination. Thus the man who is good is master of the man who is not good, the man who is not good is profit to the good man. Whoever does not appreciate such a master, whoever does not cherish such a profit, even if he is wise falls into grave deception: this is called the essential mystery".

To internalise and live the message:

When do I meet myself as a Pharisee and when as a publican?

How can I meet myself contemplating God? And by encountering others?

When God comes close to you, do you abandon yourself or do you fear what will end?

What were the experiences of undeserved love that changed your life?

Have you found greater understanding within or outside the Church? From friends and acquaintances or from supertitles of the sacred? How so?

“Two men went up into the temple to pray”; the one “went down to his house justified rather than the other” (Lk 18:10, 14). The latter had paraded all his merits before God, virtually making God his debtor. Deep down, he felt no need for God, even though he thanked him for letting him become so perfect, “not like this tax collector”. And yet it was the tax collector who went down to his house justified. Conscious of his sins, and so not even lifting his head – although in his trust he is completely turned towards Heaven – he awaits everything from the Lord: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Lk 18:13). He knocks on the door of mercy, which then opens and justifies him, for, as Jesus concludes: “everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Lk 18:14).

Saint Paul, the patron saint of the city of Luanda and of this splendid church built some fifty years ago, speaks to us from personal experience about this God who is rich in mercy. I wanted to highlight the second millennium of the birth of Saint Paul by celebrating the present Pauline Year, so that we can learn from him how to know Jesus Christ more fully. This is the testimony which Paul has bequeathed to us: “The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. And I am the foremost of sinners; but I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience for an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life” (1 Tim 1:15-16). In the course of the centuries, the number of people touched by grace has continually grown. You and I are among them. Let us give thanks to God because he has called us to be part of this age-long procession and thus to advance towards the future. In the footsteps of all Jesus’ followers, let us join them in following Christ himself and thus enter into the Light.

[Pope Benedict, homily, Luanda, 21 March 2009]

It is his Love that triumphs over death and gives us eternity and it is this love that we call "Heaven": God is so great that he also makes room for us. And Jesus the man, who at the same time is God, is the guarantee for us that the being-man and the being-God can exist and live, the one within the other, for eternity. 

This means that not only a part of each one of us will continue to exist, as it were pulled to safety, while other parts fall into ruin; on the contrary it means that God knows and loves the whole of the human being, what we are. And God welcomes into his eternity what is developing and becoming now, in our life made up of suffering and love, of hope, joy and sorrow. The whole of man, the whole of his life, is taken by God and, purified in him, receives eternity. Dear Friends! I think this is a truth that should fill us with deep joy. Christianity does not proclaim merely some salvation of the soul in a vague afterlife in which all that is precious and dear to us in this world would be eliminated, but promises eternal life, "the life of the world to come". Nothing that is precious and dear to us will fall into ruin; rather, it will find fullness in God. Every hair of our head is counted, Jesus said one day (cf. Mt 10: 30). The definitive world will also be the fulfilment of this earth, as St Paul says: "Creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God" (Rom 8: 21). Then we understand that Christianity imparts a strong hope in a bright future and paves the way to the realization of this future. We are called, precisely as Christians, to build this new world, to work so that, one day, it may become the "world of God", a world that will surpass all that we ourselves have been able to build. In Mary taken up into Heaven, who fully shares in the Resurrection of the Son, we contemplate the fulfilment of the human creature in accordance with "God's world". 

Let us pray the Lord that he will enable us to understand how precious in his eyes is the whole of our life; may he strengthen our faith in eternal life; make us people of hope who work to build a world open to God, people full of joy who can glimpse the beauty of the future world amidst the worries of daily life and in this certainty live, believe and hope. Amen!

[Pope Benedict, homily, 15 August 2010]

6. “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector” (Lk 18:10). However, only one returned home justified. And it was the tax collector (cf. Lk 18:14). This means that only he reached the inner mystery of the temple, the mystery united with its consecration. Only he, even though both had gone there to pray.

Thus, it appears that the sacred space itself, the temple, the cathedral, must be further filled with another space that is totally interior and spiritual: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" writes St Paul (1 Cor 3:16).

In fact, your cathedral, like so many others in the world, is filled with an almost infinite number of those inner temples, which are human "hearts". Who do these human "hearts" most resemble? The Pharisee or the tax collector? The temple is a sign of man's reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. However, the reality of this reconciliation - which is indicated by the external sign of the temple - ultimately passes through the human heart, through this sanctuary of justification and holiness.

7. The Pharisee returned "unjustified" because he was "full of himself". In the 'space' of his heart there was no room for God. The Pharisee was present in the physical temple, but God was not present in the temple of his heart. Why, then, did the tax collector return 'justified'? Because, unlike the Pharisee, he humbly recognised that he needed to be justified. He did not judge others. He judged himself.

The tax collector 'stands at a distance', yet - and perhaps he does not realise it - he is closer than ever to the Lord, because 'the Lord, as the Psalm says (33:19), is close to those who have a wounded heart'. God is not at all far from the sinner, if that sinner has a 'broken heart', that is, a repentant heart, and trusts, like the tax collector, in divine mercy: 'O God, have mercy on me, a sinner'. The tax collector, therefore, does not glory in himself, but in the Lord. He does not exalt himself. He does not put himself first, but recognises God's majesty and transcendence. He knows that God is great and merciful, and that he bends down to the cry of the poor and the humble.

The tax collector "stands at a distance," but at the same time he trusts. This is the right attitude towards God. To feel unworthy of him because of one's sins, but to trust in his mercy precisely because he loves the repentant sinner.

[Pope John Paul II, homily in Perugia, 26 October 1986]

Jesus wants to show us the right attitude for prayer and for invoking the mercy of the Father; how one must pray; the right attitude for prayer. It is the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector (cf. Lk 18:9-14). Both men went up into the Temple to pray, but they do so in very different ways, obtaining opposite results. 

The pharisee stood and prayed using many words. His is yes, a prayer of thanksgiving to God, but it is really just a display of his own merits, with a sense of superiority over “other men”, whom he describes as “extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even,” for example, referring to the other one there, “like this tax collector” (v. 11). But this is the real problem: that pharisee prays to God, but in truth he is just self-lauditory. He is praying to himself! Instead of having the Lord before his eyes, he has a mirror. Although he is standing in the Temple, he doesn’t feel the need to prostrate himself before the majesty of God; he remains standing, he feels secure, as if he were the master of the Temple! He lists all the good works he has done: he is beyond reproach, observing the Law beyond measure, he fasts “twice a week” and pays “tithes” on all he possesses. In short, rather than prayer, he is satisfied with his observance of the precepts. Yet, his attitude and his words are far from the way of God’s words and actions, the God who loves all men and does not despise sinners. On the contrary, this pharisee despises sinners, even by indicating the other one there. In short, the pharisee, who holds himself to be just, neglects the most important commandment: love of God and of neighbour. 

It is not enough, therefore, to ask how much we pray, we have to ask ourselves how we pray, or better, in what state our heart is: it is important to examine it so as to evaluate our thoughts, our feelings, and root out arrogance and hypocrisy. But, I ask myself: can one pray with arrogance? No. Can one pray with hypocrisy? No. We must only pray by placing ourselves before God just as we are. Not like the pharisee who prays with arrogance and hypocrisy. We are all taken up by the phrenetic pace of daily life, often at the mercy of feelings, dazed and confused. It is necessary to learn how to rediscover the path to our heart, to recover the value of intimacy and silence, because the God who encounters us and speaks to us is there. Only by beginning there can we in our turn encounter others and speak with them. The pharisee walked toward the Temple, sure of himself, but he was unaware of the fact that his heart had lost the way. 

Instead the tax collector — the other man — presents himself in the Temple with a humble and repentant spirit: “standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast” (v. 13). His prayer was very brief, not long like that of the pharisee: “God, be merciful to me a sinner”. Nothing more. A beautiful prayer! Indeed, tax collectors — then called “publicans” — were considered impure, subject to foreign rulers; they were disliked by the people and socially associated with “sinners”. The parable teaches us that a man is just or sinful not because of his social class, but because of his way of relating to God and how he relates to his brothers and sisters. Gestures of repentance and the few and brief words of the tax collector bear witness to his awareness of his own miserable condition. His prayer is essential. He acts out of humility, certain only that he is a sinner in need of mercy. If the pharisee asked for nothing because he already had everything, the tax collector can only beg for the mercy of God. And this is beautiful: to beg for the mercy of God! Presenting himself with “empty hands”, with a bare heart and acknowledging himself to be a sinner, the tax collector shows us all the condition that is necessary in order to receive the Lord’s forgiveness. In the end, he is the one, so despised, who becomes an icon of the true believer.

Jesus concludes the parable with the judgment: “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted” (v. 14). Of these two, who is the corrupt one? The pharisee. The pharisee is the very icon of a corrupt person who pretends to pray, but only manages to strut in front of a mirror. He is corrupt and he is pretending to pray. Thus, in life whoever believes himself to be just and criticises others and despises them, is corrupt and a hypocrite. Pride compromises every good deed, empties prayer, creates distance from God and from others. 

If God prefers humility it is not to dishearten us: rather, humility is the necessary condition to be raised by Him, so as to experience the mercy that comes to fill our emptiness. If the prayer of the proud does not reach God’s heart, the humility of the poor opens it wide. God has a weakness for the humble ones. Before a humble heart, God opens his heart entirely. It is this humility that the Virgin Mary expresses in the Canticle of the Magnificat: “he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden […] his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation” (Lk 1:48, 50). Let her help us, our Mother, to pray with a humble heart. And we, let us repeat that beautiful prayer three times: “Oh God, be merciful to me a sinner”.

[Pope Francis, General Audience, 1 June 2016]

Conversion and Times

(Lk 13:1-9)

Conversion refers to a process that shakes the soul, due to an Encounter. A ‘meeting’ that opens to the knowledge of ourselves.

A dialogue that projects minds and actions onto reality and the Mystery, which ceaselessly refer to a new Exodus.

Even today, the swampy counterpart of the life of Faith wedges itself like a constant woodworm, and is symbolized by an arid confrontation, expressed in the absence of fruit on an unnecessarily leafy tree.

The ‘vineyard’ is an icon of the chosen people and the ‘fig tree’ of its central prosperity. Here evokes the Temple, in particular its liturgical nucleus: the Sanctuary.

The cult that took place in the sacred of ​​the vast area of ​​Mount Zion had to express the praise of a people who were constantly listening, called to a life of sharing and fraternity.

The delicious fruits that the Lord was waiting for should have been sweet and tender (like figs), but they were hard and inedible. The Call had been dropped on deaf ears.

The many and showy "leaves" of the most devout rite didn’t celebrate a life of welcome and understanding, rather tended to hide the bitter berries of a style in no way conforming to the divine plan.

We ask ourselves: how much time do we have available to amend and not regress, living fully the present?

Is the Father's governmental action punitive or only responsible and life-giving?

In the parable of the sterile fig tree we learn: the only condition that can change a history of infertility and squalor - as well as the danger of formalism - is the time still needed to assimilate the Word.

Forward process, linked to the unpredictable way in which the vital call of the Seed and the particular reaching out of its roots intertwine with the earth of the soul, then overflowing in relation to the events.

Appeal that never ceases, in the reverb of which is elaborated and strengthened the change of mentality that introduces into conviviality and into the plan of liberation for an alternative world: the Kingdom of God.

After the three years of the Son's public life, there is a ‘fourth year’ that extends to the history of the Church (vv. 7-9).

It does not want to conceal the luxuriance of life but to make it blossom, and without ceasing recalls a flourishing growth; for a feeling of Family with sweetest fruit, which is not satisfied with external practices.

As the encyclical Brothers All points out, the Lord still dreams of a «plan that would set great goals for the development of our entire human family» (n.16).

For this purpose «we need to think of ourselves more and more as a single family dwelling in a common home. Such care does not interest those economic powers that demand quick profits» (n.17).

The hasty logic - as well as the epidermal rush of the society of events - creates inequalities, not only in the commercial field.

In short, everything becomes an opportunity for the Eternal’s flowering and action ground, history that is truly ours: teaching of authentic theology and humanization - if the people’s story unfolds ‘on the way’.

The God of religion has his own claims and does not appear long-suffering. The Father of Jesus knows how to wait. He does not get angry, he does not give in to the frenzy of blow for blow. He is not disinterested, but not complain; nor take revenge.

He proposes solutions.

In doing so He will not cause irreparable trouble - indeed will astound us. For a new Spring, in which the fig tree gives its unrepeatable sugary, juicy and highly energetic Fruit - before the many leaves.

So that ‘fraternity’ does not «remain just another vague ideal» (n.109).

[Saturday 29th wk. in O.T.  October 25, 2025]

Conversion and Times

(Luke 13:1-9)

Conversion refers to a process that shakes the soul, because of an Encounter. A rediscovery that opens to self-knowledge.

A dialogue that projects mind and actions onto reality and Mystery, which incessantly refer back to a new Exodus.

Even today, the swampy counterpart to the life of Faith wedges in like a constant woodworm, and is symbolized by a barren confrontation, expressed in the absence of fruit above an unnecessarily leafy tree.

The vineyard is iconic of the Chosen People and the fig tree of its central prosperity. Here it evokes the Temple, particularly its liturgical core: the Sanctuary.

According to religious prejudices - of class, purity conditions, ministry, progressive skimming - within strictly demarcated perimeters homage was paid to the God of Israel.

The worship that took place in the sacred zone of the vast Mount Zion area was to express the praise of a people in constant listening, called to a life of sharing and fraternity.

The delicious fruits that the Lord awaited should have been sweet and tender (like figs); conversely, they turned out to be hard and inedible. His Appeal had been let fall on deaf ears.

The many and conspicuous "leaves" of the devout rite did not celebrate a life of acceptance and understanding, but tended precisely to hide the bitter berries of a style in nothing in accordance with the divine plan.

We ask ourselves: how much time do we have to amend and not regress, living fully in the present? Is the Father's governing action punitive or only responsible and life-giving?

In the parable of the barren fig tree we learn: the only condition that can change a history of infertility and squalor - as well as the danger of formalism - is the time still needed to assimilate the Word.

Forward process, linked to the unpredictable manner in which the vital Call of the Seed and the particular outreach of its roots intertwines with the soil of the soul, then overflows in relation to happenings.

Call that does not cease; in whose reverberation is elaborated and strengthened the change of mentality that ushers in the mutual hospitable of convivialities and the design of liberation for an alternative world: the Kingdom of God.

Now in the hands of a useless and corrupt caste that had allowed the vital relationship to be extinguished, the threads of the ignored design of Salvation and Justice (in the sense first and foremost of authentic God-man positions and just relationships) are reknotted by the intensity of Father-Son relationship.

After the three years of public life, there is a "fourth year" that extends to the history of the Church (vv.7-9).

It is not meant to conceal the luxuriance of life but to make it blossom, and without ceasing it calls forth a flourishing growth; for a feeling of Family with the sweetest fruit, which is not satisfied with outward practices.

In order to overcome conditionings, suspicions, blockages, failures, there is a need for breath: it involves treading a long path of exploration.

There are no shortcuts, no useful U-conversions according to the code of official authorities, perpetually committed to mitigating and homologating charismatic peaks.

Indeed, Jesus had invited the crowds to have independent thinking and judgment (Luke 12:57: "Now why do you not judge for yourselves also what is right?").

Woe betide to be subjugated, accepting omertà out of calculation or fear. Our dignity and the missionary wealth to which God calls are at stake.

This is why the authorities considered Jesus to be like a Galilean: subversive and rebellious.

He suffers another intimidation by proxies of religious leaders (Lk 13:1). We seem to be witnessing a scene of prevarication with which we may be familiar.

As the encyclical Brothers All points out, the Lord still dreams of a project "with great goals, for the development of all humanity (No. 16)."

For this purpose "we need to constitute ourselves into a 'we' that inhabits the Common House. Such care does not interest the economic powers that need quick revenues" (n.17).

The rushed logic - as well as the epidermic haste of the society of events - creates inequalities, not only in the mercantile field.

In short, everything becomes opportunity for flourishing and ground for action of the Eternal, history truly ours: magisterium of authentic theology and humanization-if the story of the people unfolds on the way.

In the processes that trigger a history of redemption according to Gospel logic, the memory of the past does not alienate but interpellates: it does not trivially provide inert indefectible criteria for judging the present and obtaining repercussions or predictive capacities for the future.

The creed of philosophical-religious idealism may be a cocoon in which to lull oneself, but from the attentive and propulsive Faith flows a life of love that is also unpredictable, capable of inexplicable recoveries: it demands personal judgment and new grit in situation.

Harmful to dust off and readjust old things or one-sided dreams.It is necessary to have open eyes and at the same time to give time, so that we overcome the fatalisms of archaic monotheism, the sentiments that confuse intimist emotionalism with passion for the things of God, the reductionist and schematic fundamentalisms, the illusions that we are already well on the path of conversion.

The God of ancient religion has its demands and does not appear longsuffering. The Father of Jesus knows how to wait. He tolerates both stubbornness and careless acceleration.

He does not get irritated, does not give in to the frenzy of blow after blow. He is not disinterested, however, he does not complain; nor does he retaliate.

It proposes solutions.

She reiterates occasions that would melt the hard temper of our idols -- for an evolution toward a renewed masterpiece of heavenly Patience.

It has the style of the mother or at any rate of the parent - close relative - who by dint of caresses and kisses persuades the wayward child to be fed the food that will make him grow (calmly) and thus surpass himself.

In this way he does not cause irreparable trouble - in fact he will astound us.

For a new Spring, in which the fig gives its unrepeatable sugary fruit [never already dry or dried] juicy and highly energetic-before the many leaves.

So that fraternity does not remain "at best a romantic expression" (FT, 109).

To internalize and live the message:

How do you safeguard community living and your transpositions of Faith in Christ? What is the point of homologation in satisfactions, and where do you place your Preciousness?