"Strive to enter by the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able" (Lk 13: 23-24).

What does this "narrow door" mean? Why do many not succeed in entering through it? Is it a way reserved for only a few of the chosen?

Indeed, at close examination this way of reasoning by those who were conversing with Jesus is always timely: the temptation to interpret religious practice as a source of privileges or security is always lying in wait.

Actually, Christ's message goes in exactly the opposite direction: everyone may enter life, but the door is "narrow" for all. We are not privileged. The passage to eternal life is open to all, but it is "narrow" because it is demanding: it requires commitment, self-denial and the mortification of one's selfishness.

Once again, as on recent Sundays, the Gospel invites us to think about the future which awaits us and for which we must prepare during our earthly pilgrimage.

Salvation, which Jesus brought with his death and Resurrection, is universal. He is the One Redeemer and invites everyone to the banquet of immortal life; but on one and the same condition: that of striving to follow and imitate him, taking up one's cross as he did, and devoting one's life to serving the brethren. This condition for entering heavenly life is consequently one and universal.

In the Gospel, Jesus recalls further that it is not on the basis of presumed privileges that we will be judged but according to our actions. The "workers of iniquity" will find themselves shut out, whereas all who have done good and sought justice at the cost of sacrifices will be welcomed.

Thus, it will not suffice to declare that we are "friends" of Christ, boasting of false merits: "We ate and drank in your presence, and you taught in our streets" (Lk 13: 26).

True friendship with Jesus is expressed in the way of life: it is expressed with goodness of heart, with humility, meekness and mercy, love for justice and truth, a sincere and honest commitment to peace and reconciliation.

We might say that this is the "identity card" that qualifies us as his real "friends"; this is the "passport" that will give us access to eternal life.

Dear brothers and sisters, if we too want to pass through the narrow door, we must work to be little, that is, humble of heart like Jesus, like Mary his Mother and our Mother. She was the first, following her Son, to take the way of the Cross and she was taken up to Heaven in glory, an event we commemorated a few days ago. The Christian people invoke her as Ianua Caeli, Gate of Heaven. Let us ask her to guide us in our daily decisions on the road that leads to the "gate of Heaven".

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 26 August 2007]

The beatitudes pronounced so solemnly by Jesus stand, on the one hand, in antithesis to certain values that are instead honoured by the world and, on the other hand, in the perspective of a future and final fate, in which situations are reversed. They all stand or fall together; one cannot extract only one and cultivate it to the detriment of the others. All the saints have always been and are simultaneously, albeit to varying degrees, hungry and thirsty for justice, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, persecuted for the sake of the gospel. And so must we also be. What is more, on the basis of this Gospel page, it is evident that Christian beatitude, as a synonym for holiness, is not divorced from an element of suffering or at least difficulty: it is not easy to be or to want to be poor, meek, pure; nor would one want to be persecuted, not even because of justice. But the kingdom of heaven is for the non-conformist (cf. Rom 12:2), and the words of St Peter apply to us as well: 'Blessed are you if you are reviled for the name of Christ, for the Spirit of glory and the Spirit of God rest upon you.

Let none of you suffer as a murderer or thief or evildoer. But if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; rather let him glorify God for this name' (1 Peter 4:14-16). Indeed, our perspective is not short-term, but endless. Written for us are the enlightening words of the Apostle Paul: "The momentary, light burden of our tribulation procures for us an immeasurable and eternal amount of glory, because we do not fix our eyes on visible things, but on things invisible. Visible things are momentary, invisible things are eternal" (2 Cor 4:17-18).

[Pope John Paul II, at Verano 1 November 1980]

This way means entering through a door. But where is the door? Who is the door? Jesus himself is that door. He says so in the Gospel of John: “I am the door” (10:9). He leads us to communion with the Father, where we find love, understanding and protection. But why is this door narrow, one might ask? Why does he say it is narrow? It is a narrow door not because it is oppressive, but because it demands that we restrain and limit our pride and our fear, in order to open ourselves to Him with humble and trusting hearts, acknowledging that we are sinners and in need of his forgiveness. This is why it is narrow, to limit our pride, which swells us. The door of God’s mercy is narrow but is always open to everyone! God does not have preferences, but always welcomes everyone, without distinction. A narrow door to restrain our pride and our fear; a door open wide because God welcomes us without distinction. And the salvation that He gives us is an unending flow of mercy that overcomes every barrier and opens surprising perspectives of light and peace. The door is narrow but always open wide: do not forget this.

Once more, Jesus extends a pressing invitation to us today to go to Him, to pass through the door of a full, reconciled and happy life. He awaits each one of us, no matter what sins we have committed, to embrace us, to offer us his forgiveness. He alone can transform our hearts, He alone can give full meaning to our existence, giving us true joy. By entering Jesus’ door, the door of faith and of the Gospel, we can leave behind worldly attitudes, bad habits, selfishness and narrow-mindedness. When we encounter the love and mercy of God, there is authentic change. Our lives are enlightened by the light of the Holy Spirit: an inextinguishable light!

I would like to propose something to you. Let us think now for a moment, in silence, of the things that we have inside us which prevent us from entering the door: my pride, my arrogance, my sins. Then, let us think of the other door, the one opened wide by the mercy of God who awaits us on the other side to grant us forgiveness.

The Lord offers us many opportunities to be saved and to enter through the door of salvation. This door is an occasion that can never be wasted: we don’t have to give long, erudite speeches about salvation, like the man who approached Jesus in the Gospel. Rather, we have to accept the opportunity for salvation. Because at a certain moment, the master of the house will rise and shut the door (cf. Lk 13:25), as the Gospel reminded us. But if God is good and loves us, why would he close the door at a certain point? Because our life is not a video game nor a television soap opera. Our life is serious and our goal is important: eternal salvation.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 21 August 2016]

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [14 June 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (19:2–6a)

This passage from Exodus describes the moment when God is about to establish the Covenant with Israel on Mount Sinai. Before giving the commandments, God reminds the people of what he has already done for them: he has freed them from Egypt and has always guided them with love and care. The image of the eagle carrying its young on its wings aptly expresses the way in which God accompanies his people: not to make them dependent, but to teach them freedom, like a parent who teaches their children to walk on their own. Deuteronomy, too, presents God as an eagle that protects, sustains and instructs its young. The Covenant is founded on this experience of love and liberation: the people’s trust arises from the fact that God has already demonstrated his faithfulness. For this reason, in the Bible, liberation always precedes the commandments. God promises Israel: ‘You shall be my special possession among all peoples, for the whole earth belongs to me; you shall be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ The election of Israel is therefore not a privilege to boast of, but a mission received in order to learn to love. Israel was chosen not because it was stronger or more numerous, but because it was loved by God. Over time, the people would come to understand more fully that God is not merely the God of Israel, but the Lord of the earth. Israel’s vocation is therefore universal: to be a sign of God’s presence for all peoples. The expression ‘a kingdom of priests, a holy nation’ indicates that the whole people is consecrated to God. This idea will be taken up by Christianity: according to the Apostle Peter, all the baptised share in a ‘royal priesthood’ and are called to proclaim the wonders of God. The central message is that God liberates, educates for freedom and calls his people to live a relationship of trust with him, not as an exclusive privilege, but as service and witness for the good of all.

Responsorial Psalm (99/100) 

This Psalm was composed to accompany a thanksgiving sacrifice in the Temple of Jerusalem. A liturgical atmosphere emerges from its very words: the people are invited to praise God, serve him with joy and enter his presence to give him thanks. The central theme of the Psalm is therefore the Covenant between God and Israel. Each verse recalls the memory of the deliverance from Egypt and the faithful love with which God chose and guided his people. For Israel, giving thanks means first and foremost remembering that God delivered them when they were slaves in Egypt and made them a people. He then entered into a covenant of communion with this people. The invocation “Praise the Lord, all you of the earth” proclaims that God is the true King and anticipates the day when all humanity will recognise his lordship. Israel thus understands that its election is not an exclusive privilege, but a mission in the service of all peoples. The expression “Serve the Lord with gladness” thus takes on a special meaning: after having been slaves in Egypt, the Israelites learn that service to God is not slavery, but a free response of love. When the Psalm states “He has made us, and we are his”, it does not refer primarily to the creation of man, but to the birth of Israel as the people of the Covenant. God has given identity and freedom to those who were slaves and scattered. The words “We are his people” recall the fundamental promise of the Covenant: “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. The Psalm concludes by celebrating two essential characteristics of God: his eternal love and his unfailing faithfulness. In the Bible, in fact, “love and truth or faithfulness” are the expressions that best describe God’s relationship with his people. The believer is called to acknowledge the Lord as the one and only God, remembering with gratitude his work of liberation and trusting in his love and faithfulness that endure forever.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (5:6–11) 

For Saint Paul, the coming of Jesus Christ marks a decisive turning point in human history. Before Christ, humanity, enslaved by sin, was unable to find the way back to God on its own and drifted ever further from Him. The great news of the Gospel is that Christ has set us back on the right path. Paul affirms that we have been justified and reconciled with God not because of our own merits, but by pure grace. It is a free gift: God takes the initiative and offers salvation to all through Jesus Christ. The expression ‘Christ died for us’ does not mean that God willed or demanded the violent death of His Son as compensation for humanity’s sins. God is love and does not act according to a logic of debts and payments. Jesus’ death must be understood as the consequence of His total fidelity to the mission He received: to proclaim God’s love, forgiveness, non-violence and mercy. Like a man who risks his life to save others, Jesus accepted the risk of being rejected. He was killed by men, a victim of hatred and violence, not by God’s will. Until the very end, however, he continued to bear witness to forgiveness. Looking at the cross, we then discover the true face of God: not an angry God seeking vengeance, but a God of love and mercy. In Jesus, who forgives even his persecutors, the goodness of the Father is fully revealed. The reconciliation of which Paul speaks consists precisely in overcoming mistrust towards God, that very mistrust represented by Adam. Thanks to the Holy Spirit, humanity can finally live at peace with God and receive his love. This is why Paul affirms that God’s love has been poured into our hearts: through Christ we are once again brought into communion with God and become his children. Salvation, therefore, is a free gift from God. Christ’s death is not a price demanded by God, but the supreme testimony of his love and forgiveness, which reconcile us with the Father and open up a new life for us.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (9:36–10:8) 

The people of the Old Testament had already discovered that God is merciful, that is, he bends down to human suffering. Whilst Jesus in the Gospel shows the same compassion, he does not limit himself to feeling pity, but intervenes concretely to heal and set free. This is why the mission of Jesus and his apostles is first and foremost a mission of healing. Jesus proclaims the Kingdom of God and, at the same time, offers visible signs of it: he heals the sick, frees people from evil spirits and restores life and hope. When he sends out his disciples, he entrusts them with the same task: proclaim that the Kingdom is near and fight evil in all its forms. Jesus is moved by compassion not only for individual suffering, but also for the whole people, whom he sees ‘as sheep without a shepherd’. In him are fulfilled the Old Testament promises concerning the Messiah-shepherd who would gather and guide his people. When Jesus asks the apostles to turn first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, he does not exclude other peoples, but recalls Israel’s particular mission: to be the first recipient of salvation and then to bring it to all nations. “Freely you have received, freely give”: this expression sums up the life of the believer. Everything we receive from God is, in fact, free. His grace cannot be bought or earned; it is a gift of love. Yet we often struggle to accept this gratuitousness and think we must “earn” God’s favour. Just as God gives freely, so too are we called to give freely. This means helping, serving, loving and forgiving without seeking rewards, recognition or personal gain. Indeed, Jesus invites his disciples to love even their enemies unconditionally and not to wait for others to deserve our help. Those who have experienced God’s free forgiveness are called in turn to become instruments of forgiveness and mercy. Finally, Jesus teaches trust: he chose apostles who were very different from one another and entrusted them with a great mission without demanding guarantees. So too today, God continues to call fragile people to collaborate in his work. Ultimately, we understand that the Kingdom of God is realised in spite of our frailties and, at times, our betrayals. It is also manifested through healing, compassion and, above all, in the victory over evil. Those who have received God’s love freely are called to give it to others with the same generosity, trust and mercy, in the certainty that God is the author of all things and we are merely instruments in his hands.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Solemnity of Corpus Christi [7 June 2026]

First reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (8:2–3, 14b–16)

The text calls on the people of Israel to remember their long journey through the desert following their exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. The forty years in the desert were marked by hunger, thirst, poverty, snakes, scorpions and loneliness. But the central point is not the suffering itself: it is God’s faithful presence in the midst of trials. God fed the people with manna; he brought water forth from the rock; he protected Israel during their journey; he concluded the Covenant on Mount Sinai. The trials of the desert are presented as a divine ‘pedagogy’: God educates his people as a father educates his son. Through fragility, Israel learns two truths: its own poverty and dependence, and at the same time God’s constant care. The fundamental message is that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that comes from God: his Word, his Spirit, his presence. The text also emphasises the duty of remembrance: ‘Remember’, ‘do not forget’. To remember means to remain faithful to one’s roots and to the Covenant. Forgetting God leads to idolatry and enslavement to other powers. When Israel settles in the Promised Land of Canaan, the danger will no longer be the desert, but prosperity and forgetfulness. For this reason, obedience to the commandments becomes essential. The final section offers a significant image: memory is like the roots of a tree; a people without memory dies spiritually; the future depends on fidelity to one’s roots. Finally, the text links everything to Jesus Christ, who in the desert echoes the words of Deuteronomy: ‘Man does not live by bread alone’. On the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the believer is invited to welcome God into their heart. The memory of a people (or a community, or a couple) is a bit like the roots of a tree: today we see the tree, we do not see the roots… yet it lives only thanks to them and owes everything to them, in a sense. Imagine a tree saying: ‘I am separating myself from my roots; they prevent me from moving, worse still, they prevent me from flying’. The rest of the story would be the death of the tree. In the truest sense of the word, the tree’s future lies in its roots. When Moses tells his people “Remember” or “do not forget”, it is as if he were saying to them “do not cut yourself off from your roots”, “your future lies in your faithfulness to your roots”. Moses does not look to the past out of sentiment; but it is precisely because he is entirely focused on the future that he is concerned with fidelity to one’s roots. He says something along the lines of: ‘If you want to still be standing tomorrow, do not forget today who you are and to whom you owe it.’ From century to century, Israel has built itself up by remaining faithful to its roots. Jesus, in turn, to resist the tempter, simply echoed the words of Deuteronomy: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Mt 4:4).

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 147/148 

Praise the Lord, Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! We must note this parallel: Zion and Jerusalem are one and the same. And, moreover, when we speak of Zion or Jerusalem here, we are referring not so much to the city as to its inhabitants—that is, ultimately, the people of Israel. The expression: ‘Praise the Lord, Jerusalem!’ can be easily dated: we are at the time of the return from the Babylonian exile, that is, at the end of the 6th century, when it was necessary to rebuild the city and restore the Temple. Without God’s help, none of this would have been possible: He has strengthened the bars of Jerusalem’s gates! In the previous psalm, God is called the ‘builder of Jerusalem’ and the ‘gatherer of the scattered of Israel’ (Ps 146/147 A,2). But this is not merely a task of architecture that God has accomplished: this return to the homeland is a true restoration of the people; a new life is about to begin—a life of peace and security: ‘He grants peace within your borders and satisfies you with the finest wheat’. In exile, the people ate the bread of tears and bitterness; the return to the homeland is a time of abundance. The second very strong emphasis of this psalm is the keen awareness of the privilege represented by the election of Israel: the Lord has not done this for any other nation; he has not made his laws known to them. We read in the Book of Deuteronomy: ‘You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: he has chosen you to be his people, his special possession among all the peoples of the earth (Dt 7:6; 10:15). This is a free and inexplicable choice of God, one that never ceases to amaze us and for which we never cease to give thanks. From a human perspective, this choice cannot be explained; the only explanation Moses found is that because he loved your forefathers, he chose their descendants and brought you out of Egypt by his presence and his great power (cf. Dt 4:37). It is therefore simply a love story with no other explanation. At first, Israel did not feel it was living in an exclusive Covenant with the God of Sinai and thought that other peoples had their own protective gods: Israel was not yet monotheistic, but ‘monolatrous’ (also known as ‘enotheistic’), that is, it worshipped a single God, the God of Sinai, who had delivered it from Egypt. It only truly became “monotheistic” during the Babylonian exile (in the 6th century BC). A new leap in faith then took place alongside the discovery of universalism: if the God of Sinai was the one and only God, then He was also the God of all peoples. However, this did not negate the election of Israel, as can be seen in certain texts of the prophet Isaiah: “You, Israel, my servant whom I have chosen, descendant of Abraham my friend… Fear not, for I am with you… I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, and uphold you with my victorious right hand” (Isa 41:8–10). Isaiah also helped his contemporaries understand that their election now took on a different form: that of a vocation to serve other peoples, to be witnesses of God among them. “I will make you a light to the nations, so that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Is 49:6).

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (10:16–17)

In this text, Paul frames the whole matter with two warnings: ‘Beloved, flee from idolatry’ (v. 14) ‘Do we wish to provoke the Lord to jealousy?’ (v. 22) In the Bible, God’s “jealousy” is always a warning against idolatry.   In Corinth, some Christians, converts from paganism, were tempted to continue taking part in the sacred feasts in the temples of idols, offering animal sacrifices. For Paul, there are no half-measures: either one enters into communion with the living God in the Eucharist, or one seeks another communion. One cannot partake “of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons”. Another practical question was whether a Christian could eat the meat from idolatrous sacrifices sold in the market. Paul replies that one may eat it because idols do not exist and therefore there is no sacred meat; nevertheless, one must avoid causing offence to those who are  weak in faith.

He then emphasises the Christian meal of the Eucharist, which is, in contrast, true communion with Christ. Paul highlights the significance of the Christian meal and asks: ‘Is not the cup of blessing a communion with the blood of Christ? Is not the bread we break a communion with the body of Christ?’ The Greek word is koinonia: communion, intimate participation, mutual belonging.  Christ himself, at the Last Supper, spoke of the ‘New Covenant in my blood’. And in the biblical Covenant there is mutual belonging: ‘You shall be my people and I shall be your God’. The entire Eucharistic Liturgy is the place where the Covenant is fulfilled.  The Eucharist is a meal of communion as in ancient cults, but the value of the sacrifice has changed. God no longer asks for the killing of animals, but for the gift of life: ‘You do not desire sacrifice and offering, [...] so I said: “Here I am”’ (Ps 39/40).   Christ offered his whole life. And, by participating in the Eucharist, we unite our lives to his to offer them to the Father. Paul dares to say: ‘The bread we break is communion with the body of Christ’, that is, we form one body with him, and for this reason we can live as he did. St Augustine sums it up: ‘You become what you receive; you receive what you are.’ By receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, we in turn become lives offered for the birth of a new humanity; an exclusive choice, for one cannot serve both God and idols, and, in the logic of the gift, 

the Christian sacrifice is to offer one’s own life united with that of Christ. We become bread broken for others; thus, in a single sentence: we understand that the Eucharist is the place where the transcendent God draws intimately near to us and transforms us into a gift for the world. 

From the Gospel according to John (6:51–58)

Here is a discourse that is hard to accept, yet it is the word of Life. After the discourse on the Bread of Life, many disciples abandon Jesus. His words are, humanly speaking, incomprehensible. Jesus then addresses the Twelve directly: ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ And Peter replies: ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ It is the paradox of faith: these words cannot be explained by strict logic, but only by living them, and the lesson is clear: it is not from books that one understands what the Eucharist is, but by participating in it and allowing oneself to be drawn into the mystery of Christ. The word ‘life’ recurs several times in this discourse: ‘The bread that I will give is my flesh, given for the life of the world’ and, as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews: ‘Entering the world, Christ says: “Behold, I come to do your will.” And God’s will is that the world may have life.  It is a free gift, as Isaiah had already announced: ‘All you who are thirsty, come to the water… buy without money, without payment’ (Is 55:1-3), because what gives us life is the gift of Christ’s life, that is, his sacrifice. The biblical teaching on sacrifice reveals a progressive conversion: from the idea of bloody sacrifices, including human ones, to the absolute prohibition of human sacrifice, leading to the acceptance of sacrifice as an offering of bread and wine (Melchizedek, Gen 14:18). The Songs of the Servant also help us understand that the true sacrifice is to give one’s life for others. And Jesus says that his life is given entirely for humanity. The bread that I will give is my flesh, given so that the world may have life. In the Eucharistic sacrifice, by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, Christ remains in us and we in him; in Jesus, therefore, we receive the very life of God: ‘Just as the Father, who has life, sent me and I live for the Father, so whoever eats me will live for me’. The essential conversion is to move from ‘performing the sacred’—that is, offering things to God—to learning to receive the Life that God gives us in Christ, so that we too may become life given to others. In short: the Eucharist cannot be explained but must be lived, for it is the gift of Christ’s life that draws us into Him, transforms us and enables us to give life for the world. A final note: the word ‘flesh’ that Jesus uses here is equivalent to ‘life’, and we can therefore understand that the Eucharist is his life given so that the world may have life. How? Through his passion, death and resurrection. Immersed in the Paschal Mystery through the Eucharist, each of us is called to welcome the life that God gives us so that we, in turn, may be the Eucharist, a gift of life for all.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity (year A)  [31 May 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (34:4–6, 8–9)

The text presents one of the most precious moments of biblical revelation: God speaks of himself and proclaims his name before Moses, who prostrates himself in recognition of the greatness of what he hears. God defines himself as ‘the Lord (YHWH), a God who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love and faithfulness. This name, already revealed in the burning bush, is the foundation of Israel’s faith. Even then, God had shown his face: he sees the misery of his people in Egypt, hears their cry, knows their sufferings and comes down to set them free, inspiring Moses with the necessary strength. This means that man is never alone in his trials: God is present, accompanying and sustaining him. The Jewish Passover commemorates this liberating intervention every year. In today’s text, however, a further step is taken: God does not merely feel compassion, but loves deeply. His ‘passing’ before Moses recalls the passage during the Exodus: whenever God passes by, he sets free. This second revelation is even more important because it frees man from false images of God. It is not man who has invented a good God: it is God himself who has revealed himself in this way, unexpectedly. Moses fully understands the meaning of ‘slow to anger’ and asks forgiveness for the people, aware of their unfaithfulness. Israel is described as a “stiff-necked people”, an image drawn from the agricultural yoke: just as animals resist the yoke, so the people struggle to walk in step with God in the covenant. Despite this, Moses trusts that God will continue to forgive and keep the people as his inheritance. Finally, God’s faithfulness (“truth”) remains the foundation of hope: He does not abandon His people nor forget the covenant. For this reason, Israel remains the chosen people and, as the New Testament also reminds us, God remains ever faithful, even when man is unfaithful.

Responsorial Psalm: Song of Daniel (3:52–56)

To understand the Book of Daniel, we can use a modern comparison: in the 1980s, during Soviet rule in Czechoslovakia, a young actress staged a play about Joan of Arc. On the surface, it spoke of 15th-century France, but between the lines the message was clear: like Joan, the Czech people too could resist oppression. Similarly, the Book of Daniel, written in the 2nd century BC during the persecution by the Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes, is a text of resistance. It tells stories set in an earlier era, under the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar, but in reality it speaks of the author’s contemporary situation. Its aim is to encourage the faithful to remain steadfast, even unto martyrdom. A central episode is that of the three young men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, condemned to be burned alive for refusing to worship a statue. Thrown into a blazing furnace, they are miraculously saved: the flames kill their executioners, whilst they walk unharmed through the fire, praising God. The greatest miracle, however, is their faith: they acknowledge the sins of the people and humbly entrust themselves to God’s mercy. In their song they proclaim: “Blessed are you, Lord, God of our fathers”. It is a reference to the covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Israel, to the divine promises and the history of salvation, but also to God’s continual forgiveness despite the people’s unfaithfulness. When speaking of God’s “Name”, God himself is referred to with respect. The reference to the “holy temple” reflects the historical context of persecution: even when worship is desecrated, it is affirmed that God alone is the true Lord. The images of the throne and the cherubim recall the Holy of Holies in the Temple, a sign of God’s presence among his people. This is a message of hope: even in the harshest trials, God is present and evil will not have the last word. The hymn thus becomes a song of trust and victory: despite violence and persecution, faith remains steadfast. This message of resilience and hope remains relevant even today.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (13:11–13)

The final sentence: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all”, is the formula with which the Eucharistic celebration begins, and this is no coincidence: St Paul concludes his Second Letter to the Corinthians in this way, summarising God’s entire plan. This expression, spoken by the celebrant in the name of God, indicates that God invites humanity to enter into his intimacy, that is, into the communion of love of the Trinity. “Grace”, “love” and “communion” express the same reality: the Trinitarian life of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The subjunctive verb “may be with you” does not indicate any doubt about God, who is always the source of forgiveness, blessing and presence, but rather points to human freedom: God continually offers his love, but man is free to accept or reject it. This clear expression of the Trinity is rare in the Bible and marks the fulfilment of revelation in Jesus Christ. From this spring Paul’s exhortations, beginning with joy: “Brothers and sisters, rejoice.” In the Bible, joy is linked to the experience of liberation, such as at the end of a war or the return from exile, when the people experience God’s salvation. These liberations that occur in history foreshadow the definitive joy promised by God, that of a new creation. Jesus himself speaks of this full and definitive joy at the end of his discourse at the Last Supper: “Take heart, I have overcome the world”, and promises a joy that no one can take away, even through trials. Paul’s second exhortation concerns unity and peace: “Be of one mind… live in peace”. Unity among believers is essential, for it is God’s witness to the world and echoes Jesus’ prayer: “May they be one.” Paul insists on one faith, one Lord, one baptism, one God and Father of all. This communion is also expressed in the liturgical gesture of the kiss of peace, already present in the early Christian communities. Ancient testimonies, such as those of Saint Justin and Saint Hippolytus, show how this gesture was an integral part of the celebration, a concrete sign of unity and brotherhood.

From the Gospel of John (3:16–18)

‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’: this sentence expresses the great transition from the Old to the New Testament. That God loves humanity was already known, and was Israel’s great discovery; the novelty lies in the gift of the Son for the salvation of all. God so loved the world… that whoever believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life. According to the Gospel of John, it is enough to believe to be saved: whoever receives Christ becomes a child of God and already possesses eternal life. This “eternal life” is the life of the Spirit received at Baptism: it is true salvation, that is, living in peace with oneself and with others, as brothers and sisters amongst men and children of God. To be saved, one need only turn to Jesus, allow oneself to be transformed by him, and pass from a heart of stone to a heart of flesh. In biblical language: “to lift one’s gaze towards him”. It is extraordinary news, if taken seriously, for in the face of the Crucified One the true face of God is revealed. In the face of the crucified Christ, who freely gives his life, humanity discovers the true face of God: not a domineering or vengeful God, but a God who is love and mercy. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father,” says Jesus. All that is required is faith: to believe in God who saves in order to be saved. In the Gospels, in fact, Jesus often repeats: “Your faith has saved you.” The evangelist John links this mystery to Zechariah’s prophecy: looking upon the one who has been pierced leads to conversion and purification. This vision also recurs in Revelation: all will see the one whom they have pierced. The expression ‘only Son’ indicates that Jesus is the fullness of grace and truth, the sole source of eternal life and the head of the new humanity. God’s plan is for all humanity to be united in Christ and to share in the life of the Trinity: this is salvation, true life, already present from this moment onwards. Eternal life is to know you, the one true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ: to know God means to recognise him as mercy and to enter into a profound relationship with him, in accordance with the meaning that ‘to know’ holds in St John. ‘Avoiding judgement’ means avoiding separation from God: it is enough to believe in his forgiveness. As in human relationships, if one believes in forgiveness, one can return and be reconciled; if one does not believe, one remains trapped in one’s own error. So it is with God. God offers salvation, but does not impose it, and man remains always free. Those who believe are saved; those who reject faith exclude themselves. This is shown in an extraordinary way by the good thief when he turns to Jesus, who is crucified alongside him. Despite having lived a life of sin, at the very last moment before dying he entrusts himself to Jesus and receives a surprising promise: ‘Today you will be with me in Paradise.’

+Giovanni D’Ercole