(Lk 14:15-24)

Jesus does not compare the Father's Kingdom to a solemn assembly, but to a great Supper!

However, the proposal of festive novelty is rejected. The self-sufficient and experienced have other commitments and interests...

After the destruction of the Temple, the government of the synagogues was taken over by the Pharisees, who were saved from disaster because their traditionalism had no explicit political-nationalist overtones.

In fact, they believed that the expectation of the Messiah had nothing to do with the struggle against Rome; in this they seemed in tune with the Christians.

But they constantly demanded from their followers the strict fulfilment of the rules that identified the traditional Jewish religion.

After the year 70, this demand led them to an increasingly obsessive condemnation of Jewish converts to the Lord Jesus - and at the end of the century to their expulsion from the synagogues.

The fundamentalist religious leaders thus ended up marginalising even socially the followers of the younger Messiah, guilty of neglecting the distinctions between the customs of Israel and those of other peoples.

In the communities of Lk the situation was less lacerating, but equally alive.

The converts to faith in Christ came for the most part from paganism, who despite differences in cultural background and class, lived here and there [without those purist ideological tares] the ideal of sharing and communion even of goods.

The invitation to take part in the Feast was initially addressed to the children of Israel, who still compared the Messianic times to a great Banquet, characterised by gratitude and (internal) fraternity.

But the difficulties in broadening the criteria of communion came precisely from converts from Judaism, who by long practice retained the custom of not sharing food with those far away; thus the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread.

Within the framework of their customs and the sacred norms attested in the Torah (Deut 20:5-7), the behaviour of those who refuse the invitation in the parable of the Banquet (vv.18-20) was legitimate from the point of view of recognised right - not friendship.

It is to accentuate the meaning of the gesture that the master of the feast orders the servants to gather precisely those who were socially excluded from the ancient religion because they were considered unclean: the pagans. Open to expectation.

Christ continues to draw a dividing line between those who advocate an untouchable order and ideals above human reality, and those who, being on the periphery, are always willing to participate in the Feast.

They are not the 'all concerned with ritual', manners, appearance; but with the life they spread.

They do not let themselves be conditioned by privileges, their things, and laws: they give without double-entry accounts, they accept with natural readiness; they rejoice in reality and not in the distinction between sacred and profane. They do not think they already have the answer, and do not end up being slaves to it.

Jesus' teaching invites us not to limit our affections and not to let our hearts be cluttered by customs, by particular or current mentalities, by legalistic blocks - or by 'many things'.

In the assembly of the children, it is not the well provided for [serious, busy people with no time to lose, with too many possessions and invitations to manage] but the petty people... who come to the fore... despite their meagre aptitudes.

All this, because characteristic of the Little and Pitocchios is the readiness to cross fences: that which makes them fit to grasp God's summons.

The distant - albeit in straits - fill the Father's house.

In society, the poor man is one of many, but the invitation to Mensa conveys to him a sense of values that do not suffocate his life of pettiness, and ties; indeed, the indigent often has a better understanding of divine-human things.

This ever more conscious resemblance to the Son of God is accentuated in the scarcity of 'adequate' means: scarcity that makes true, that induces others to reflect - remaining unremarkable, incapable of making lightning.

This intimate, luminous, transfiguring awareness pales and is extinguished in the vortex of legalisms, of cultural conventions.

It seems to fade in the dizzying multiplication of activities - they do not reform: they make us external and conditioned by the advantages of worldly-sacred, unfortunately monopolistic security.

An obligatory banquet would not be a Banquet... certainly not a Feast, a Gift to be cherished - confused with advantages or perfections [bad interpretation of stubborn observant circles].

This is why many prefer their particular purgatory to the Heaven on Earth that the Father offers.

Our solidarity is not a matter of sympathy, common interests and esprit de corps, but the result of an extended Calling, of one powerful Life circulating in all, respecting their freedom and reality - as well as their phases of change.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (nn.13-15, passim) according to the passage from Luke we must remain careful not to impoverish the life of Faith, turning it into a detached commitment to "cultural colonisation".

If this were the case, even the universal-Catholic horizon of a conviviality of differences would dissolve into an overly normalised, absolutely predictable, ultimately deserted invitation.

The engrossed or interested rejection of the Banquet would bring with it - as before our eyes - the "further disintegration" of "critical thinking", of action "for justice", of its "paths of integration".

Even ecclesial society can in fact run the risk of "distorting the great words", "risking impoverishment"; thus "reducing itself to the arrogance of the strongest" and to "merely ephemeral marketing recipes, which find in the destruction of the other the most effective resource".

But God's people cannot live in a parallel, disconnected, double world - as if the one Eternal worshipped was a patchwork of wiles, marketing and convenience.

To internalise and live the message:

What does the Eucharist convey in your church or group reality? What particular and special invitation does it communicate?

The Feast, the Robe

All called, but with what outfit? Without artifice

Mt 22:1-14 (1-21)

The "wedding garment" (vv.11-12) is a figure of the essential - the indispensable, even the precarious, without frills of refinement.

"Each one of you, therefore, who in the Church has faith in God has already taken part in the wedding feast, but cannot say that he has the wedding garment if he does not keep the grace of Charity" (Homilia 38:9: PL 76:1287). And this robe is symbolically woven of two woods, one at the top and the other at the bottom: love of God and love of neighbour (cf. ibid.,10: PL 76,1288)" (Gregory the Great; Pope Benedict, 9 October 2011).

The Kingdom of God announced by Jesus is different from the one imagined by the rabbis, whose doctrine could admit personal and civic disregard [e.g.: sellers in the temple, barren fig tree, objection to authority, murderous vine-dressers, etc.: Mt 21].

The Banquet preached by the Master is not a Garden of Eden set up for a future in the hereafter, which in the meantime - albeit in flashes - can endure inauthenticity. Rather, it is a direct thread.

His set canteen is the new condition into which the person who trusts his proposal to share is introduced.

There are those who feel satiated, because they believe they already possess enough for a life without too many problems - and so they adapt to any occasion, even a petty one.

This was the situation of the authorities, satisfied with the overabundant religious structure, which seemed to offer just social security, and certainty even before God.

Instead (as if to say): it is not enough to have one's name transcribed in the parish registers, and then present oneself in the rags of ancient life.

Today, the rebirth from the global crisis calls for fundamental options, for radical changes in mentality and reality.

There is a real need to renew 'clothing', that is, to set choices on new values. 

It is appropriate to become plastic again, to remodel ourselves on the Person of Christ, not to reject the changes that stimulate - to the point of building a common life project, and rebuild the world around us.

All are called (v.14), but some have not kept the white garment of Baptism. He has totally changed his outfit, unfortunately - despite in some cases presiding over and defending the institution.

Jesus resumes speaking to the leaders and offends them without half-measures, because he does not compare the Father's kingdom to a liturgical assembly of theirs, those well set up, of great authority, full of artifice... but to a wedding feast, without sacred banners!

In that festive simplicity, in the immediate and joyful frankness of a wedding, there is a human reality characterising the divine condition: the spontaneous Joy of frank relationships, face to face - now lost in the formalisms of habituated religion.

The proposal of festive novelty is, however, rejected. The self-sufficient and experienced (who know better) worship another master: self-interest.

Opportunism cannot be an ingredient of the Sacred: self-interest turns people inward, closes their gaze, makes them one-sided and gloomy.

It consigns the Church to entanglements.

Jesus realised: all that the cunning and messy people were doing was a function of their own profit. In fact they thought of the Kingdom in an elective, already selected (and commercial, usual) way.

As with the labourers of the last hour [Matthew 20:1-16] the only currency for all is Christ himself. But the veterans, who consider themselves first in their class by right, do not care about people's happiness.

So the fate of the prophets was nothing more than the careless outcome of despicable calculations [in Luke 14:18-20 "ordinary" daily duties] which were, however, leading the people to destruction (v.7).

The background of the parable is the friction between converted Jews and converted Gentiles.

Considering themselves chosen - "elect" (v.14) - the former refused to break the Bread, share and put themselves on an equal footing with the latter.

Interestingly, however, it was precisely the faithful servants, push come to shove, who stood out in reverse: they were already recognisable because under any circumstances they were prepared to enter the Banquet 'last'.

In short, the space opened by the self-exclusion of the people called first would not be able to put an 'end' to the efforts of those who have always fought for life and authenticity.

Fruitful trees - Jesus argued, and we see this everywhere today - do not like to prevaricate: they prefer to produce, without opportunist claims or envy.

They take risks, and occupy only the last place; to be close to the uncertain, and encourage them. 

So in v.9 Mt does not speak of going to the crossroads [CEI translation] but to the outlets of the streets [Greek text].

Pope Francis would say: to the existential peripheries, where life is not taken for granted, but always pulsates new. There where one cannot be indifferent.

The Greek term indicates the end of the (reassuring) urban roads and the beginning of the careless and risky paths.

In the Semitic mentality, they were the border of pure territory and the threshold of precarious, contaminated places.

Not only: God's offer of love first brings together the 'wicked' ['wicked': v.10 Greek text] to emphasise that Heaven is not at points.

It is available to the needy, to those who recognise themselves as such.

But everyone can be wicked on the outside, not on the inside: that is, watchful to our brother and diligent.

We are called to abandon neglect and carelessness.

In order not to confuse the Face of God and ruin the lives of the most motivated, a change of mentality is needed within the Church.

A decisive substitution of principles and conveniences, overthrowing every pyramid ideology, of self-interest and power.

By Faith that incorporates us unconditionally to the Bridegroom, the clean and sumptuous dress is always provided by the Master of the House.

But wearing it is the result of a conscious choice, made by us: wanting to "give birth to a new world, where we are all brothers, where there is room for every discarded person" [Fratelli Tutti, no. 278].

That is to say, we will continue to undergo the journey into the parallel world - sometimes even communal - where everything is disconnected and double: the result of bad indoctrination, corrupt options and diabolical motives.

As if the only God worshipped is marketing and convenience.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you consider diabolical and imagine could lead you away from the spiritual path?Do you think of God in a serious way or do you associate him with the joy of a wedding party?

Return to God the image of true humanity. What acronym?

(Mt 22:15-21)

After the expulsion of the sellers from the Temple, the objection on authority, and the parables of the two sons, the murderous vinedressers, and the rejected banquet (all referring to the elite), here is another clash between Jesus and the political and religious leaders - the latter placed behind the scenes.

Jesus (in his) systematically dismantles the traps set by the leaders and experts.

With tried and tested duplicity, they approach Him trying to stroke their self-love (v.16: situations that often occur even to critical witnesses).

The interest of the cunning, however, clashes with the attention of Christ, who is all for the real good of people and respect for the intelligence of things - not for the eagerness of approval or opportunism.

Right in the Temple (Mt 21:23) - the eminent Abode of the one Lord God - these gendarmes provoke the new Rabbi about paying taxes to the Romans (22:17).

We know what was at stake: the accusation of not being a prophet according to divine Right, or (vice versa) that of collaborationism with the occupiers.

The Master does not allow himself to be fooled by the ostentation of closeness to the God of Israel - false because sought outside - and he easily plays them.

In the Temple of Jerusalem, it was forbidden to carry Roman coins, which depicted imperial profiles and insignia (contrary to the Commandment 'Thou shalt not make thyself any image').

He asked for them, however, because indeed he had none. But the very paladins hand him one.... The scene borders on the ridiculous.

Drawing the forbidden coin from the pouch concealed under the cloak, the very leaders reveal their true God: self-interest (well hidden under devout and ostentatious manners, which only act as a screen).

Christ invites us not to allow ourselves to be flattered by the ostentatious duplicity of insignia: what is important is not to deceive people by using pious forms as theatrical masks (v.18 Greek text).

Purity fanatics only live the epidermic angle; and they rely on it: they not infrequently hide well the very material passions they disdain. It does not work with Christ.

Each one is called upon to return to his true lord the indelible image and likeness engraved on him. So let the coin be given back to its master.Woman and man - creatures in whom the image and likeness of God is imprinted - are to return themselves in authenticity, to the Creator (v.21) who dwells in their essence as persons.

Humanity is sealed by much more intimate and natural belonging than those of convenience.

The horizon of friendship to which Jesus introduces us is the whole of humanity:  indeed, he wants to be for everyone the Good Shepherd who lays down his own life (cf. Jn 10: 11), and he stresses this strongly in the discourse on the Good Shepherd who came to reunite everyone, not only the Chosen People but all the dispersed children of God. 

Our own solicitude, therefore, must be universal. We should certainly first take care of those who, like us, believe and live with the Church - it is very important, even in this dimension of universality, that we first see to those faithful who live their "being Church" every day with humility and love -, and yet we must not tire of going out, as the Lord asks us, "to the highways and hedges" (Lk 14: 23) to invite to the banquet that God has prepared those who are not yet acquainted with him or have perhaps preferred not to know him.

[Pope Benedict, address to the CEI, 18 May 2006]

Today more than in the past, the Church's social doctrine must be open to an international outlook, in line with the Second Vatican Council,73 the most recent Encyclicals,74 and particularly in line with the Encyclical which we are commemorating.75 It will not be superfluous therefore to reexamine and further clarify in this light the characteristic themes and guidelines dealt with by the Magisterium in recent years. 

Here I would like to indicate one of them: the option or love of preference for the poor. This is an option, or a special form of primacy in the exercise of Christian charity, to which the whole tradition of the Church bears witness. It affects the life of each Christian inasmuch as he or she seeks to imitate the life of Christ, but it applies equally to our social responsibilities and hence to our manner of living, and to the logical decisions to be made concerning the ownership and use of goods. 

Today, furthermore, given the worldwide dimension which the social question has assumed,76 this love of preference for the poor, and the decisions which it inspires in us, cannot but embrace the immense multitudes of the hungry, the needy, the homeless, those without medical care and, above all, those without hope of a better future. It is impossible not to take account of the existence of these realities. To ignore them would mean becoming like the "rich man" who pretended not to know the beggar Lazarus lying at his gate (cf. Lk 16:19-31).77

Our daily life as well as our decisions in the political and economic fields must be marked by these realities. Likewise the leaders of nations and the heads of international bodies, while they are obliged always to keep in mind the true human dimension as a priority in their development plans, should not forget to give precedence to the phenomenon of growing poverty. Unfortunately, instead of becoming fewer the poor are becoming more numerous, not only in less developed countries but-and this seems no less scandalous-in the more developed ones too. 

It is necessary to state once more the characteristic principle of Christian social doctrine: the goods of this world are originally meant for all.78 The right to private property is valid and necessary, but it does not nullify the value of this principle. Private property, in fact, is under a "social mortgage,"79 which means that it has an intrinsically social function, based upon and justified precisely by the principle of the universal destination of goods. Likewise, in this concern for the poor, one must not overlook that special form of poverty which consists in being deprived of fundamental human rights, in particular the right to religious freedom and also the right to freedom of economic initiative.

[Sollicitudo rei socialis n.42]

(Lk 14:12-14)

Inviting the excluded, without a spirit of interest: the Christian community is open to everyone, especially those who have nothing to offer in return.

The Church cannot be complicit with those who turn the world into a business.

And are we really today finally learning to invite for free, not in an even more interested and mercantile way?

We are well aware that the interweaving of the computational circuits behind our actions is astounding, almost as complex as the very complicated computer circuits.

And someone is also looking for sacralization:

Before exposing ourselves in a work, we weigh with incredible rapidity all the possible relapses, the reactions useful or harmful to our interests.

Even during the course of social action, we recalibrate any changes that produce the desired effect, and at the same time the hoped compensation.

If this doesn’t come, surely we imagine that there must have been a (mechanical) fault somewhere.

If we are not careful, much of our existence is transformed into a cybernetic of interest.

It also happens with God.

Instead, it is Love that conquers the world.

It is the unconditional gift that shakes, moves, conquers; it preludes and reflects the Mystery.

In the transformation of one’s own goods into Encounter, Relationship, intimate Life and of others, the source of Joy gushes forth.

Gaiety of completeness of being, Life of the Trinity itself: different Happiness, without due or expected returns; prelude to Resurrection.

A divine existence, not behind the clouds or at the end of history, but from now on.

No reciprocation is really worth such boundless and real vertigo.

Thus the type of participants in the breaking of Bread in churches - today of an increasingly varied mentality - describes the essence of God.

The ‘polyhedron’ becomes an icon and attribute of the tolerant mercy of the Eternal.

But it is not an external or paternalistic patch; nor is it configured as a rescue of the situation [or remorse of conscience].

The condition of sin does not nullify the plan of salvation. Rather, it emphasizes the personal Exodus and the passion of things.

Different faces and circumstances become sacraments of Grace, Love so open that no human narrowness can close.

Even a non-one-way personal formation is well recalled by the thousand unusual presences of a multipolar world [as an intimate and concrete appeal].

In this way, every heterogeneous aspect is now finally appreciated as an added value, instead of being considered a “carnal” or “impurity” expression.

In short, our attitude as sisters and brothers imitates divine magnanimity: we welcome willingly and freely those who are 'different' and those without great energy or appeal.

Not because we are or they are 'good', but so that we all become good. And by being close, together, in an unforeseen, therefore vital way; overeminent one.

To internalize and live the message:

What does not elevate your relationships? and the complete sense of you?

[Monday 31st wk. in O.T.  November 3, 2025]

Among the many gifts that we buy and receive, let us not forget the true gift: to give each other something of ourselves, to give each other something of our time, to open our time to God. In this way anxiety disappears, joy is born, and the feast is created. During the festive meals of these days let us remember the Lord’s words: "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite those who will invite you in return, but invite those whom no one invites and who are not able to invite you" (cf. Lk 14:12-14). This also means: when you give gifts for Christmas, do not give only to those who will give to you in return, but give to those who receive from no one and who cannot give you anything back. This is what God has done: he invites us to his wedding feast, something which we cannot reciprocate, but can only receive with joy. Let us imitate him! Let us love God and, starting from him, let us also love man, so that, starting from man, we can then rediscover God in a new way!

[Pope Benedict, homily 24 December 2006]

12. Is Justice Enough? 

It is not difficult to see that in the modern world the sense of justice has been reawakening on a vast scale; and without doubt this emphasizes that which goes against justice in relationships between individuals, social groups and "classes," between individual peoples and states, and finally between whole political systems, indeed between what are called "worlds." This deep and varied trend, at the basis of which the contemporary human conscience has placed justice, gives proof of the ethical character of the tensions and struggles pervading the world. 

The Church shares with the people of our time this profound and ardent desire for a life which is just in every aspect, nor does she fail to examine the various aspects of the sort of justice that the life of people and society demands. This is confirmed by the field of Catholic social doctrine, greatly developed in the course of the last century. On the lines of this teaching proceed the education and formation of human consciences in the spirit of justice, and also individual undertakings, especially in the sphere of the apostolate of the laity, which are developing in precisely this spirit. 

And yet, it would be difficult not to notice that very often programs which start from the idea of justice and which ought to assist its fulfillment among individuals, groups and human societies, in practice suffer from distortions. Although they continue to appeal to the idea of justice, nevertheless experience shows that other negative forces have gained the upper hand over justice, such as spite, hatred and even cruelty. In such cases, the desire to annihilate the enemy, limit his freedom, or even force him into total dependence, becomes the fundamental motive for action; and this contrasts with the essence of justice, which by its nature tends to establish equality and harmony between the parties in conflict. This kind of abuse of the idea of justice and the practical distortion of it show how far human action can deviate from justice itself, even when it is being undertaken in the name of justice. Not in vain did Christ challenge His listeners, faithful to the doctrine of the Old Testament, for their attitude which was manifested in the words: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."111 This was the form of distortion of justice at that time; and today's forms continue to be modeled on it. It is obvious, in fact, that in the name of an alleged justice (for example, historical justice or class justice) the neighbor is sometimes destroyed, killed, deprived of liberty or stripped of fundamental human rights. The experience of the past and of our own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it can even lead to the negation and destruction of itself, if that deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life in its various dimensions. It has been precisely historical experience that, among other things, has led to the formulation of the saying: summum ius, summa iniuria. This statement does not detract from the value of justice and does not minimize the significance of the order that is based upon it; it only indicates, under another aspect, the need to draw from the powers of the spirit which condition the very order of justice, powers which are still more profound. 

The Church, having before her eyes the picture of the generation to which we belong, shares the uneasiness of so many of the people of our time. Moreover, one cannot fail to be worried by the decline of many fundamental values, which constitute an unquestionable good not only for Christian morality but simply for human morality, for moral culture: these values include respect for human life from the moment of conception, respect for marriage in its indissoluble unity, and respect for the stability of the family. Moral permissiveness strikes especially at this most sensitive sphere of life and society. Hand in hand with this go the crisis of truth in human relationships, lack of responsibility for what one says, the purely utilitarian relationship between individual and individual, the loss of a sense of the authentic common good and the ease with which this good is alienated. Finally, there is the "desacralization" that often turns into "dehumanization": the individual and the society for whom nothing is "sacred" suffer moral decay, in spite of appearances.

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

For salvation there is 'one ticket in'. But with a few caveats. First of all, it is free; and then the holders will surely be women and men who are 'in need of care and healing in body and soul'. It is easy to imagine that in the first places are 'sinners, the poor and the sick', the so-called 'last ones' in short. Celebrating Mass at Santa Marta on Tuesday, 7 November, Pope Francis revived the Gospel image - taken from the passage in Luke (14:15-24) - of the banquet to which the master of the house invites "the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame" after the refusal of the rich who do not understand the value of the gratuitousness of salvation.

"The Gospel texts we have heard this week, these last days, are framed in a banquet," Francis was quick to point out. It is "the Lord who goes to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to dine and there he is rebuked because he does not do his ablutions". Then, the Pope continued, "during the banquet the Lord advises us not to seek the first places because there is the danger that one who is more important will come and the host will say, 'Give way to this one, move over!' That would be a disgrace."

"The passage continues," said the Pontiff, "with the advice the Lord gives to those who are to be invited to a banquet at home". And he points precisely to "those who cannot give you reciprocation, that is, those who have nothing to give you in return". Here is "the gratuitousness of the banquet". So "when he had finished explaining this, one of the diners - this is today's passage - said to Jesus, 'Blessed is he who takes food in the kingdom of God!'" The Lord "answered him with a parable, without explanation, of this man who gave a great dinner and made many guests". But "the first guests did not want to go to dinner, they cared neither about the dinner nor about the people who were there, nor about the Lord who was inviting them: they cared about other things".

And in fact one after the other they began to apologise, So, the Pope pointed out, 'the first one said to him: "I bought a field"; the other: "I bought five pairs of oxen"; another: "I got married"; but each had his own interest and this interest was greater than the invitation'. The fact is, said Francis, that 'these were attached to the interest: what can I gain? So to a free invitation the answer is: 'I don't care, maybe another day, I'm so busy, I can't go'. "Busy" but for his own "interests: busy like that man who wanted, after the harvest of grain, to make stores to enlarge his possessions. Poor man, he died that night".

These people are attached "to interest to such an extent that" they fall into "a slavery of the spirit" and "are incapable of understanding the gratuitousness of the invitation". But "if one does not understand the gratuitousness of God's invitation, one understands nothing," the Pope warned. God's initiative, in fact, "is always gratuitous: what do you have to pay to go to this banquet? The entrance ticket is to be sick, is to be poor, is to be a sinner". Precisely this 'is the ticket of entry: to be needy both in body and soul'. And 'by need', Francis reiterated, is meant 'needing care, needing healing, needing love'.

"Here," the Pontiff explained, "we see the two attitudes". God's "is always gratuitous: to save God does not charge anything, he is free". And also, Francis added, "we say the word, somewhat abstractly, 'universal'", in the sense that to the servant "the 'angry' master" says: "Go out immediately to the squares, to the streets of the city and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame". In Matthew's other version, the master says: "good and bad: all, everyone", because "God's gratuitousness has no limits: everyone, he receives everyone".

"Instead, those who have their own interest," the Pope continued, "do not understand gratuitousness. They are like the son who stayed by his father's side when the youngest left and then, after a long time, he came back poor and the father makes feast and this one does not want to enter that feast, he does not want to enter that feast because he does not understand: "He spent all the money, he spent the inheritance, with the vices, with the sins, you make him feast? And I who am a Catholic, practical, I go to mass every Sunday, I fulfil things, nothing to me?".

The fact is that 'he does not understand the gratuitousness of salvation, he thinks that salvation is the fruit of "I pay and you save me": I pay with this, with this'. Instead "no, salvation is gratuitous". And "if you do not enter into this dynamic of gratuitousness you understand nothing".

Salvation in fact, Francis affirmed, "is a gift from God to which one responds with another gift, the gift of my heart". However, there are those 'who have other interests, when they hear about the gifts: "Yes, it is true, yes, but gifts must be given". And they immediately think: 'Here, I will give this gift and he will give me another one tomorrow and the day after'". Thus there is "always reciprocation".

Instead "the Lord asks nothing in return: only love, faithfulness, as he is love and he is faithful". Because "salvation is not bought, one simply enters the banquet: 'Blessed is he who takes food in the kingdom of God!'". And 'this is salvation'.

In fact, the Pope confided, "I ask myself: what do these people who are unwilling to come to this banquet feel? They feel secure, they feel safe, they feel saved in their own way outside the banquet". And 'they have lost the sense of gratuitousness, they have lost the sense of love and they have lost something greater and more beautiful still, and this is very bad: they have lost the capacity to feel loved'. And, he added, 'when you lose - I am not saying the capacity to love, because that can be recovered - the capacity to feel loved, there is no hope: you have lost everything'.

Moreover, the Pontiff concluded, all this 'makes us think of the words written at the door of Dante's inferno "Leave hope": you have lost everything'. On our part, we must instead look at the master of the house who wants his house to be filled: 'he is so loving that in his gratuitousness he wants to fill the house'. And so "we ask the Lord to save us from losing the capacity to feel loved".

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 08/11/2017]

XXX Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [26 October 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Another lesson on prayer from Jesus in the Gospel, and what a lesson! 

   First Reading from the Book of Sirach (35:15b-17, 20-22a)

 'God does not judge by appearances' (Sir 35) The book of Sirach, written by Ben Sira around 180 BC in Jerusalem, was born in a time of peace and cultural openness under Greek rule. However, this apparent serenity hides a risk: contact between Jewish and Greek culture threatens the purity of the faith, and Ben Sira intends to transmit the religious heritage of Israel in its integrity. The Jewish faith, in fact, is not a theory, but an experience of covenant with the living God, discovered progressively through his works. God is not a human idea, but a surprising revelation, because 'God is God and not a man' (Hos 11:9). The central text affirms that God does not judge according to appearances: while men look at the outside, God looks at the heart. He hears the prayer of the poor, the oppressed, the orphan and the widow, and – in a wonderful image – 'the widow's tears run down God's cheeks', a sign of his mercy that vibrates with compassion. Ben Sira teaches that true prayer arises from precariousness: when man discovers himself to be poor and without support, his heart truly opens to God. Precarity and prayer are of the same family: only those who recognise their weakness pray sincerely. Finally, the sage warns that it is not outward sacrifices that please God, but a pure heart disposed to do good: What pleases the Lord above all is that we keep away from evil. The Lord is a just judge, who does not show partiality, but looks at the truth of the heart. In summary, Ben Sira reminds us that God does not judge by appearances but by the heart, that authentic prayer arises from poverty, and that divine mercy is manifested in his compassionate closeness to the little ones and the humble.

Responsorial Psalm (33/34:2-3, 16, 18, 19, 23)

 Here is another alphabetical psalm, i.e., each verse follows the order of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. This indicates that true wisdom consists in trusting in God in everything, from A to Z. The text echoes the first reading from Sirach, which encouraged the Jews of the second century to maintain the purity of their faith in the face of the seductions of Greek culture. The central theme is the discovery of a God who is close to human beings, especially those who suffer: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted." This is one of the greatest revelations of the Bible: God is not a distant or jealous being, but a Father who loves and shares in human suffering. Ben Sira poetically said that "our tears flow down God's cheeks": an image of his tender and compassionate mercy. This revelation is rooted in the journey of Israel. In the time of Moses, pagan peoples imagined rival and envious gods. Genesis corrects this view, showing that suspicion of God is a poison, symbolised by the serpent. Through the prophets, Israel gradually came to understand that God is a Father who accompanies, liberates and consoles, the 'God-with-us' (Emmanuel). The burning bush (Ex 3) is the foundation of this faith: 'I have seen the misery of my people, I have heard their cry, I know their sufferings'. Here God reveals himself as the One who sees, listens and acts. He does not remain a spectator, but inspires Moses and his children with the strength to liberate, transforming suffering into hope and commitment. The psalm reflects this experience: after undergoing trials, the people proclaim their praise: "I will bless the Lord at all times" because they have experienced a God who listens, liberates, watches over, saves and redeems. The name "YHWH," the "Lord," indicates precisely the constant presence of God alongside his people. Finally, the text teaches that in times of trial it is not only permissible but necessary to cry out to God: He is attentive to our cry and responds, not always by eliminating suffering, but by making himself present, reawakening trust, and giving us the strength to face evil. In summary, the psalm and the reflection that accompanies it give us three certainties: God is close to those who suffer and hears the cry of the poor. His presence does not take away the pain, but illuminates it and transforms it into hope. True faith comes from trust in this God who sees, hears, frees and accompanies man at all times.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to Timothy (4:6-8, 16-18)

 "The good fight" (2 Tim 4:6-18). The text presents St Paul's last spiritual testament, written while he was in prison in Rome, aware that he would soon be executed. The letters to Timothy, although perhaps composed or completed by a disciple, contain his authentic words of farewell, imbued with faith and serenity. Paul describes his imminent death with the Greek verb analuein, which means 'to untie the ropes', 'to weigh anchor', 'to dismantle the tent': images that evoke the departure for a new journey, the one towards eternity. Looking back, the apostle takes stock of his life using the sporting metaphor of running and fighting: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." Like an athlete who never gives up, Paul has reached the finish line and knows that he will receive the "crown of righteousness," the reward promised to all the faithful. He does not boast about himself, because this crown is not a personal privilege, but a gift offered to all those who have lovingly desired the manifestation of Christ. The 'just judge', God, does not look at appearances but at the heart — as Sirach taught — and will give glory not only to Paul, but to all those who live in the hope of the Lord's coming. The apostle's life was a constant race towards the glorious manifestation of Christ, the horizon of his faith and his service. He recognises that the strength to persevere does not come from him, but from God himself: 'The Lord gave me strength, so that I might fulfil the proclamation of the gospel and all nations might hear it'. This divine strength sustained his mission, enabling him to proclaim Christ until the end. Paul explains that Christian life is not a competition, but a shared race, in which each person is called to run at their own pace, with the same ardent desire for the coming of Christ. In his letter to Titus, he defined Christians as those who “wait for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ” — words that the liturgy repeats every day at Mass. In his hour of trial, Paul also confesses the loneliness of the apostle: The first time I made my defence, no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be held against them (v. 16) . Like Jesus on the cross and Stephen at the moment of his stoning, he forgives and transforms abandonment into an experience of intimate communion with the Lord, who becomes his only strength and consolation. Paul is the poor man of whom Ben Sira speaks, the one whom God listens to and consoles, the one whose tears flow down God's cheeks. His final words reveal the hope that overcomes death: "So I was delivered from the lion's mouth. The Lord will deliver me from all evil and bring me safely into heaven, and save me in his kingdom" (vv. 17-18). He does not speak of physical deliverance - he knows that death is imminent - but of spiritual deliverance from the greatest danger: losing faith, ceasing to fight. The Lord has kept him faithful and given him perseverance until the end. For Paul, death is not defeat, but a passage to glory. It is the birth into true life, the entrance into the Kingdom where he will sing forever: 'To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.'

In summary: The text presents Paul as a model of the believer who is faithful to the end. He experiences death as a departure towards God, not as an end. He looks at life as a race sustained by grace. He recognises that strength and perseverance come from the Lord. He understands that the reward is promised to all who desire the coming of Christ. He forgives those who abandon him and finds God's presence in solitude and weakness. He sees death as a passage into the glory of the Kingdom. Paul's "good fight" thus becomes the struggle of every Christian: to remain faithful in trials, to the point of running the last stretch with our gaze fixed on Christ, the source of strength, peace and hope.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (18:9-14)

A small preliminary observation before entering into the text: Luke clearly tells us that this is a parable... so we must not imagine that all the Pharisees or all the tax collectors of Jesus' time were like those described here. No Pharisee or tax collector perfectly matched this portrait: Jesus actually presents us with two very typical and simplified inner attitudes to highlight the moral of the story. He wants us to reflect on our own attitude, because we will probably recognise ourselves now in one, now in the other, depending on the day. Let us move on to the parable: last Sunday, Luke already offered us a teaching on prayer; the parable of the widow and the unjust judge taught us to pray without ever becoming discouraged. Today, however, it is a tax collector who is offered as an example. What relationship, one might ask, can there be between a poor widow and a rich tax collector? It is certainly not the bank account that is at issue, but the disposition of the heart. The widow is poor and forced to humble herself before a judge who ignores her; the tax collector, perhaps wealthy, bears the burden of a bad reputation, which is another form of poverty. Tax collectors were unpopular, and often not without reason: they lived in a period of Roman occupation and worked in the service of the occupiers. They were considered 'collaborators'. In addition, they dealt with a sensitive issue in every age: taxes. Rome set the amount due, and the tax collectors advanced it, then received full powers to recover it from their fellow citizens... often with a large profit margin. When Zacchaeus promises Jesus to repay four times as much to those he has defrauded, the suspicion is confirmed. Therefore, when the tax collector in the parable does not dare to raise his eyes to heaven and beats his breast saying, 'O God, have mercy on me, a sinner', perhaps he is only telling the plain truth. Being true before God, recognising one's own fragility: this is true prayer. It is this sincerity that makes him 'righteous' on his return home, says Jesus. The Pharisees, on the other hand, enjoyed an excellent reputation: their scrupulous fidelity to the Law, fasting twice a week (more than the Law required!), regular almsgiving, all expressed their desire to please God. And everything the Pharisee says in his prayer is true: he invents nothing. But, in reality, he does not pray. He contemplates himself. He looks at himself with complacency: he needs nothing, asks for nothing. He takes stock of his merits — and he has many! — but God does not think in terms of merit: his love is free, and all he asks is that we trust him. Let us imagine a journalist at the exit of the Temple interviewing the two men: Sir, what did you expect from God when you entered the Temple? Yes, I expected something. And did you receive it? Yes, and even more. And you, Mr Pharisee? No, I received nothing... A moment of silence, then he adds: But I didn't expect anything, after all. The concluding sentence of the parable sums it all up: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." Jesus does not want to present God as a moral accountant who distributes rewards and punishments. He states a profound truth: those who exalt themselves, that is, those who believe themselves to be greater than they are, like the Pharisee, close their hearts and look down on others. But those who believe themselves to be superior lose the richness of others and isolate themselves from God, who never forces the door of the heart. We remain as we were, with our human 'righteousness', so different from the divine. On the contrary, those who humble themselves, who recognise themselves as small and poor, see superiority in others and can draw on their wealth. As St Paul says: 'Consider others superior to yourselves.' And this is true: every person we meet has something we do not have. This perspective opens the heart and allows God to fill us with his gift. It is not a question of an inferiority complex, but of the truth of the heart. It is precisely when we recognise that we are not 'brilliant' that the great adventure with God can begin. Ultimately, this parable is a magnificent illustration of the first beatitude: 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven'.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole