Our God is the God of proximity, he is a God who is close, who walks with his people. That image in the desert, in Exodus: the cloud and the pillar of fire to protect the people: he walks with his people. He is not a God who leaves the prescriptions written down and says, 'Go ahead'. He makes the prescriptions, he writes them with his own hand on stone, he gives them to Moses, he gives them to Moses, but he does not leave the prescriptions and go: he walks, he is near. "What nation has a God so near?" It is closeness. Ours is a God of closeness.

And man's first response, in the first pages of the Bible, are two attitudes of non-neighbourliness. Our response is always to turn away, we turn away from God. He comes near and we turn away. Those two first pages. Adam's first attitude with his wife is to hide: they hide from God's closeness, they are ashamed, because they have sinned, and sin leads us to hide, to not want closeness (cf. Gen 3:8-10). And many times, [it leads] to a theology designed only on a judge God; and for this I hide, I am afraid. The second attitude, human, before the proposal of this closeness of God is to kill. To kill one's brother. "I am not my brother's keeper" (cf. Gen 4:9).

Two attitudes that wipe out all closeness. Man refuses God's closeness, he wants to be master of relationships, and closeness always brings with it some weakness. The 'near God' becomes weak, and the closer he gets, the weaker he seems. When he comes to us, to dwell with us, he makes himself man, one of us: he makes himself weak and brings weakness to the point of death and the cruellest death, the death of murderers, the death of the greatest sinners. Proximity humbles God. He humbles himself to be with us, to walk with us, to help us.

The 'near God' speaks to us of humility. He is not a 'great God', no. He is near. He is at home. And we see this in Jesus, God made man, close even unto death. With his disciples: he accompanies them, he teaches them, he corrects them with love... Let us think, for example, of Jesus' closeness to the distressed disciples of Emmaus: they were distressed, they were defeated, and he slowly approached them, to make them understand the message of life, of resurrection (cf. Lk 24:13-32).

Our God is near and asks us to be close, to each other, not to turn away from each other. And in this moment of crisis due to the pandemic we are experiencing, this closeness asks us to manifest it more, to show it more. We cannot, perhaps, get physically close because of the fear of contagion, but we can awaken in us an attitude of closeness among ourselves: with prayer, with help, so many ways of closeness. And why must we be close to one another? Because our God is close, he wanted to accompany us in life. He is the God of proximity. That is why we are not isolated people: we are close, because the inheritance we have received from the Lord is proximity, that is, the gesture of closeness.

Let us ask the Lord for the grace to be close, one to another; not to hide from one another; not to wash our hands, as Cain did, of another's problem, no. Neighbours. Proximity. Proximity. "For what great nation has the gods so close to it, as the Lord, our God, is close to us whenever we call upon Him?"

[Pope Francis, St Marta homily 18 March 2020]

Healing in personal Faith

(Mt 9:18-26)

In the communities of Mt, converted Jews were accused (by the ancient religion’s proponents) of being perjured of fathers’ customs, and of the great Moses’ Tradition. No longer «sons of the precept».

On the other hand, there was no lack of faithful preachers who announced to them that they were not «fall asleep» of the Law (v.24), but the only awake, living persons of its Spirit (vv.25-26). The real grown-ups.

In the Gospel passage the icons of this teaching are drawn from what believers in Christ were experiencing before their eyes. In particular: how should contain oneself when the "different" was knocking on the front door of the house and assemblies?

According to the beliefs of the ancient East, blood and death were icons of impurity and factors of social exclusion. The removal from the community [synagogue of the healthy and pure] was a religious obligation.

And those who were deemed to be affected by even physical imperfection could not approach the threshold of assemblies, of respectable families, or civil life - nor even those who had any relationship with them.

But how does God behave with those who are in needs? Does He prioritize prescribed duties, procedures, purification rites? Does it really humiliate the needy of understanding? And with a whole long line of disciplines, penances or public checks?

No, the Lord heals us by personal Faith. Thus He annihilates the power of death and the obsessive control of the elders of the Temple - legalists, in all other commitments and calculations busy.

With His shocking proposal Jesus cures the mortal disease of the whole people: both the spiritual «daughter» of the leaders [for this reason, ‘nation’ already perished at the beginning] and those considered unclean.

All still (if you want) «adolescents» of religiosity, that is, unable to a full life, or never becomed autonomous, albeit on the threshold of being able to be.

In the moment of ‘healing’ the «crowd» and the apostles - if ineffective and deviant - must disappear: only Faith applies (v.22), that is, the you-for-you with the Christ, who brings God among men and us in the heart of the Father.

For this reason it is licit to leave out prescriptions and surprise Him on personal initiative (vv.20-21) - while according to the official teachers Jesus should look and go elsewhere (v.22).

Only by unrepeatable Faith - personal and without torments - do we become «sons» (v.22) that is, pure members of the authentic Church which unites the creature to the Creator - incessantly triggering a subsequent renewal and further different Genesises, gradually strengthened.

Thanks to Faith, friendship that has a Vision, true ‘adults’ overcome the blurred thoughts, the summary and stagnant gestures of the discounted chains. They do it in an immediate, uninterrupted, growing way.

Here our belief becomes the Way not numb, and Rebirth. Image inside that grasps new possibilities in the world and in the Person of Christ.

Fresh and intense confidence, instead of disappointment. Magnet of what is hoped for.

[Monday 14th wk. in O.T.  July 6, 2026]

Calamitous Faith

(Mt 9:18-26)

In the communities of Mt the converted Jews were accused by the proponents of the old religion of being perjurers of the customs of the fathers and the great Tradition of Moses. No longer 'children of the precept'.

On the other hand, there was no lack of faithful preachers proclaiming to them that they were not the "sleeping ones" of the Law (v.24), but the only awake ones, living by the Spirit of it (vv.25-26). The true adults.

In the Gospel passage, the icons of such teaching are drawn from what believers in Christ experienced before their eyes. Specifically: how do we contain ourselves when the 'different one' knocks at the door of our homes and assemblies?

According to ancient Eastern beliefs, blood and death were icons of impurity and factors of social exclusion. Expulsion from the community (synagogue of the healthy and pure) was a religious obligation.

And those who were deemed to be afflicted with defects of even physical imperfection could not approach the threshold of assemblies, respectable families or civil life - not even those who had any relationship with them.

But how does God deal with those who have problems? Does He impose duties, procedures, prescribed purification rites? Does he humiliate the very one in need of understanding? And with a whole long rigmarole of disciplines, penances or public verifications?

No, he cures through personal faith. Thus he annihilates the power of death and the obsessive control of the Temple elders - legalists, busy with other tasks and calculations.

With his earth-shattering proposal Jesus cures the deadly disease of the whole people: both the spiritual "daughter" of the leaders [for this, "nation" already perished in the beginning] and those considered unclean.

All still, if you like, "adolescents" of religiosity, that is, unable to live a full life, or never becoming autonomous, although in the process of being so.

[In biblical language, the icons of women recalling the story of the people or a community derive from the fact that in Hebrew the term Israel is feminine].

At the moment of "healing" the "crowd" and the apostles - if ineffective and deviant - must disappear: only Faith (v.22) is valid, that is, the you-for-you with the Lord, who brings God among men and us into the heart of the Father.

That is why it is permissible to omit prescriptions and to surprise him by personal initiative (vv.20-21) - whereas according to the official teachers Jesus should look and go elsewhere (v.22).

To allow oneself to be controlled and kidnapped by false, interested guides means self-condemning oneself not to have a full, full-fledged, face-to-face, authentic and effective, direct relationship - as in love.

Only by unrepeatable Faith - personal and without torment - does one become "sons" (v.22), i.e. pure members of the authentic Church, which unites the creature with the Creator - ceaselessly sparking subsequent renewal and further different Genesis, gradually enhanced.

Thanks to Faith, a relationship of friendship that has Vision, true "adults" overcome the tarnished thoughts, the summary and stagnant gestures of predictable concatenations. They do so in an immediate, uninterrupted, growing way.

Here, our believing becomes unmurdered Way and Rebirth. "Image" within, grasping new possibilities in the world and in the Person of Christ.

Fresh and intense confidence instead of disappointment. Calamity of what is hoped for [cf. Heb 11:1].

To internalise and live the message:

Do you feel judged and marginalised? How do you intertwine your life with God's? How do you rise from the shroud of a world that is habitual and stagnant, addicted, pessimistic and doomed to death? Do you fear that you are a traitor?

Source of the passage from Mt: The episode of Jairus and the Hemorrhox (Mk 5)

Faith is Action, Resourcefulness; Life Force

Faith and Healing, or Exclusion

(Mk 5:21-43)

In Rome, at the time of Mk, the situation of confusion generated by the civil war seemed likely to become lethal for the survival of the persecuted young communities, which some mocked (v.40).

The twelve years of life and bleeding of the two women recall: in Semitic culture, the loss of blood indicated impurity [the beginning of death] and consequent social exclusion.

Blood and death were here and there factors of marginalisation even in the small fraternities, which in that period marked by a still Judaizing thought and customs prevented any participation, even in common appointments.

Under the obsessive diseducation of spiritual leaders, particularly on the sense of sin and unworthiness - in addition, the religious terror of demons - everything seemed to sow panic.

Fears absorbed most of the emotional resources. This made the people's situation worse (v.26).

How to overcome the heap of obstacles, which seemed to have no way out? One had to do the exact opposite of what the religious authorities were inculcating!

Incidentally, the women, completely subjugated, did not in conscience agree with the leaders at all.They even found in the type of male crowd attached to Christ an impediment to personal contact with the Lord....

So they knew they would have to invent something. And they were trying it on the sly.

The 'woman' moves by catching the Master 'from behind' (v.27) - indeed, by stealth! But hers is by no means a sacrilege.

Jesus notices the touch of the least, not just the usual misogynistic throng around.

So, the followers who already imagined they had seized him, fearful of his sensitivity to the least and the non-persons - they treat him as an imbecile and unwise (v.31).

The disciples [leaders and males] always stand by the Son of God, but they do not agree with Him at all. They just want to sequester Him for them.

Dear Rabbi, how dare you have a different reaction from what we tell you? And how does it occur to you to pay attention to those who should only be opposed and condemned - for the indecent initiative they have set themselves? Do you want to ruin us? There's us, that's enough; to others, death and hell; anticipated if possible.

For Jesus, on the other hand, the quality of life and of our expectations in this world is important: it is not enough to think about the afterlife [of the kind: Here sketches, and in the end you will deserve...].

Heaven alone does not count.

Therefore, the transgression of the (considered) defiled - who even follow their conscience [at that time a disgrace] - is grasped by the Lord as an expression of living Faith (v.34)!

"Daughter": Christ welcomes the woman into his Church, and in her he values all those whom the habitués keep at a safe distance.

Nor does He demand that she go to the Temple to offer the sacrifice prescribed by the Law to the priests!

He only says: "Your Faith has saved you. Go in Peace".

That is to say: proceed to the joy of a full life, without the judgement of inadequacy [and the usual deceitful tares] on your back.

Indeed, even the leader of ancient devotion cannot but beget "sons" [i.e., a whole spiritual people] already dead at the start (v.35).

But from the moment he turns to the authentic Master, he begins to make the transition from elementary piety to Faith (v.36).

In such an intimate spousal relationship, without the fear of punishment, the premature end regenerates life, youth, happiness.

The lesson is not only for the traditional synagogue, but also for the leaders of the nascent Church: the proud Peter, James and John (v.37).

Precisely because they are authoritarian, hasty and stubborn - all the other believers in the community are well advised to keep their distance from an environment that cries out in despair, because it still imagines physical death as an impassable fence (v.38).

And here arises a new religious transgression: the book of Leviticus forbade touching a corpse (v.41).

With this incredible gesture, Christ reiterates: whoever observes the law that does not humanise produces death himself and goes to his death.

The only non-negotiable value is the concrete good of the real person. God does not look at merits [supposedly, from invented observances] but needs.

And personal Faith is the divine Gold that realises the inner vision.

Indestructible quality of Relationship: such Action-compassion transcends death that spoils everything.

Precisely, attracting and fulfilling that which the act itself believes (vv.23.28.34.36.39).

"Young girl, I say to you: get up!" (v.41).

St Jerome comments: "Maiden, arise for me: not by your merit, but by my grace. Arise therefore for me: the fact that you were healed did not depend on your virtues' [Homilies on the Gospel of Mark, 3].

In the Gospels the verbs Living, Saving and Dying are ambivalent and describe both health and physical life and spiritual salvation, of the heart (v.34).

The narrative of today's Word helps us overcome the mechanistic view of life: in the Mystery of the founding Eros that animates and renews the life wave, there is the way to beat the problems.

In Christ, our total redemption is a divine response to a trust that is also a little primitive - perhaps incipient - but passionate, that leads to regeneration.

In the Hebrew Bible, the term 'immortality' does not exist.

Israel's slowness in believing in life without end is illuminating: it makes one realise that before believing in the future world, one must value and love existence in this world.

And to have passion for it in the same way as the Father.

Contact with the Son, his words, and the nods themselves, convey a power of healing and rebirth that renews both flesh and spirit; both light and shadow.

Not even death stands as a final and conclusive barrier.

Even today, the divine cure, its memory and consoling power are brought to life in the signs of the Church.

But let us not limit ourselves to being spectators crowding around, without true contact with the Risen One.

Let us open our ears and realise that we are not called to follow in the footsteps of bulky, extraneous presences of others.Let us speak to Him personally, and ask in everything that He intervene in our infirmities, or momentary lapses.

And there arises the silence of a space that is ours, unrepeatable, fragrant, secret; that blossoms from a genuine Syntony.

Then He will transform us, communicate Himself to us (v.43), make us like Him and able to withstand challenges.

Finally able to untie knots of death and help the suspensions of others.

To internalise and live the message:

What is the call of Jesus' actions for you, your family and community?

Jesus has shown an absolute power regarding this death, seen when he gives life back to the widow of Nain's young son (cf. Lk 7: 11-17) and to the 12 year-old girl (cf. Mk 5: 35-43). Precisely concerning her he said:  "The child is not dead but sleeping" (Mk 5: 39), attracting the derision of those present. But in truth it is exactly like this: bodily death is a sleep from which God can awaken us at any moment.

This lordship over death does not impede Jesus from feeling sincere "com-passion" for the sorrow of detachment. Seeing Martha and Mary and those who had come to console them weeping, Jesus "was deeply moved in spirit and troubled", and lastly, "wept" (Jn 11: 33, 35). Christ's heart is divine-human:  in him God and man meet perfectly, without separation and without confusion. He is the image, or rather, the incarnation of God who is love, mercy, paternal and maternal tenderness, of God who is Life. Therefore, he solemnly declared to Martha:  "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die". And he adds, "Do you believe this?" (Jn 11: 25-26). It is a question that Jesus addresses to each one of us:  a question that certainly rises above us, rises above our capacity to understand, and it asks us to entrust ourselves to him as he entrusted himself to the Father. Martha's response is exemplary:  "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world" (Jn 11: 27). Yes, O Lord! We also believe, notwithstanding our doubts and darkness; we believe in you because you have the words of eternal life. We want to believe in you, who give us a trustworthy hope of life beyond life, of authentic and full life in your Kingdom of light and peace.

We entrust this prayer to Mary Most Holy. May her intercession strengthen our faith and hope in Jesus, especially in moments of greater trial and difficulty.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 March 2008]

Dear Young People of Chile

1. I have longed for this meeting which gives me the opportunity to share directly your joy, your affection, your desire for a society more in keeping with the dignity proper to man, created in the image and likeness of God (cf. Gen 1:26). I know that these are the aspirations of young Chileans and for this I give thanks to God.

I have read your letters and listened with great attention and emotion to your testimonies, from which emerge not only the anxieties, problems and hopes of Chilean youth in the different regions, environments and social conditions.

You wanted to show what you think of our society and our world, pointing out the symptoms of weakness, infirmity and even spiritual death. Certainly: our world is in need of profound improvement, profound spiritual resurrection. Even though the Lord knows all this, he wants us, with the same faith as the synagogue leader Jairus - who tells him of the seriousness of his daughter's condition: "my little daughter is in extremis" (Mk 5:23) - to tell him what our problems are, whatever worries or saddens us. And the Lord hopes that we address the same plea to him as Jairus did when he asked for his daughter's health: "Come and lay your hands on her that she may be healed and live" (Mk 5:23). I invite you, therefore, to join in prayer for the salvation of the whole world, that all men may be reborn to a new life in Christ Jesus. There is Chile, but there is also the whole world; there are so many countries, so many peoples, so many nations that cannot die. One must pray to overcome death. One must pray to obtain new life in Christ Jesus. He is the life; He is the truth; He is the way.

2. I wish to remind you that God is counting on the young men and women of Chile to change the world. The future of your country depends on you. You yourselves are the future, which will be configured as the present by the way your lives are configured now. In the letter I addressed to the young men and women of the world on the occasion of the International Year of Youth, I told you: 'The future depends on you, the end of this Millennium and the beginning of the new one depend on you. Do not, therefore, be passive; assume your responsibilities in all the fields open to you in our world!" (Ioannes Pauli PP. II, Epistula Apostolica ad iuvenes Internationali vertente Anno Iuventuti dicato, 16, die 31 mar. 1985: Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, VIII/1 [1985] 800). Now, in this stadium, a place of competition, but also of pain and suffering in times past, I would like to repeat to the young people of Chile: Take responsibility! Be willing, animated by faith in the Lord, to give reasons for your hope (cf. 1 Pet 3:15).

Your attentive gaze at the world and social realities, as well as your authentic Christian sense, which must lead you to analyse and evaluate with discernment the present conditions of your country, cannot end with the simple denunciation of existing evils. Proposals for solutions, even bold ones, that are not only compatible with your faith, but also required by it, must be born and take shape in your young minds. A healthy Christian optimism will thus subtract the ground from sterile pessimism and give you confidence in the Lord.

3. What is the reason for your trust? Your faith, the recognition and acceptance of the immense love that God continually manifests to mankind: "God the Father, who loves each one of us from all eternity, who created us out of love and so loved us sinners that he gave his only Son so that our sins might be forgiven, and that we might be reconciled with him, and experience with him a communion of love that will never end" (Ioannis Pauli PP. II, Nuntius ad iuvenes, 2, die 30 Nov. 1986: Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, IX/2 [1986] 1820). Yes, Jesus Christ dead, Jesus Christ risen is for us the definitive proof of God's love for all men. Jesus Christ, "is the same yesterday, today and always" (Heb 13:8), continues to show the same love for young people that the Gospel describes when he meets with a young man and a young woman.

Thus we can contemplate it in the biblical reading we heard: the resurrection of the daughter of Jairus, who - St Mark points out - "was twelve years old" (Mk 5:42). It is worth pausing to contemplate the whole scene. Jesus, as on so many other occasions, was standing by the sea, surrounded by the crowd. Out of the crowd came out Jairus, who frankly exposed to the Master his sorrow, the infirmity of his daughter, and with insistence begged for her healing: "My little daughter is in extremis: come and lay your hands on her that she may be healed and live" (Mk 5:23).

"Jesus went with him" (Mk 5:24). The heart of Christ, who is moved by the human pain of this man and his young daughter, does not remain indifferent to our suffering. Christ always listens to us, but demands that we turn to him in faith.

A little later they came to tell Jairus that his daughter had died. Humanly there was no longer any remedy. "Your daughter is dead. Why do you still trouble the Master?" (Mk 5:36).

The love that Jesus feels for mankind, for us, impels him to go to the synagogue leader's house. All the Lord's gestures and words express this love. I would particularly like to dwell on the very words that came out of Jesus' mouth: 'The child is not dead, but asleep'. These deeply revealing words lead me to think of the mysterious presence of the Lord of life in a world that seems to succumb to the destructive impulse of hatred, violence and injustice; but no. This world, which is yours, is not dead, but asleep. In your hearts, dear young people, you feel the strong throb of life, of God's love. Youth is not dead when it is close to the Master. Yes, when it is close to Jesus. Listen to all his words, everything. Young people, love Jesus, seek Jesus. Meet with Jesus.

Then Christ entered the dwelling where she lay, took her hand and said to her: "Maiden, I say to you, get up!" (Mk 5:41). All the love and all the power of Christ - the power of his love - are revealed to us in this gentleness and in this authority with which Jesus gives life to this little girl and commands her to get up. We are moved by the effectiveness of Christ's word: "Immediately the little girl got up and began to walk" (Mk 5:42). In this last disposition of Jesus, before taking leave - "to give her something to eat" (Mk 5:43) - we discover to what extent Christ, true God and true man, knows and cares for all our spiritual and material needs.

From faith in Christ's love for young people comes the Christian optimism that you manifest in this meeting.

4. Only Christ can give the true answer to your difficulties! The world needs your personal response to the Master's words of life: "I say to you, arise!"

We see how Jesus goes out to meet humanity, in the most difficult and distressing situations. The miracle performed in the house of Jairus shows us his power over evil. He is the Lord of life, the victor over death.

Let us compare the case of Jairus' daughter with the situation in today's society. However, we cannot forget that, according to what faith teaches us, the primary cause of evil, of infirmity, of death itself, is sin in its various forms.

In the heart of each and every one of us lies this infirmity that affects us all: personal sin, increasingly rooted in our consciences, to the extent that we lose our sense of God! One cannot overcome evil with good if one does not have this sense of God, of his action, of his presence that invites us to always bet for grace, for life, against sin, against death. The fate of humanity is at stake: 'Man can build a world without God, but this world will end up turning against man' (Ioannis Pauli PP. II, Reconciliatio et Paenitentia, 18).

Hence the need to see the social implications of sin in order to build a world worthy of man. There are social evils that give rise to a veritable 'communion of sin' in that, together with the soul, they demean the Church and in a way the whole world (Cf. ibid., 16). The reaction of young people to this deadly communion in sin that poisons the world is right.

Beloved young people. Fight courageously against sin, against the forces of evil in all its forms, fight against sin. Fight the good fight of faith for the dignity of man, for the dignity of love, for a noble life as children of God. Overcoming sin through God's forgiveness is a healing, a resurrection. Do it with full awareness of your inalienable responsibility.

5. If you probe your innermost self, you will undoubtedly discover faults, unfulfilled desires for good, sins, but you will also realise that in your intimacy lie forces that have remained dormant, virtues that have not been sufficiently exercised, capacities for reaction that have not been exhausted.

These energies are as if hidden in the soul of a young man or woman; how many just aspirations and profound yearnings that it is necessary to reawaken, to bring to light! Energies and values that are often stifled by the behaviour and pressures that come from secularisation, and that can only be reawakened by the experience of faith, by the experience of the living Christ, of Christ crucified, of Christ dead and risen.

Young Chileans, do not be afraid to look to Him! Look to the Lord: what do you see? Is He only a wise man? No! He is more than that! Is He a prophet? Yes! He is even more than that! Is he a social reformer? More than a reformer, much more. Look to the Lord with an attentive gaze and you will discover in Him the very face of God. Jesus is the Word that God had to speak to the world. It is God himself who came to share our existence, the existence of each one of us.

At the contact of Jesus, life germinates. Away from Him there is only darkness and death. You thirst for life. Of eternal life! For eternal life? Seek it and find it in Him who not only gives life but is Life itself.

6. This, my friends, is the message of life that the Pope wants to transmit to the young people of Chile: Seek Christ! Look to Christ! Live in Christ! This is my message: may Jesus be "the cornerstone (cf. Eph 2:20) of your life and of the new civilisation that you must build in generous and shared solidarity. There can be no authentic human development in peace and justice, in truth and freedom, if Christ does not make himself present with his saving power" (Ioannis Pauli PP. II, Nuntius ad iuvenes, 3, die 30 Nov. 1986, Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, IX/2 [1986] 1821). What does it mean to build your life in Christ? It means letting yourselves be committed by his love. A love that demands coherence in one's behaviour, that demands conforming one's conduct to the doctrine and commandments of Jesus Christ and his Church; a love that fills our lives with a happiness and peace that the world cannot give (cf. Jn 14:27), despite its great need. Do not be afraid of the demands of Christ's love. Fear, on the contrary, pusillanimity, levity, comfort, selfishness; everything that wants to silence the voice of Christ who, addressing each one, repeats "I say to you, arise!" (Mk 5:41).

Look to Christ with courage, contemplating his life through the serene reading of the Gospel; seek him with confidence in the intimacy of your prayer, in the sacraments, especially in the Eucharist, where he offers himself for us and is truly present. Do not neglect to form your conscience in depth, seriously, on the basis of the teachings Christ has left us and which his Church preserves and interprets with the authority it has received from him.

If you seek Christ, you too will hear in the depths of your soul the Lord's requests, his constant exhortations. Jesus continues to address you, repeating: "I say to you, arise!" (Mk 5:41), especially when you are not faithful to the works you profess in words. Try, then, not to turn away from Christ, preserving in your soul the divine grace you received in Baptism, having recourse, when necessary, to the sacrament of reconciliation and forgiveness.

7. If you strive to put into practice this programme of life rooted in faith and love for Jesus Christ, you will be able to transform society, to build a more human, more fraternal, more Christian Chile. All this seems to be summed up in the blunt phrase of the Gospel: "Immediately the maiden got up and started walking" (Mk 5:42). With Christ you too will walk in safety and you will carry his presence in all the streets, in all the activities of this world, in the midst of all the injustices of this world. With Christ, you will succeed in making your society start to tread new paths, to the point of making it the new civilisation of truth and love, anchored in the values proper to the Gospel and especially in the precept of charity, the precept that is the most divine and the most human.

Christ asks us not to remain indifferent in the face of injustice, to commit ourselves responsibly to building a more Christian society, a better society. This requires that we banish hatred from our lives: that we recognise as deceptive, false, incompatible with following him, any ideology that proclaims violence and hatred as remedies for achieving justice. Love always wins, as Christ won; love has won, even though sometimes, when faced with concrete events and situations, it may seem ineffective to us. Christ too gave the impression that he could not do it. God can always do more.

In your experience of faith with the Lord, discover the face of the one who, being our master, is the only one who can demand totally, without limits. Opt for Jesus and reject the idolatries of the world, the idols that seek to seduce youth. Only God is adorable. Only He deserves your total gift.

Is it true that you want to renounce the idol of wealth, the lust for possessions, consumerism, easy money?

Is it true that you want to reject the idol of power, as dominion over others instead of the attitude of fraternal service of which Jesus gave the example? Is it true?

Is it true that you want to reject the idol of sex, of pleasure, which holds back your desire to follow Christ on the path of the cross that leads to life? The idol that can destroy love.With Christ, with his grace, you will know how to be generous so that all your brothers and sisters, and especially the most needy, may share in material goods and in an education and culture appropriate to our times, which will allow them to develop the natural talents God has granted them. In this way it will be easier to attain those goals of development and well-being that are indispensable for all to lead a life worthy and proper to the children of God.

8. Young people, rise up and participate, together with the many thousands of men and women in the Church, in the tireless mission of proclaiming the Gospel, of tenderly guiding those who suffer in this land, and of seeking ways to build a just country, a country living in peace. Faith in Christ teaches us that it is worth working for a more just society, that it is worth defending the innocent, the oppressed and the poor, that it is worth suffering to alleviate the suffering of others.

Young man, stand up! You are called to passionately seek the truth, to tirelessly cultivate goodness, a man or woman with a vocation for holiness. May the difficulties you experience not be an obstacle to your love and generosity, but a strong challenge. Do not tire of serving, do not keep silent about the truth, overcome your fears, be aware of your personal limitations. You must be strong and courageous, lucid and persevering on this long journey.

Do not let yourself be seduced by violence and the thousand reasons that seem to justify it. He is wrong who says that only by passing through it will justice and peace be achieved.

Young man, stand up, have faith in peace, an arduous task, the task of all. Do not fall into apathy in the face of what seems impossible. In you sprout the seeds of life for the Chile of tomorrow. The future of justice, the future of peace passes through your hands and springs from the depths of your heart. Be a protagonist in the construction of a new coexistence of a more just, healthy and fraternal society.

9. I conclude by invoking our Mother. Mary Most Holy, under the protection of the Virgin of Mount Carmel, Patroness of your Homeland. Traditionally, men of the sea have always resorted to this protection, asking the Mother of God for asylum and protection on their long and often difficult crossings. Place you too under her protection the "navigation" of your life, of your young life not free from difficulties, and she will lead you to the port of true Life. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, to the young people of Santiago de Chile, 2 April 1987]

This Sunday’s Gospel passage (cf. Mk 5:21-43) presents two miracles performed by Jesus, almost describing them as a type of triumphal march toward life. Initially the Evangelist speaks about a certain Jairus, one of the rulers of the Synagogue, who approaches Jesus and beseeches Him to go to his home because his 12-year-old daughter is dying. Jesus agrees and goes with him; but, along the way, word arrives that the girl is dead. We can imagine that father’s reaction. But Jesus says to him: “Do not fear, only believe” (36). When they arrive at Jairus’ house, Jesus sends out the people who were weeping — there were also women mourners who were wailing loudly — and He enters the room with just the parents and the three disciples, and speaking to the dead girl He says: “Little girl, I say to you, arise” (v. 41). And immediately the girl gets up, as if waking from a deep sleep (cf. v. 42).

Within the narrative of this miracle, Mark adds another: the healing of a woman who suffers from a haemorrhage and is healed as soon as she touches Jesus’ garment (cf. v. 27). Here what is striking is the fact that this woman’s faith attracts — to me the word “robs” comes to mind — the divine saving power that is in Christ, who, feeling that “power had gone forth from him”, tried to understand who it was. And when the woman, with much shame, comes forward and confesses the whole truth, He tells her: “Daughter, your faith has made you well” (v. 34).

It is a matter of two interlocking narratives, with a single core: faith; and they show Jesus as the wellspring of life, as the One who restores life to those who trust fully in him. The two protagonists, that is, the little girl’s father and the sick woman, are not disciples of Jesus yet they are satisfied through their faith. They have faith in that man. From this we understand that all are permitted on the Lord’s path: no one should feel as an intruder, an interloper or one who has no right. To have access to His heart, to Jesus’ heart, there is only one requirement: to feel in need of healing and to entrust yourself to Him. I ask you: do each of you feel that you need to be healed? Of something, of some sin, of some problem? And, if you feel this, do you have faith in Jesus? These are the two requirements in order to be healed, in order to have access to his heart: to feel in need of healing and to entrust yourself to Him. Jesus goes to discover these people among the crowd and removes them from anonymity, frees them from the fear of living and of taking risks. He does so with a look and a word which sets them back on the path after much suffering and humiliation. We too are called to learn and to imitate these freeing words and this gaze which restores the will to live to those who lack it.

In this Gospel passage the themes of faith and of new life, which Jesus came to offer to all, are intertwined. When he enters the house where the dead girl lies, he sends outside those who are weeping and making tumult (cf. v. 40), and he says: “The child is not dead but sleeping” (v. 39). Jesus is Lord, and before him physical death is like a dream: there is no reason to despair. Another death is the one to fear: that of the heart hardened by evil! Yes, we should be afraid of that one! When we feel we have a hardened heart, a heart that is hardened, allow me to say, a mummified heart, we should be afraid of this. This is the death of the heart. But sin too, the mummified heart too, is never the last word with Jesus, because he has brought us the infinite mercy of the Father. And even if we have hit rock bottom, his tender and strong voice reaches us: “I say to you, arise!”. It is beautiful to hear that word of Jesus addressed to each one of us: “I say to you, arise! Go. Stand up. Take courage, arise!”. Jesus restores life to the little girl and restores life to the healed woman: life and faith to both.

Let us ask the Virgin Mary to accompany our journey of faith and of concrete love, especially toward those who are in need. Let us invoke her maternal intercession for our brothers and sisters who are suffering in body and in spirit.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 1 July 2018]

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [5 July 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Zechariah (9:9–10)

This text could be summarised as follows: for the prophet Zechariah, the Messiah is a King of peace, not of war, and humble like the Servant. ‘Rejoice, O Daughter of Zion’ is a message of consolation in times of war. For thus says the Lord: Rejoice, shout for joy, O Daughter of Jerusalem! ‘Daughter of Zion/Jerusalem’ is not a young woman, but the city itself: it is as if to say ‘Jerusalem, rejoice’. The paradox is that whilst the tone is triumphant, in reality it is a time of war because the prophet Zechariah carried out his mission at the beginning of Greek rule (c. 330 BC), following Alexander’s conquests, and it is an ‘oracle of consolation’. This helps us to understand certain expressions such as ‘He will remove the war chariots from Ephraim and the war horses from Jerusalem; he will break the bow of war and proclaim peace to the nations’. At a time when all seems lost, Zechariah leads Israel to hope in God’s intervention. And when Zechariah speaks of the Messiah, he uses the classic terms of the expected Messiah: a king who brings justice and peace: ‘O God, entrust your judgement to the king… May he rule from sea to sea, from the River to the ends of the earth’ (Ps 71/72).  The boldness lies in proclaiming this hope precisely when all human hope has collapsed. Here are three statements by Zechariah, the last of which is decisive. First: “He will proclaim peace to the nations”: it was only after the exile to Babylon that Israel realised that God’s plan encompasses all humanity.  Second: “He will remove… from Ephraim… from Jerusalem”: mentioning Ephraim (the North) and Jerusalem (the South) together is a subtle way of announcing the restoration and reunification of the ancient kingdom of David. By the time Zechariah was writing, the North and South had long since lost their unity and sovereignty. Third: The real novelty: “poor and riding on a donkey, a colt, the foal of a donkey”. The donkey is a humble mount. Alexander’s conquerors rode on quite different steeds. In Jerusalem, Solomon had introduced the warhorse and the parade horse, and was reproached for his taste for grandeur. A king on a donkey had never been seen before.  Jesus presents himself as the Messiah ‘in the manner of Zechariah’. Isaiah had already glimpsed a humble Messiah (Isaiah 50:6; 53:7). The Servant does not bear the title of ‘king’, but carries out the work of the Messiah and is filled with the Spirit of God.  Zechariah, on the other hand, immediately presents the Messiah as King: he takes up the traditional expectation of the Messiah-King. The novelty lies in combining this royal expectation with the humility of Isaiah’s Servant. For his king is humble: the dreams of grandeur, war and power come to an end. Only one thing matters: establishing peace for his people. The four Gospels describe Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem precisely as the coming of this King riding on a donkey. Matthew (Mt 21:5) and John (12:15) quote Zechariah. Perhaps Jesus himself quoted it to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, whilst ‘explaining to them what was written about himself in the Scriptures’ (Lk 24:27). 

Responsorial Psalm (144/145)

In this psalm, it is clear that God’s kingship is mercy towards all. Moreover, Psalm 144/145 is the only one entitled ‘Praise’. Whilst it is true that the entire Hebrew Psalter is called ‘praises’, this is the only psalm actually titled ‘praise’. The tone is one of wonder; the theme is the kingship of the God of the Covenant. In a celebration of the renewal of the Covenant, Israel contemplates the King who protects them freely, without merit. Hence the royal language: “I will exalt you, my God, my King… your faithful ones will proclaim the glory of your kingdom; they will speak of your mighty deeds”. We can discern in this psalm an “alphabet” of tenderness because it is an “alphabetical” psalm, and from Aleph to Tav—that is, “all of life, from A to Z, is immersed in the Covenant, in God’s tenderness”. The verse-by-verse parallelism is very marked: it should be read by two alternating choirs. And it is precisely this parallelism that is instructive, because in the liturgy two pairs of verses are joined which, at first glance, are surprising: “The Lord is faithful in all his words and good in all his deeds; the Lord upholds those who falter and lifts up all who have fallen”.  “The Lord is faithful in all his words and good in all his deeds / He is close to those who call upon him, to those who call upon him in sincerity.” This means that God’s justice, truth and faithfulness are nothing other than his mercy. The greatest justice in the world is not that of the scales, but that of love. If we live “according to the Spirit of God”, as Paul urges the Romans – Sunday’s second reading – we set out precisely on this path: a justice that is synonymous with mercy. The King spoken of in the psalm is not like the kings of the earth; he is almighty and good: he desires only our happiness. When Israel speaks of the power of this King ‘not like the others’, it knows that his power is nothing but love: ‘The Lord is good; he is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love.’ This is the finest summary of the entire biblical revelation. Israel speaks from experience: how many times, especially during the exile in Babylon, did it call upon God and plead for forgiveness and a return… Now the people gathered in the rebuilt Temple sing: ‘The Lord is merciful and compassionate.’ ‘May all your works praise you, O Lord, and may your faithful bless you’—may they bless you!... O God, my King, I will exalt you and bless your name for ever and ever.’ The task is to sing it loud enough for everyone to know: the abundance of the Lord’s forgiveness, tenderness and compassion is for everyone, for God loves humanity and his ‘merciful plan’ encompasses all humanity and the whole of creation. It is easy to see why Psalm 144/145 has become the morning prayer of the people who were the first to learn to speak to God as to a father. For the Jewish believer, the morning – the dawn of a new day – irresistibly evokes the dawn of the final Day, of the world to come, of the renewed creation. The rabbinic tradition of the Talmud states that whoever recites this psalm three times a day ‘can be sure of being a child of the world to come’.  

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (8:9, 11–13)

For Saint Paul, living according to the Spirit means allowing God’s Love to dwell within us. 

The difficulty with this text lies in the word ‘flesh’. For Paul, it does not have the same meaning as it does in our 21st-century English. We contrast ‘body’ and ‘soul’ and risk a huge misunderstanding. When Paul says ‘flesh’, he does not mean the body; when he says ‘Spirit’, he does not mean the soul. Nor does he set two words—‘flesh’ against ‘Spirit’—but rather two expressions: ‘living according to the flesh’ and ‘living according to the Spirit’. For him, it is a matter of choosing between two ways of life, two masters, two courses of action. For Paul, to live ‘according to the flesh’ is to live without God, relying solely on our own strength, confined within the limits of human intelligence and strength. Obviously, that doesn’t get us very far! Or rather, it can take us very far, but in the wrong direction. This is the theme of the ‘two paths’ that recurs constantly in Paul’s writing. Living without God always ends up meaning living far from God, in a state of estrangement that can only get worse. He described this in the opening chapters of the Letter to the Romans, using images from Genesis: to live according to the flesh is to live like Adam – he wants to become like God, but without God’s help. He is mistaken. We, too, sometimes seek happiness on our own, without Him or in opposition to Him, without realising that this is the best way to harm ourselves. ‘Living according to the Spirit’ is the great news  

because living ‘according to the Spirit’ means allowing oneself to be guided by Him, and thus living by the power of God: it changes everything!  The great news of the text is: ‘The Spirit of God dwells in you’, so ‘you are not under the dominion of the flesh, but under the dominion of the Spirit’.  The verb ‘to dwell’ appears three times today: whoever dwells in a house is the master; it is he who is in charge. We have literally become the Spirit’s dwelling places: it is He who is now in command. Our freedom lies in opening the door to Him. We must, however, consider what place we leave for Him in our home, for we are free to open the door to a greater or lesser extent. In many passages, Paul emphasises our freedom: ‘you are not under the dominion of the flesh’ means that we are no longer slaves to the forces of evil; we now have the strength to ensure that true values triumph: love, peace, truth and justice. We have the strength, but we are not obliged: the choice must be made anew at every moment. The more space we make for the Holy Spirit in our home – that is, the more we do what he suggests on the path of love, kindness and forgiveness – the more truly alive we will be. Before his conversion, Paul faithfully observed many moral and religious rules, but the Spirit of Christ did not dwell within him; he still lived ‘under the dominion of the flesh’. And this could have led him to violence and murder, in perfect good faith. Now his whole life is inspired by the Spirit of Christ, to the point of saying: ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me’ (Gal 2:20). Two consequences can be drawn for us who are baptised: 1) We shall rise with Christ: a promise for the future. ‘The Spirit will exercise his power in us and bring to fulfilment in us what he brought to fulfilment in Jesus’ (Rom 8:11).  2) Even now, our lives are transformed just as Paul’s was, because we are now ‘under the rule of the Spirit’. ‘I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live,’ proclaimed Ezekiel (37:14). Paul often speaks of the new spiritual life that springs from Baptism: whilst remaining in our mortal bodies, we can already live by the Spirit of Christ. This is what John calls ‘eternal life’. In practical terms: the Spirit is Love. Simply replace ‘Spirit’ with ‘Love’, and to live according to the Spirit is to allow Him to inspire our words and deeds of love.  A few chapters earlier, Paul wrote to the Romans: ‘God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us’ (Rom 5:5). And to the Galatians he explains the fruits of the Spirit: ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control’ (Gal 5:22): in a word, it is love expressed in all the concrete circumstances of life.  Paul is the heir to the prophets: they all affirm that our relationship with God is reflected in the quality of our relationship with others. In the Servant Songs, Isaiah affirms that to live according to the Spirit of God is to love and serve one’s brothers and sisters. As John says: ‘Whoever does not love remains in death… We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers and sisters’ (1 John 3:14). 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (11:25–30)

In this text, we find the central theme in Jesus’ ‘gentle yoke and light burden’, which is, in fact, the Law of love that brings rest: ‘ ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.’ What is the ‘yoke’?  The yoke is a heavy, solid piece of wood that joins two oxen for ploughing. They join forces, and the stronger one sets the pace. Figuratively speaking, ‘taking up the yoke’ means binding oneself to someone to walk at the same pace, yoked to the same task. In the Old Testament and in Judaism, the expression was commonly used to refer to the Covenant: ‘to take up the yoke of the Torah’, that is, to commit oneself to following God’s Law, knowing that all the strength of the ‘team’ comes from God himself. For a Jew, the service of the Torah is not an unbearable burden; it is the path to true happiness. Ben Sirach said: “You will find your rest in it, and it will become your joy” (Sir 6:28). Jesus takes up this image, linking it to the yoke of the Torah and to rest: “Take my yoke upon you, become my disciples, practise my commandments, and you will find rest for your souls”.  And he adds: “Yes, my yoke is easy to bear and my burden is light.” One senses a criticism of certain Pharisees who had turned the Law into a litany of meticulous obligations. Of them, Jesus says: “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders; but they themselves are not willing to move them even with a finger” (Mt 23:4). Meanwhile, the majority of the people struggled to observe all the commandments imposed by the religious authorities and felt the contempt directed at them. Jesus invites his disciples to lay aside these burdens that are too heavy: ‘Take my yoke upon you… my yoke is easy and my burden is light’. His yoke is simply the law of love, and it is He who gives us the strength to bear it. ‘Rest’ was also a familiar word. The Old Testament presented the Promised Land as the place of rest given by God to his people. Conversely, when the people were unfaithful, Psalm 94/95 expressed God’s sorrow: ‘This people’s heart is led astray… they shall not enter my rest’. Taking up that psalm, the Letter to the Hebrews announces a new day when, with Christ, we shall enter God’s rest with confidence: ‘Let us therefore strive to enter that rest’ (Heb 4:11). The absolute novelty is that Jesus identifies himself with God, and he alone can say, ‘I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you… my yoke is easy…’. The religious leaders were annoyed by this, whilst those who were weary under the weight of their burdens were drawn to the respect and care he showed to each one.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [28 June 2026]

First Reading from the Second Book of Kings (4:8–11, 14–16a)

Here is a brief overview of this Sunday’s biblical readings, beginning with this story of a beautiful human friendship. In Shunem, a village in the Northern Kingdom around 850 BC, Elisha, at the start of his ministry, forms a strong and lasting friendship with a wealthy family. The biblical authors do not recount this story merely as an anecdote: they have a theological purpose and show that the covenant between Elisha and the Shunammites is a reflection of the Covenant between God and Israel. This story unfolds in four acts: 1. The promise of a son: Elisha announces to the barren woman: ‘Next year, at this very time, you will be holding a son in your arms.’ She does not believe him and replies: ‘No, my lord, man of God, do not lie to your servant.’ Like Sarah at Mamre, she doubts. But the following year the child is born. 2. The resurrection: Years later, the child dies in the fields, struck down by heatstroke. Without losing faith, the mother lays the body on Elisha’s bed, in the room on the terrace, and runs to find him. She reminds him: ‘I had not asked you for anything; do not take this son from me.’ Elisha prays and raises the child from the dead. 3. The warning of famine: True to this friendship, Elisha warns the Shunammite woman of seven years of famine and advises her to leave for the land of the Philistines. She obeys and goes into exile. 4. The restoration of her property. On her return, her house and fields had been confiscated by the king’s officials. Elisha intervenes once more and restores her lands to her. But what theological lesson does this text offer us? This friendship illustrates five aspects of the Covenant between God and Israel: 1. A permanent covenant and faithfulness: God remains faithful even in the face of unbelief.  2. Constant care: Just as Elisha did for his hostess, God watches over his people without ceasing.  3. God dwells with us: Elisha accepts the room on the terrace: God wishes to dwell amongst his people, as in Solomon’s Temple.  4. God restores: Elisha restores the land; God promises to restore the land to Israel – a key message written during the Babylonian Exile.  5. God is the God of life: A promise of the child’s birth and resurrection, for God gives life. The Shunammite woman becomes a model of faith for us: she welcomes the prophet ‘as a prophet’, as Jesus will say in the Gospel of Matthew (10:41). Her trust is complete: she dares to tell God her needs and even her anger. She recognises Elisha as a ‘holy man of God’. Here is a practical application: God dwells in the heart of every person, and it is important to recognise this. 

Responsorial Psalm (88/89)

Here is a clear message: we must never doubt. The first reading recounts the long friendship between a family from Shunem and the prophet Elisha, the ‘man of God’. Through this human relationship, we reflect on the eternal Covenant between God and his people, and with all humanity. Psalm 88/89, which is proclaimed today, seems to be a song written in the midst of trial.  Although the few verses of the responsorial psalm seem full of joy, the complete psalm, comprising no fewer than 53 verses, was probably composed during the Babylonian Exile. It is a synthesis of the entire history of Israel: the beginning of the Covenant, the promises to David, the expectation of the Messiah… and then the collapse: no more kings in Jerusalem, no heir, and therefore no Messiah. Hence the anguished question in verse 50: ‘Where, O Lord, is your first love, the one you swore to David concerning your faithfulness?’. What is asserted with such force is, in reality, what one fears to have lost. The psalm is, moreover, the last in the third book of the Psalms and concludes with: ‘Blessed be the Lord for ever! Amen! Amen!’. It therefore has the character of a conclusion. On closer inspection, this psalm presents itself as a skilful composition. The first stanza is very carefully crafted, with parallel structures: I will sing of the Lord’s love without end; I will proclaim your faithfulness from age to age. Love/faithfulness, song/proclamation, without end/from age to age, established/stable, for ever/the heavens: a marvellous parallelism between time and space that invites us to cherish the singing of the Psalms.  The heart of the message is Love and faithfulness. In the complete psalm, the pairing ‘love and faithfulness’ occurs seven times, a symbolic number. It is the translation of the revelation to Moses on Mount Sinai: ‘A God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love and faithfulness’ (Ex 34:6) .   In Hebrew, ‘love’—that is, ‘God’s acts of love’—indicates that God does not love merely in words, but ‘in deed and in truth’, as St John will say in the New Testament.  It is precisely during the exile that Israel remembers, more than ever, ‘God’s acts of love’ so as not to fall into the temptation of thinking that God has forgotten them. In short, the psalm presents a group of believers composing hymns to commemorate the faithfulness of God, who has never ceased to be the King of Israel. The phrase “for the Lord is our shield, our King, the Holy One of Israel” is sung precisely at a time when there is no longer a human king. And it is interesting that the psalm uses royal and martial vocabulary: ‘shout of triumph/terouah, power, strength, vigour, shield’ – because the king led the army. These are victorious expressions spoken in a time of defeat. And the psalm concludes by recalling the insults suffered by the Messiah: ‘ Remember, Lord, your servants who have been humiliated… your enemies have humiliated, Lord, your Messiah”.   Moral: it is precisely in the night, in the darkness of exile and trial, that we must believe in the light and in the reaffirmation of God’s promises.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (6:3… 11)

St Paul points to a new way of life and responds to the objection  of those who reproach him, saying that by placing too much emphasis on the free gift of salvation, he is encouraging sin. He retorts: grace does not render sin irrelevant, but it no longer has power over the believer because, from Baptism, the believer is a ‘new creation’: ‘If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation’ (2 Cor 5:17). Paul explains the meaning of the key word ‘death’, which is not biological, and uses this word in a theological sense: all of us who have been baptised into Christ Jesus have been baptised into his death… we have therefore died to sin, and now we live for God in Christ Jesus. It is a radical break with the past, one that no longer fears physical death. Paul speaks from experience: on the road to Damascus, he ‘died’ to the old self, to his former way of seeing, acting and believing. The ‘baptism’ of Israel thus serves as a key for Paul to explain Christian Baptism, as he clearly recalls in his First Letter to the Corinthians (cf. 1 Cor 10:1–2) . Israel, ‘baptised’ by Moses in the cloud and the sea during the crossing of the Red Sea, experienced the death of Egyptian slavery: forced labour, massacres, the Pharaoh’s bad faith – and thus a clean break with the machinery of oppression.  In this way, Christ brings about the decisive break: the person enslaved by sin, by doubts, by violence, is set free. Jesus, ‘obedient unto death, even death on a cross’ (Phil 2:8), breaks the vicious circle. His death is a triumph: ‘dead to sin once and for all, alive to God’. To live in the manner of Christ is therefore ‘to die to sin’—that is, to die to the old way of life: hatred, violence, the thirst for power and money—in order to ‘live for and in God’, that is, to choose Christ as the one Lord and to enter into a new life made up of love and service to one’s brothers and sisters. Baptism marks the beginning of this radical change: it is true liberation. Paul says to the baptised: “Consider yourselves dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus”. The gift has already been granted, but it remains to be put into practice every day. And here lies the challenge that arises from it: whilst entering into salvation is simple—for it is enough simply to believe—living it out becomes extremely demanding, as it requires us to model our daily lives on the Spirit of Christ. He repeats this in his letter to the Ephesians: ‘Put off the old self… be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new self, created according to God in righteousness and true holiness’ (Eph 4:22–24). There is but one secret: to keep our eyes fixed on the cross of Christ. Only his obedience and gentleness break the chain of violence. As Jesus says: ‘Abide in me, and I in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, neither can you unless you remain in me’ (Jn 15:4).

From the Gospel according to Matthew (10:37–42)

This text helps us to learn how to accept the necessary sacrifices. At first glance, Matthew 10:37–42 seems like a list of unrelated maxims. In reality, it is a single invitation: these are the detachments required by fidelity to the Gospel. After the Sermon on the Mount on love, Jesus speaks here of other demands. We must learn to love God in times of persecution of the Church: ‘Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me’. Loving God does not mean ceasing to love one’s family, even though he had warned shortly before: ‘Brother will turn against brother and father against son, and children will rise up against their parents and put them to death’ (cf. Mt 10:21). ‘I have not come to bring peace, but a sword… I will set a man against his father’ (Mt 10:34–35; cf. Micah 7:6). How can this be explained?  Every persecution gives rise to personal tragedies because one is forced to choose between faithfulness and death. Even without violence, it is within the family and amongst friends that bearing witness is most difficult and can lead to heart-wrenching conflict. To learn to love is therefore to take up one’s cross: “Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it; whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.”  For Jesus and his listeners, crucifixion was a humiliating form of mass execution carried out along Roman roads, as it exposed the condemned to horror, disgrace and derision. In Deuteronomy we read that the crucified person is ‘cursed by God’ (Deut 21:22–23). And in Psalm 21/22, Jesus proclaims: ‘I am a worm and not a man, scorned by men, rejected by the people’, although the interpretation of this passage helps us to better understand what Jesus meant (in the footnote, I have taken the liberty of including a text I came across). Jesus knows that he and his disciples will be persecuted, despised and humiliated. “A servant is not greater than his master. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). “Taking up the cross” means accepting being marginalised, losing one’s reputation for the sake of faithfulness to Christ. Finally, here is the only reward that answers all our objections: “ Whoever welcomes you welcomes me; whoever welcomes me welcomes the One who sent me… Whoever welcomes a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; whoever welcomes a righteous person because he is righteous will receive a righteous person’s reward. And whoever gives even a single glass of cool water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple will not lose his reward”.  It sounds like a ‘give-and-take’, but it is not. We are not in the realm of ‘having’, but of ‘being’. God does not give quantities of goods, but eternal life: life in his very presence. All the saints bear witness to a quality of happiness, not a quantity.  Jesus himself promises: “ ‘Whoever has left houses, brothers, sisters, father, mother, children or fields for my sake will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life’ (Mt 19:29).  Paul lived this out: ‘Whatever gains I once had, I have come to regard as a loss for the sake of Christ… so that I may know Christ, share in his sufferings, and become like him in his death’ (Phil 3:7–10). ‘Being seized by Christ’ is what is at stake. If one seeks a common thread running through this text, it can easily be found in the link between all these phrases, precisely in this verb; ‘being seized by Christ’ as an inner fire that makes possible all acts of renunciation out of fidelity to the Gospel: renunciation of affection, of esteem, of possessions, of life itself. The Beatitudes resound powerfully within our hearts: ‘Blessed are you when they revile you… Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great! ” (Mt 5:11–12).

Note: Jesus, the “worm” on the cross. On the cross, JESUS COMPARED HIMSELF TO AN INSECT TO REVEAL THE SECRET OF HIS DEATH. THIS IS THE MYSTERY OF PSALM 22… As he was dying on the cross, Jesus recited Psalm 22. It is the quintessential prophetic psalm of the crucifixion. But in verse 6 there is a humiliating and bewildering phrase: ‘Yet I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people’ . Why does the King of the universe, at the most glorious moment of redemption, describe himself as a ‘worm’?  Middle Eastern zoology reveals one of nature’s most moving portraits of love. The TOLA’ATH SHANI תּוֹלַעַת שָׁנִי, the Hebrew word used by David, is not the common term for ‘earthworm’. He used Tola’ath Shani, meaning ‘crimson worm’, from which a red dye was extracted. When the female of this crimson worm is ready to give birth, she performs an instinctive and radical act: she seeks out a tree trunk and attaches herself to it forever. It clings to it with such force that, if anyone tries to pry it loose, its body is torn apart.  There, still attached to the wood, it gives birth to its young. To protect them from predators, the mother secretes a crimson-red fluid that covers her entire body, stains the wood red and completely envelops her young. In this act of giving life and protection, the mother dies.  

Here is the extraordinary phenomenon: three days later, the mother’s lifeless body, still attached to the tree, loses its red colour, turns as white as snow and falls gently to the ground (Isaiah 1:18). JESUS NAILED HIMSELF TO THE TREE TO GIVE YOU LIFE: Jesus was not using a metaphor of humiliation, but was proclaiming his mission, and this is a message for us.  Jesus was saying to you from the cross: ‘I am the Tola’ath Shani’. He chose to go to the tree of his own free will. He allowed himself to be nailed to the cross, knowing that if he had come down from it, his ‘children’ – us – would have died at the hands of the predator. He shed his crimson fluid – his blood – to cover you, protect you and give you life, by offering up his own.  When you feel worthless, when you think that nobody cares about you or that the enemy will devour you, look at the wood of the cross. You have a Saviour who chose to die nailed to a tree rather than lose you. His blood has covered you entirely and, three days later, He rose again to make you as white as snow. You are the fruit of His perfect sacrifice!

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul  [29 June 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (12:1–11)

The central theme of this text is: ‘God always delivers for the sake of the mission’. At that time, the young Church was under pressure, and the miracle of Peter’s deliverance must not make us forget the atmosphere of the early Church. Jesus died around AD 30, and at the beginning the disciples were few in number and harmless. The problems began with ‘too spectacular’ healings, which led to Peter being imprisoned twice by the religious authorities: the first time alongside John, involving a trial and threats, whilst the second time alongside other apostles, who were freed at night by an angel: ‘Go, stand in the Temple and proclaim to the people all these words of life’ (Acts 5:17–20).  Then came the execution of Stephen and the persecution that drove the ‘Hellenists’ to flee from Jerusalem towards Samaria and the coast. James, Peter and John remained. In the episode in Acts 12, it is the political authorities who take action. We are under Herod Agrippa I, grandson of Herod the Great, who reigned alone from 41 to 44 AD. This is why we can date the episode precisely.  Agrippa, ‘a Roman in Caesarea, a Jew in Jerusalem’, sought to curry favour with both Rome and the Jews. In both cases, the Christians were enemies to be eliminated. To please the Jews, he has James, son of Zebedee, put to death and imprisons Peter during the Jewish Passover, the Week of Unleavened Bread. What interests Luke is the mission, not just Peter, who once again escapes miraculously, because for Luke the central point is evangelisation. The angel does not set them free to save them, but because ‘the world needs them’. God does not abandon the apostles: no blind tyranny can halt the proclamation of the Word of life. There is a parallel between Easter, the Exodus and the Passion. In a sense, the story of the Jewish Passover is repeated: Israel, enslaved and threatened with genocide, is miraculously freed by God. From century to century, the people remember that liberation is God’s work. And what of this paradox: can those called to proclaim and carry out God’s liberating work become complicit in a new form of domination? No Church is immune. Jesus died precisely because of the perversion of the religious power of his time: during Easter, the memorial of the liberating God, the Son of God is killed by the ‘defenders of God’. Yet it is the love and forgiveness of the ‘meek and humble of heart’ God that triumphs: Jesus rises from the dead. Now it is the young Church that faces religious and political power, just as Jesus did 10–15 years earlier, again during Passover in Jerusalem.  The angel says to Peter: ‘Get up quickly! Put on your belt, fasten your sandals…’. These are the very same words given to Israel on the night of the Exodus: ‘Gird your loins, put sandals on your feet, and take your staff in your hand. You shall eat it in haste’ (Ex 12:11). Luke is saying: God continues the work of liberation.  The entire narrative is structured on the model of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection: night, prison, soldiers, the ‘steamroller’ of domination. Peter sleeps passively, like Jesus in the sleep of death. For both of them, light dawns in the night: God is at work. And here is the conclusion: Jesus had said to Peter: ‘The forces of death—that is, of hatred—will not prevail’, and this teaches us that the miraculous is not an end in itself. God sets us free so that the mission may continue through the ages. The deliverance from Egypt, Christ’s Passover, Peter’s imprisonment: it is a single plan of God who saves in order to send us forth to proclaim the life that no one can destroy.

Responsorial Psalm (33/34)

In this psalm, we are guided by this central theme: God hears the cry of the poor and responds with the Spirit and with brothers and sisters.  After Peter’s deliverance, the psalm reminds us: ‘The angel of the Lord encamps round those who fear him, to deliver them’. And we realise that, whilst the whole Church was praying fervently for Peter in prison, the Lord set him free: ‘The poor cry out,’ says the psalm, ‘and the Lord hears…’. This is what faith is: daring to cry out to God, knowing that, in every circumstance, He hears our cry. The community cried out, and Peter was set free. Yet one question always remains: what if deliverance does not come? Jesus on the cross did not escape death. Peter himself, years later, would be imprisoned in Rome and executed. So was God no longer listening then? It is the question we keep asking ourselves: where is God when we suffer? What is the point of praying, and if we are not answered as we would like, does that mean we have prayed badly? Too many people say, ‘If you pray properly, everything will work out’, but we know that is not always the case. How many have prayed, made novenas and gone on pilgrimages for a healing that never came? This psalm offers us three answers. 1. God hears our cry. As at the burning bush: ‘I have seen the misery of my people in Egypt; I have heard their cry under their oppressors. I know their sufferings’ (Ex 3:7). The believer knows that the Lord is near in suffering, ‘on our side’. Psalm 33/34 says: ‘I sought the Lord, and he answered me… he delivered me. He listens, he saves; his angel encamps round us, he is a refuge’. 2. God responds by giving us his Spirit. “Ask, and it will be given to you… Which father… would give a snake to a son who asks for a fish?” (Luke 11:9–13). Jesus does not promise that everything will be resolved “as if by magic”. When we pray, God does not remove the problem, but fills us with his Spirit. With the Spirit, we can face our trials. Every prayer offered in faith opens us up to the transforming action of the Spirit. The answer to the desperate cry is therefore the inner strength of the Spirit to change the situation, to overcome the trial. “The poor man cries out; the Lord hears him: he saves him from all his troubles… I sought the Lord, and he answered me: he delivered me from all my fears.” Whatever blow may come, the believer knows they are heard, and their anguish can subside. 3. God raises up brothers and sisters around us.  Here is the second lesson from the burning bush: as soon as God says to Moses, ‘I have seen… I have heard the cry… I know their sufferings’, he stirs within Moses the impulse to free the people: “Go, I am sending you to Pharaoh; bring my people out of Egypt” (Ex 3:9–10).  Israel has experienced this pattern many times: suffering, a cry, prayer, and God raising up prophets and leaders to take their destiny back into their own hands. This is precisely the historical experience of Israel. 4. Faith is like a double word, a double cry: man cries out his misery to God, like Job. God listens and frees him from his anguish. And man speaks again to give thanks.  Israel’s vocation throughout the centuries has been to give voice to this polyphony of suffering, praise and hope, and throughout the course of its history nothing has been able to extinguish Israel’s hope. This is what characterises the believer:  ‘I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall ever be on my lips. I take pride in the Lord: let the poor hear and rejoice!’

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to Timothy (4:6–8, 17–18)

Not everyone agrees that the Letters to Timothy were written by Paul, but these lines are certainly his: indeed, they are his testament, his final farewell as a prisoner in Rome. He knows that he will be released only to be put to death. The ‘time of departure’ has come: he uses the Greek term anàlysis, ‘to cast off the moorings, to weigh anchor’.  Viewing life as a marathon, Paul takes stock using the sporting image dear to him: the long-distance runner crossing the finish line. The time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now all that remains is for me to receive the crown of righteousness.  In Rome, the victor did not receive a cup, but a laurel wreath. There is a crown for everyone, so Paul does not boast: he knows that the Lord, the righteous judge, will award it on that day; not only to me, but also to all those who have lovingly awaited his glorious appearing. God, the impartial judge, sees the intentions of the heart, and all the apostles, all the believers who have longed with love for the coming of Christ, will receive the crown. It is therefore not presumption, but unshakeable trust in God’s goodness. For the very strength to run comes from Him: ‘The Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that I might fulfil the proclamation of the Gospel and all the nations might hear it’. We must learn to expect everything from God: it is He who gives the strength to run, and it is He who gives the reward to all who run, for life is not a competitive race. Each in their own place, at their own pace; it is enough to ‘long with love for the coming of Christ’. Is this not the ‘blessed hope’ we profess at Mass: ‘We await your coming in glory’? For Paul, the definitive ‘manifestation’ of Christ has always been the horizon towards which to run, and he acknowledges that he has been forsaken by men, yet always sustained by the Lord. Like Christ on the cross and later Stephen, Paul forgives because it was precisely in his abandonment by men that he experienced the presence and strength of the Lord.  The final sentences are striking: he knows he will die, yet he says, ‘The Lord will deliver me from every evil and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom’. He is not, therefore, speaking of physical death, which he expects from one day to the next; he is speaking of the worst danger: giving up, abandoning the race, losing faithfulness. The Lord has preserved him from this ‘lion’. His faithfulness is not his own doing, but a strength he has received; and for him, death is merely biological, rather than the passage into glory, for which he is already singing the hymn of joy: ‘To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen’.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (16:13–19)

At Caesarea, a turning point is reached; an important shift takes place in the vision of Christ: from the powerful Jesus to Jesus, the Son of God, crucified.  For Matthew, the episode at Caesarea Philippi is a decisive stage: immediately afterwards, Jesus began to explain to the disciples that he had to go to Jerusalem, suffer greatly at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, be killed and rise again on the third day. ‘From this moment on’: thus a phase comes to an end, and what is surprising is that nothing new occurs in the titles, but everything is placed in a new light. Nothing unprecedented is said: Jesus gives himself the title ‘Son of Man’, which he has already used nine times in Matthew. Peter proclaims him ‘Son of God’, a title already used before. What is new is the leap in understanding: the ‘Son of Man’ in the Bible is the leader of God’s people, a title taken from the Book of Daniel: ‘Behold, one like a Son of Man was coming with the clouds of heaven… power, glory and a kingdom were given to him; all peoples, nations and languages served him. His power is eternal; his kingdom will never be destroyed’ (Dan 7:13–14). Daniel makes it clear that the ‘Son of Man’ is not merely an individual, but a people: ‘The saints of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess it for ever… the kingdom, the power and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole heaven shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High’ (Dan 7:18, 27) .  When Jesus applies this title to himself, he presents himself as the one who stands at the head of God’s people. ‘Son of God’, on the other hand, is a title that expresses trust, not power.  This title has already been used: in chapter 4, when the devil tempts Jesus: ‘If you are the Son of God’. He is right about the title, but wrong about its meaning: he imagines a powerful and invulnerable Son who uses his power for himself. For Jesus, ‘being the Son of God’ means trusting the Father completely and drawing strength from his Word.  After Jesus walks on the water, the disciples say to him: ‘Truly, you are the Son of God’. They were struck by his power over the sea. They were still one step away from understanding who Jesus truly is. What is new at Caesarea is that Peter proclaims, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’, not in response to a miracle; thus the ambiguity is dispelled and the journey towards true faith begins. “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah: it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.”  The novelty lies in the combination of the two titles: “Who is the Son of Man?” asks Jesus, and Peter replies, “He is the Son of God.” Jesus will make the same connection before the high priest: “You have said so. But I tell you: from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven” (Mt 26:63). Here there is no longer any room for error: God reveals himself not as power and majesty, but as Love entrusted into the hands of humankind. As soon as Peter discovers who Jesus is,  Jesus entrusts him with a mission  for the Church: ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church’. The Son of Man is a people, not an isolated individual.  On what does Christ—God made man—build his Church? On Peter, a fragile person whose only virtue is having listened to what the Father revealed to him. The sole pillar of the Church is faith in Jesus Christ.  ‘I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven’. This does not mean that Peter and his successors are omnipotent. It means that God is committed to them. If we remain in communion with the Church, we are in communion with God. The final reassurance is that Christ builds the Church, and herein lies the ultimate reason for our trust: Jesus says, ‘I will build my Church’. It is not our task to build it, but only to listen to what the living God wishes to reveal to us. And because it is the risen Christ, the Son of the living God, who builds it, we can be certain: “The gates of hell shall not prevail against it”.

+Giovanni D’Ercole