In the Gospel Jesus speaks to us of the answer that is given to the invitation of God — represented by a king — to take part in this marriage feast (cf. Mt 22:1-14). Many guests were invited but something unexpected happens: they refuse to take part in the celebration, they have other things to do; indeed, some of them show contempt for the invitation. God is generous to us, he offers us his friendship, his gifts, his joy, but often we do not welcome his words, we show greater interest in other things and put our own material concerns, our own interests, first. The king’s invitation even meets with hostile and aggressive reactions. Yet this does not impede his generosity. He is not discouraged and sends his servants out to invite many other people. The refusal of those invited first causes the invitation to be extended to everyone, even the poorest, the abandoned and disinherited. The servants gather together those they find and the wedding hall is filled: the king’s goodness knows no bounds and all are given the possibility of answering his call. However, there was one condition in order to attend this wedding feast: that the wedding garment be worn. And, on entering the hall, the king notices that someone has not wished to wear it and for this reason bars him from the banquet.

I would like to reflect for a moment on this point with a question: why did this man accept the king’s invitation, enter the banquet hall, find the door opened to him but not put on the wedding garment? What is this wedding garment? At the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, in Coena Domini, this year I mentioned a beautiful commentary on this parable by St Gregory the Great. He explains that the guest had accepted God’s invitation to take part in his banquet, that in a certain way he had faith which opened the door of the banquet hall to him, but he lacked something essential: the wedding garment, which is charity or love. And St Gregory adds: “Therefore each one of you in the Church who has faith in God has already taken part in the wedding feast, but cannot claim to wear the wedding garment unless he jealously guards the grace of love” (Homily 38, 9; PL 76, 1287). And this garment is woven symbolically on two looms of wood, one above and one below: love of God and love of neighbour (cf. ibid., 10: PL 76, 1288). We are all invited to be the Lord’s guests, to enter his banquet with faith, but we must put on and take care of the wedding garment: charity, to live in the profound love of God and neighbour.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Lamezia Terme 9 October 2011]

2. Jesus says: "The kingdom of heaven is like a king who made a wedding feast for his son" (Matthew 22: 2). The parable of the wedding feast presents the Kingdom of God as a royal - and therefore sovereign - initiative of God himself. It also includes the theme of love, and precisely of spousal love: the son for whom the father prepares the wedding feast is the bridegroom.

Although the bride is not called by name in this parable, the circumstances indicate her presence, and make it clear who she is. This will appear clearly in other New Testament texts, which identify the Church with the Bride (Jn 3:29; Rev 21:9; 2 Cor 11:2; Eph 5:23-27.29).

3. On the other hand, the parable clearly contains the indication of the Bridegroom, who is Christ, who implements the Father's new Covenant with humanity. This is a covenant of love, and the Kingdom of God itself appears as a communion (community of love), which the Son implements by the Father's will. The 'banquet' is the expression of this communion. In the context of the economy of salvation described by the Gospel, it is not difficult to see in this nuptial banquet a reference to the Eucharist: the sacrament of the new and eternal Covenant, the sacrament of Christ's nuptial wedding with humanity in the Church.

4. Although the Church as Bride is not mentioned in the parable, other elements are found in the context of the parable that recall what the Gospel tells us about the Church as the Kingdom of God. Thus the universality of the divine invitation: "The King says to his servants, 'Everyone you find, call them to the wedding'" (Matthew 22:9).

Among the guests at the wedding banquet of the Son, those chosen first are missing: those who were to be guests according to the tradition of the old Covenant. These refuse to go to the banquet of the new Covenant, citing various pretexts. Then Jesus makes the King, the master of the house, say: "Many are called, but few chosen" (Mt 22:14). Instead, the invitation is extended to many others, who crowd the banquet hall. The detail brings to mind that other cautionary word that Jesus had spoken: "Now I tell you that many will come from the east and the west and will sit at table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the children of the kingdom will be cast out" (Mt 8:11-12). Here we can clearly see how the invitation becomes universal: God intends to make the new Covenant in his Son no longer with the chosen people alone, but with the whole of humanity.

5. The sequel to the parable indicates that definitive participation in the wedding banquet is linked to certain essential conditions. It is not enough to have entered the Church to be sure of eternal salvation: "Friend, how could you enter here without a wedding garment?" (Matthew 22:12), the King asks one of the guests. The parable, which at this point seems to move from the problem of the historical rejection of the election by the people of Israel to the individual behaviour of whoever is called and the judgement that will be pronounced on him, does not specify the meaning of that 'garment'. But it can be said that the explanation is to be found in the whole of Christ's teaching. The Gospel, particularly the Sermon on the Mount, speaks of the commandment of love, which is the principle of divine life and perfection after the pattern of the Father: 'Be . . . perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect' (Mt 5:48). This is that 'new commandment', which, as Jesus teaches, consists in this: 'As I have loved you, so love one another' (Jn 13:34). It thus seems to be concluded that the "wedding garment", as a condition for attending the banquet, is precisely this love.

This is confirmed by another great parable, concerning the final judgement, and therefore of an eschatological nature. Only those who implement the commandment of love in works of spiritual and corporal mercy towards their neighbour can take part in the banquet of the Kingdom of God: "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world" (Mt 25:34).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 18 September 1991]

With the narrative of the Parable of the Wedding Banquet, in today’s Gospel passage (cf. Mt 22:1-14), Jesus outlines the plan that God envisaged for humanity. The king who “who gave a marriage feast for his son” (v. 2) is the image of the Father who prepared for the entire human family a wonderful celebration of love and communion around his only begotten Son. Twice the king sends his servants to call the invited guests, but they refuse; they do not want to go to the feast because they have other things to think about: fields and business. We often also put our interests and material things ahead of the Lord who calls us — and he calls us to a feast. But the king in the parable does not want the hall to remain empty, because he wants to offer the treasures of his kingdom. So he tells his servants: “Go therefore to the thoroughfares, and invite to the marriage feast as many as you find” (v. 9). This is how God reacts: when he is rejected, rather than giving up, he starts over and asks that all those found at the thoroughfares be called, excluding no one. No one is excluded from the house of God.

The original term that Matthew the Evangelist uses refers to the limits of the roads, or those points at which the city streets end and the paths begin that lead to the area of the countryside, outside the residential area, where life is precarious. It is to this humanity of the thoroughfares that the king in the parable sends his servants, in the certainty of finding people willing to sit at the table. Thus the banquet hall is filled with the “excluded”, those who are “outside”, those who never seemed worthy to partake in a feast, in a wedding banquet. In fact, the master, the king, tells the messengers: “Call everyone, both good and bad. Everyone!”. God even calls those who are bad. “No, I am bad; I have done many [bad things]...”. He calls you: “Come, come, come!”. And Jesus went to lunch with the publicans, who were public sinners; they were the bad ones. God is not afraid of our spirits wounded by many cruelties, because he loves us; he invites us. And the Church is called to reach the daily thoroughfares, that is, the geographic and existential peripheries of humanity, those places on the margins, those situations where the hopeless remnants of humanity camp out and live. It is a matter of not settling for comforts and the customary ways of evangelization and witnessing to charity, but rather of opening the doors of our hearts and our communities to everyone, because the Gospel is not reserved to a select few. Even those on the margins, even those who are rejected and scorned by society, are considered by God to be worthy of his love. He prepares his banquet for everyone: the just and sinners, good and bad, intelligent and uneducated.

Yesterday evening, I was able to make a phone call to an elderly Italian priest, a missionary in Brazil since youth, but always working with the excluded, with the poor. And he lives his old age in peace: he burned up his life with the poor. This is our Mother Church; this is God’s messenger who goes to the crossroads.

However, the Lord places one condition: to wear a wedding garment. Let us return to the parable. When the hall is full, the king arrives and greets the latest guests, but he sees one of them without a wedding garment, that kind of little cape that each guest received as a gift at the entrance. The people went as they were dressed, as they were able to dress; they were not wearing gala attire. But they were given a type of capelet, a gift, at the entrance. That man, having rejected the free gift, excluded himself: thus, the king could do nothing but throw him out. This man accepted the invitation but then decided that it meant nothing to him: he was a self-sufficient person; he had no desire to change or to allow the Lord to change him. The wedding garment — this capelet — symbolizes the mercy that God freely gives us, namely, grace. Without grace we cannot take a step forward in Christian life. Everything is grace. It is not enough to accept the invitation to follow the Lord; one must be open to a journey of conversion, which changes the heart. The garment of mercy, which God offers us unceasingly, is the free gift of his love; it is precisely grace. And it demands to be welcomed with astonishment and joy: “Thank you, Lord, for having given me this gift”.

May Mary Most Holy help us to imitate the servants in the Gospel parable by emerging from our frames of mind and from our narrow views, proclaiming to everyone that the Lord invites us to his banquet, in order to offer us his saving grace, to give us his gift.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 11 October 2020]

Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary  [15 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. For the Feast of the Assumption, I have prepared several texts because they are biblical passages that often recur in Marian feasts and therefore, I hope, may be useful for meetings, catechesis and meditation. I sincerely wish you all a holy and peaceful Feast of the Assumption of Mary.

 *First Reading from the Book of Revelation (11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab)

The first sentence we read is the conclusion of chapter 11 of Revelation, which heralds the end of time and God's victory over all the forces of evil, as already mentioned in verse 15: "Then loud voices in heaven said: 'Now the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.'" To express this message of victory, as always in the Book of Revelation, St John uses numerous images: we have seen, in succession, the Ark of the Covenant and three characters: the woman, the dragon, and then the newborn child. The Ark of the Covenant recalls the famous ark, the golden wooden chest that accompanied the people during the Exodus on Mount Sinai and constantly reminded the people of Israel of their Covenant with God. In truth, the ark had disappeared at the time of the exile to Babylon; it was said that Jeremiah had hidden it somewhere on Mount Nebo (2 Maccabees 2:8) and it was believed that it would reappear at the coming of the Messiah. John sees it reappear: 'The temple of God in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant appeared in the temple' (11:19). This is the sign that the end of time has come: God's eternal covenant with humanity is finally fulfilled once and for all. Then appears "a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth". Who does this woman represent? The Old Testament gives us the key, because the relationship between God and Israel is often described in nuptial terms, as in Hosea (2:21-22), while Isaiah develops the theme of marriage to the point of presenting the coming of the Messiah as a birth, since it is from Israel that the Messiah must be born (66:7-8). The woman described here represents the chosen people who give birth to the Messiah: a painful birth for the persecuted disciples of Christ, to whom John says: you are giving birth to a new humanity. The second character is the dragon, placed in front of the woman to devour her newborn son, which indicates the struggle of the forces of evil against God's plan. For the persecuted Christians to whom the Apocalypse is addressed, the word 'dragon' is not an exaggeration, and the striking description reveals the violence that afflicts them: the dragon is enormous, fiery red, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on its heads. The heads and horns represent intelligence and power, the diadems indicate imperial power that shows a real capacity to harm by dragging a third of the stars of the sky and casting them down to earth. However, only a third, so it is not a real victory, and the rest of the text will say that the power of evil is only temporary. And here is the infant: 'The woman gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all nations with an iron sceptre': this is clearly the Messiah and alludes to a phrase from Psalm 2: 'The Lord said to me, "You are my son, today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You will rule them with an iron sceptre' (Ps 2:7-9). 'The child was taken up to God and to the throne' symbolises the resurrection of Christ, whom Christians considered the Firstborn, now seated at the right hand of God. Christians live in a difficult world, but they are certain of God's protection: this is the meaning of the desert, which once again recalls the exodus, during which God never ceased to care for his people, and for this reason they can rest assured: if the dragon has failed in heaven, he cannot win on earth either. To the early Christians who were severely persecuted, the Apocalypse announces victory: "Now the salvation, the power and the kingdom of our God and the power of his Christ have come" (Rev 12:10).

Additional information  1. The liturgical reading does not include the end of Rev 11:19, but it is worth reading: the scene described (lightning, voices, thunder, earthquake) recalls the moment of the conclusion of the Covenant on Sinai. "Then there were flashes of lightning, voices, thunder, an earthquake and a heavy hailstorm" (Rev 11:19), to be compared with: "On the third day, in the morning, there were thunderclaps, flashes of lightning, a thick cloud on the mountain and a loud trumpet blast" (Ex 19:16). 

2. The Apocalypse is addressed to persecuted Christians to sustain them in their trials: its content, from beginning to end, is a message of victory; but everything is coded and must be deciphered. In fact, from the very first words, the author affirms that the dragon will not be able to hinder God's salvation. The prophecy of Balaam (Num 24:17) helps us to understand the iron sceptre of the Messiah. A later Christian reinterpretation applied the vision of the woman to the Virgin Mary, which is why the liturgy offers us this text on the feast of the Assumption of Mary, because she is the first to benefit from Christ's triumph. This struggle of the dragon against the woman recalls the account in Genesis: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, between your offspring and her offspring: he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel" (Gen 3:15). This text offers a beautiful definition of salvation: the power and kingship of our God (Rev 12:10).

*Responsorial Psalm (44/45:11-16)

Today we read only the second part of Psalm 44/45, which is addressed to the bride of the king of Jerusalem on her wedding day. The first part of the psalm speaks of the king himself, covered with praise for his virtues, who is promised a glorious kingdom and whom God himself has chosen. The second part, on the feast of the Assumption, addresses the young princess who is about to become the king's bride. On a first level, therefore, this psalm seems to describe a royal wedding: the king of Israel unites with a foreign princess to seal the alliance between two peoples, a frequent occurrence in Israel as elsewhere. Throughout human history, many political alliances have been sealed by marriages. But since the religion of Israel is an exclusive covenant with the one God, every young foreign woman who became queen in Jerusalem had to accept a special condition: she also had to marry the king's religion. Specifically, in this psalm, the princess who comes from Tyre — as we are told — and who is introduced to the court of the king of Israel, must renounce her idolatrous practices in order to be worthy of her new people and her husband: 'Listen, daughter, look, lend your ear: forget your people and your father's house'. This was a crucial issue at the time of King Solomon, who had married foreign women, and therefore pagans, and later, at the time of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel: we recall the great confrontation between the prophet Elijah and the numerous priests and prophets of Baal whom Jezebel had brought with her to the court of Samaria. But, for those who can read between the lines, this advice given to the princess of Tyre is actually addressed to Israel: the royal bridegroom described in the psalm is none other than God himself, and this "daughter of the king, all adorned for her husband" is the people of Israel admitted to intimacy with their God. Once again, we are struck by the boldness of the authors of the Old Testament in describing the relationship between God and his people, and, through them, with all humanity. The prophet Hosea was the first to compare Israel to a bride (Hos 2:16-18). After him, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, the second and third Isaiah developed the theme of the marriage between God and his people; and in their texts we find all the wedding vocabulary: affectionate names, the wedding dress, the wedding crown, fidelity (cf. Jer 2:2; Isa 62:5). Unfortunately, this bride, who was all too human, was often unfaithful, that is, idolatrous, and the prophets themselves defined the infidelities of the people as adultery, that is, as a return to idolatry. The language then becomes more precise: jealousy, adultery, prostitution, but also reconciliation and forgiveness, because God always remains faithful. Isaiah, for example, speaks of Israel's deviations as a disappointment in love in the famous song of the vineyard (Isaiah 5:1-7; 54:4-10). Idolatry occupies so much space in the prophets' discourses because the covenant between God and humanity, this plan of salvation, passes through Israel's faithfulness. Israel knows this: its election is not exclusive, but only by remaining faithful to the one God can it fulfil its vocation as witness to all nations. In Mary, the Bible dares to affirm that God has asked the whole of humanity to be his bride. By celebrating Mary's Assumption and her introduction into God's glory, we anticipate the entry of the whole of humanity, following in her footsteps, into intimacy with its God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor 15:20-27a)

Today's liturgy offers us Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection, in contrast to Adam's death. This gives us food for thought: what do Christ and Mary have in common? And what does Adam lack? The Gospel of the Visitation invites us to contemplate Mary as the one who believed and accepted God's plan without understanding everything. Her response to the Angel is a model for believers: "Let it be done to me according to your word (Lk 1:38), I am the handmaid of the Lord, ready to put my life at the service of God's work. In the Magnificat, Mary reveals her deepest concerns by re-reading her life in the light of God's great plan for his people, in favour of Abraham and his descendants forever, as he had promised to the fathers. From the beginning, in the Bible, it was understood that this is the only thing God asks of us: to be ready to say, 'Here I am'. Abraham, Moses, Samuel – called by God – knew how to respond in this way. And thanks to them, God's work was able to take a step forward each time. The New Testament offers Jesus Christ as an example who, in the story of the Temptations, responds to the seductions of the tempter with only words of faith. And if he teaches us to say, in the Our Father, 'Thy will be done', it is because this is his central thought, as he tells his disciples in the episode of the Samaritan woman: 'My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work' (Jn 4:34). In Gethsemane, he does not deny this: 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me! Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will!' (Mt 26:39). And the author of the Letter to the Hebrews sums up the whole life of Jesus as follows: 'When Christ came into the world, he said, "Here I am, I have come to do your will' (Heb 10:5-10). If Jesus submits to the will of the Father at all times and in all circumstances, it is because he trusts. We could also say of him: 'Blessed are those who have believed...'. His resurrection shows that the way of faith is truly the way of life, even if it passes through physical death. In his letters to the Romans and the Corinthians, Paul contrasts Christ's behaviour with that of Adam: Adam is the one to whom everything was offered – the tree of life, dominion over creation – but he did not believe in God's benevolence, refusing to submit to his commandments. The apostle does not want to tell us what would have happened if Adam had not sinned, but he wants to remind us that there is only one way that leads to life and brings us into the joy of God. Adam turns his back on the tree of life when he begins to doubt God, and Paul says this in the present tense because, for him, Adam is not a man of the past but a way of being human.  As the rabbis observe: Everyone is Adam to himself. We can then better understand Paul's statement that in Adam all die, that is, by behaving like Adam, we distance ourselves from God and separate ourselves from the true life that He wants to give us in abundance. On the contrary, choosing the path of trust, as Christ did, at any cost, is to enter into true life: "Eternal life is that they know you, the only true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3). To know, in biblical language, means to believe, to love, to trust. Paul asserts that in Christ all will return to life by grafting themselves onto him, that is, by adopting his way of life. Today's feast of the Assumption of Mary helps us to contemplate the fulfilment of God's plan for man when it is not hindered. Mary, fully human, did not act like Adam and expresses the destiny that every human being would have had if there had been no fall of our first parents. Like every human being, she experienced ageing and one day left this life, falling asleep in the Lord: this is the 'Dormition' of the Virgin. We can therefore affirm two simple truths: our body is not designed to last forever as it is on earth, and Mary, all pure and full of grace, fell asleep. However, Adam hindered God's plan, and the transformation of the body that we could have known, that is, the Dormition, became death with its accompanying suffering and fragility because death, which causes us so much suffering, entered the world because of sin. But where the power of death entered, God gives life: Jesus is killed by the hatred of men, but the Father raises him up, the first of the risen, who brings us into true life, where love reigns. Elizabeth says to Mary: "Blessed is she who believed..."; Jesus applies this beatitude to all who believe: "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice" (Lk 8:21).

NOTE When the Risen One appeared to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, the kingship of Christ was revealed to him as a certainty, and this certainty would permeate all his words and thoughts because, for him, Christ, the conqueror of death, was also the conqueror of all the forces of evil, the Messiah awaited for centuries. For this reason, in all his letters we recognise expressions of the messianic expectation of the time: "Everything will be accomplished when Christ hands over the Kingdom to God the Father, after destroying all the powers of evil"; or "He must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet", as we read in Psalm 110 (109).

From the Gospel according to Luke (1:39-56)

After the accounts of the Annunciation to Zechariah concerning the birth of John the Baptist and to Mary concerning the birth of Jesus, there follows the episode of the "Visitation," which has the appearance of a family story, but we must not be deceived: in reality, Luke is writing a profoundly theological work. We must give full weight to the central phrase: 'Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud voice'. It is the Holy Spirit who speaks to announce, from the very beginning of the Gospel, what will be the great news of Luke's entire account: the one who has just been conceived is the Lord. Elizabeth proclaims: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb": God is acting in you and through you, acting in the Son you are carrying in your womb and through him. As always, the Holy Spirit allows us to discover, in our lives and in the lives of others — of all others — the traces of God's work. Luke is certainly aware that Elizabeth's words, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb," echo at least in part a phrase from the Old Testament found in the Book of Judith (Jdt 13:18-19): when Judith returns from the enemy camp, where she has beheaded the general Holofernes, she is welcomed into her camp by Ozias, who says to her: "You are blessed among all women, and blessed is the Lord God." Mary is thus compared to Judith. And the parallel between the two phrases suggests two things: the repetition of the expression blessed among all women suggests that Mary is the victorious woman who guarantees humanity's definitive victory over evil; as for the final part (for Judith: blessed is the Lord God, for Mary: blessed is the fruit of your womb), it announces that the fruit of Mary's womb is the Lord himself. Therefore, this account by Luke is not a simple anecdote, and we can compare the power of Elizabeth's words with Zachariah's silence.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth has the strength to speak; Zechariah remains silent because he had doubted the words of the angel announcing the birth of John the Baptist. John the Baptist also expresses his joy: Elizabeth says that he 'leaped for joy' as soon as he heard Mary's voice, and he too is filled with the Holy Spirit, as the angel had announced to Zechariah: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah, your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth... he will be filled with the Holy Spirit from his mother's womb." Elizabeth asks herself, "Why is this happening to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" Here too there is a reference to an episode in the Old Testament: the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant in Jerusalem (2 Sam 6:2-11). After establishing himself as king in Jerusalem and building a palace worthy of the king of Israel, David decides to bring the Ark of the Covenant to the new capital. But he is torn between fervour and fear. At first, there is a joyful stage: "David gathered all the elite of Israel, thirty thousand men. He set out with all the people... to bring up the ark of God, on which the Name, the Name of the Lord of hosts who sits on the cherubim, is invoked..." But an accident occurs: a man who touches the ark without authorisation dies instantly. Fear then takes hold of David, who exclaims: "How can the ark of the Lord come to me?" The journey is interrupted: David prefers to leave the ark in the house of a certain Obed-Edom, where it remains for three months, bringing blessings upon that house. David reassures himself: "It was told to King David, 'The Lord has blessed the house of Obed-Edom and everything he has, because of the ark of God,'" and he brings the ark up to Jerusalem with great joy, dancing with all his might before the Lord. It is clear that Luke wanted to include many details in the story of the Visitation that recall this bringing up of the ark: the two journeys, that of the ark and that of Mary, take place in the same region, the mountains of Judea; the ark enters the house of Obed-Edom and brings blessings (2 Sam 6:12), Mary enters the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth and brings blessings; the ark remains with Obed-Edom for three months, Mary remains with Elizabeth for three months; David dances before the ark and John the Baptist leaps for joy before Mary. All this is not accidental. Luke invites us to contemplate in Mary the new Ark of the Covenant. And the ark was the place of God's Presence. Mary mysteriously carries this Presence of God within her: from now on, God dwells in our humanity. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." All this, thanks to Mary's faith: at Elizabeth's words, Mary sings the Magnificat.

NOTE ON THE MAGNIFICAT. In this page of Luke, we find many references to other biblical texts, and fragments of many psalms can be recognised in almost every sentence. This means that Mary did not invent the words of her prayer: to express her amazement at God's action, she simply takes up expressions already used by her ancestors in the faith. There is already a double lesson here: a lesson in humility, first of all. Faced with an exceptional situation, Mary simply uses the words of her people's prayer. Then there is a lesson in community spirit, we might say in synodal ecclesial spirit. None of the biblical quotations contained in the Magnificat have an individualistic character, but all concern the entire people. This is one of the great characteristics of biblical prayer, and therefore of Christian prayer: the believer never forgets that he belongs to a people and that every vocation, far from separating him, places him at the service of that people. As for the biblical roots of the Magnificat, it can be said that it is a re-reading of the entire history of salvation: God has done wonders throughout the ages and continues to act in the present.  A. In the past: He has looked upon the humility of his servant; He has done great things for Mary; He has shown the power of his arm; He has scattered the proud; He has brought down the mighty from their thrones; He has lifted up the lowly; He has filled the hungry with good things; He has sent the rich away empty-handed; He has come to the aid of Israel, his servant. B. In the present: Mary can proclaim, "All generations will call me blessed," and this is still true today. The Lord shows mercy from generation to generation. God's mercy is an ever-present reality for those who fear him, that is, for those who open themselves to his greatness. The Magnificat therefore teaches us to contemplate God's work throughout history, in the life of the people and in our own lives. Finally, the Magnificat is at the heart of Luke's theology: God overturns the order of things: the powerful are brought low, the humble are lifted up; the rich are emptied, the poor are filled. This 'turning upside down' is already present in the prophets (especially in Isaiah and the First Book of Samuel), but Luke places it at the centre of his Gospel, which is full of parables and stories in which God gives preference to the least, the little ones, sinners and the poor. This prayer is therefore profoundly revolutionary: not in the sense of a violent revolution, but of a spiritual and social revolution that passes through mercy, justice, humility, and faith.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [10 August 2025]

*First reading from the Book of Wisdom (18:6-9)

The first verse immediately introduces us to the atmosphere: the author indulges in a meditation on the "night of the Paschal liberation," the night of Israel's exodus from Egypt, led by Moses. Year after year, Israel celebrates the Passover meal to relive the mystery of God's liberation on that memorable night (Ex 12:42). Celebrating in order to relive: the verb "to celebrate" does not simply mean to commemorate, but "to remember," that is, to allow God to act again, which implies allowing oneself to be profoundly transformed. Even today, when the father of the family, during the Passover meal, introduces his son to the meaning of the feast, he does not say to him: "The Lord acted on behalf of our fathers," but "The Lord acted on my behalf when I came out of Egypt" (Ex 13:8). And the rabbis' comments confirm: "In every generation, each person must consider himself as if he had come out of Egypt." The celebration of the Easter night encompasses all the dimensions of the Covenant, both the thanksgiving for the liberation accomplished by God and the commitment to fidelity to the commandments. Liberation, the gift of the Law and the Covenant are a single event, as God communicated to Moses, and through him to the people, at the foot of Mount Sinai (Ex 19:4-6). In the few lines of the Book of Wisdom, we are presented with two dimensions: first of all, thanksgiving: "The night (of liberation) was foretold to our fathers so that they might be courageous, knowing well to what oaths they had given their allegiance" (v. 6). Here we speak of oaths, which are God's promises to his people: a lineage, a land, a happy life in that land (Gen 15:13-14; 46:3-4). "For your people were waiting for the salvation of the righteous, for the ruin of their enemies. For as you punished our adversaries, so you glorified us by calling us to yourself” (v. 7). This is the lesson: by choosing oppression and violence, the Egyptians brought about their own ruin. The oppressed people, on the other hand, received God’s protection. The second dimension of the celebration of the Easter night is personal and communal commitment: “ The holy children of the righteous offered sacrifices in secret and agreed to share both success and danger, singing the sacred praises of their fathers” (v. 9). The author draws a parallel between the practice of worship “offering sacrifices in secret” and the commitment to fraternal solidarity “agreeing to share success and danger” . The Law of Israel has always united the celebration of God's gifts and solidarity among the members of the people of the Covenant. Jesus will also establish the same link: "remembering him" means, in a single gesture, celebrating the Eucharist and placing oneself at the service of one's brothers and sisters, as he himself did on Holy Thursday evening by washing the feet of his disciples.

*Responsorial Psalm (32/33, 1.12, 18-19, 20.22)

 "Rejoice, O righteous, in the Lord; praise is fitting for the upright." From the very first verse, we know that we are in the Temple of Jerusalem, in the context of a liturgy of thanksgiving. Please note: 'righteous' and 'upright' do not indicate attitudes of pride or self-satisfaction, but the humble attitude of those who enter into God's plan because in the Bible, righteousness (for us it would be holiness) is not a moral quality but a gift. "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he has chosen as his inheritance" (v. 12). The Covenant is God's plan, that is, the free choice by which he wanted to entrust his mystery to a people. It is therefore natural to give thanks for this gift. This is not arrogant pride, but legitimate pride, the awareness of the honour God has bestowed on them by choosing them for a mission, and it is our pride in being incorporated through baptism into his people on mission in the world. Trust comes from faith, and the following verse expresses this experience of faith in another way: The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love' (v. 18). This is a splendid definition of 'fear of God' in the biblical sense: not fear, but total trust. The juxtaposition of the two parts of the verse is interesting: 'those who fear him' and 'those who hope in his love'.  The fear of God is, in reality, trust in God's love, not servile fear, but a response of love, as Psalm 102/103 says: "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him." The only true way to respect God is to love him, as is clearly stated in Israel's profession of faith: "Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Deut 6:4). I return to the central verse: "The eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love." God watched over Israel like a father during its journey through the desert. Without divine intervention, the Jews, freed from Egypt, would not have survived either the crossing of the Sea or the trials of the desert. At the burning bush, the Lord promised Moses that he would accompany his people to freedom, and he kept his promise. When we read "the Lord," we are always referring to the famous tetragrammaton YHWH, which Jews do not pronounce out of respect and which means, "I am, I will be with you, every moment of your life." Ultimately, it refers to the breath of human beings.  The psalmist continues: "To deliver him from death and feed him in time of famine" (v. 19), which recalls the Book of Deuteronomy, where it is said that the Lord watched over his people "as the apple of his eye". The psalm continues: "The Lord is our help and our shield. May your love be upon us, Lord, as we put our hope in you" (vv. 20, 22). This trust is not always easy, and Israel has wavered between trust and rebellion, constantly attracted by idols. This psalm is ultimately a call to firm faith. The author is well aware of his people's uncertainties. That is why he invites them to rediscover the certainty of faith, the only thing capable of generating lasting happiness. He composed this psalm of twenty-two verses, like the letters of the Hebrew alphabet, to indicate that the Law is a treasure that guides life from A to Z.

*Second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (11:1-2, 8-19)

 'By faith': this expression recurs like a refrain in chapter 11 of the Letter to the Hebrews, and the author even goes so far as to say that he does not have enough time to list all the believers of the Old Testament whose faith enabled God's plan to be fulfilled. The text proposed to us this Sunday focuses only on Abraham and Sarah, models of true faith. It all began for them with God's first call (Genesis 12): 'Leave your country, your homeland and your father's house, and go to the land I will show you'. And Abraham obeyed, the text tells us, in the most beautiful sense of the word: to obey in the Bible means free submission of those who accept to trust because they know that when God commands, it is for their good and for their liberation, knowing that God wants only our good, our happiness. Abraham set out for a country he was to inherit: to believe means to live everything we possess as a gift from God. He set out without knowing where he was going: if we knew where we were going, there would be no need to believe. Believing is trusting without understanding and without knowing everything; accepting that the path is not the one we planned or desired because it is God who decides it. Thy will be done, not mine, said Jesus much later, who in turn became obedient, as St. Paul says, even to death on the cross (Phil 2). "By faith Sarah, though past the age of childbearing (90 years old), was able to become a mother." It is true that at first she laughed at such an incredible announcement, but then she accepted it as a promise and trusted, listening to the Lord's response to her laughter: "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" said God. "At the appointed time I will return to you, and Sarah will have a son" (Gen 18:14). And what was humanly impossible came to pass. Another woman, Mary, centuries later, heard the announcement of the birth of the promised son, and accepted it, believing that nothing is impossible for God (Lk 1). By faith, Abraham faced the incredible trial of offering Isaac as a sacrifice, but even there, although he did not understand, he knew that God's command was given out of love: it was the path of the promise, a dark but sure path. From a human point of view, the promise of a descendant and the request for the sacrifice of Isaac are in stark contradiction, but Abraham, the believer, precisely because he had received the promise of a descendant through Isaac, can go so far as to offer him in sacrifice because he believes that God cannot deny his promise. When Isaac asked, 'Father, I see the fire and the wood... but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?', Abraham replied with complete confidence, 'God will provide, my son'. The path of faith is dark, but it is sure. And he was not lying when he said to his servants along the way, 'Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there to worship, and then we will come back to you.' He did not know what lesson God wanted to teach him about the prohibition of human sacrifice, he did not know the outcome of the test, but he trusted. Centuries later, Jesus, the new Isaac, believed that he could rise from the dead, and he was heard, as the Letter to the Hebrews says. Here we have an extraordinary lesson in hope! It is faith that saves us, and the author of the Letter to the Hebrews comments that the plan of salvation is fulfilled thanks to those who believe and allow the promise to be fulfilled through them.

NOTE In Hebrew, the verb 'to believe' is aman (from which our 'amen' derives), a term that implies solidity, firmness; to believe means 'to hold fast', to have complete trust, even in doubt, discouragement or anguish.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (12:32-48)

 This text begins with a word of hope that should give us all the courage we need:

"Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the Kingdom." In other words: this Kingdom has certainly been given to you; believe it even if appearances seem to say otherwise.  But Jesus does not stop there: he immediately describes the demands that arise from this promise. For "to whom much is given, much will be required; to whom much is entrusted, much more will be asked." The only dominant thought in the heart of the believer is the fulfilment of God's promise, which frees us from all other concerns:

"Sell what you have and give it to the poor; make yourselves purses that do not grow old, a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Jesus explains what he expects of us with three short parables: the first is that of the servants waiting for their master's return; the second, shorter one, compares his return to the unexpected arrival of a thief; the third describes the arrival of the master and the judgment he pronounces on his servants. The key word is "service": God honours us by taking us into his service, by making us his collaborators. Later, Saint Peter, who understood Jesus' message well, would say to the Christians of Asia Minor: "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some believe, but he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to be lost, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). He even goes so far as to say: "You who are waiting, hasten the coming of the day of God" (2 Pet 3:12). It is our responsibility to "hasten" the coming of the Kingdom of God, as we say in the Our Father: "Thy Kingdom come!" It will come all the more quickly the more we believe and commit ourselves to it. Thus, all our efforts, even the most modest, in a mysterious way, are a collaboration in the coming of the Day of God: "Blessed is that servant whom the master, on his arrival, finds doing so. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions."  "Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he returns. Truly, I say to you, he will gird himself and have them sit at table, and he will come and serve them." On closer inspection, this happens every Sunday at Mass: the Lord invites us to his table and he himself nourishes us, renewing us with the energy we need to continue our service.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [3 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. In the midst of the holiday season, the Word of God challenges us to give true meaning to life.

*First Reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes (1:2; 2:21-23)

 When reading the book of Qohelet (Qohelet means 'one who calls' or 'the teacher who speaks before the assembly'), also known as Ecclesiastes, one might think that the author is a philosopher; instead, he is a preacher and one of the most fascinating and uncomfortable personalities of biblical wisdom. It is true that his book is classified among the 'wisdom books', but the biblical books known as wisdom books are not philosophical essays in the manner of the pagans or agnostics. They are first and foremost books written by believers for believers; in a sense, they are catechisms. 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity': these are the first words of the book of Qohelet, and perhaps also what best sums it up. 'Vanity' literally translated would be 'breath of breath', something evanescent, and who can boast of holding a breath between their fingers? Another similar expression, very dear to the author, is 'running after the wind' (1:14). In other words, everything to which we devote our thoughts, dreams, energies, activities and time is ephemeral, temporary, fleeting. Everything, except one thing. What is it? The author keeps the mystery alive and only at the end of the book does he reveal that the only important thing in the world is the search for God. In the end, we understand that this is not a disillusioned philosophical meditation, but a vigorous preaching in a veiled form. In the meantime, he describes in a thousand ways the many human activities as futile efforts, a chasing after the wind to grasp a breath between one's fingers. To better argue his point, he has King Solomon himself speak as a man of desires and power, crowned with glory, but a glory that had no future. In fact, several phases mark his life: before becoming king, we know nothing about him except his thirst for power; as king, he was initially admirable for his wisdom and humility, but in the end he fell into idolatry and became a slave to his love of wealth. Qohelet has Solomon speak as if he were taking stock of his reign: a reign of power and wealth (Jesus will say of him: 'Solomon in all his glory'). He had wisdom and sought the great works that fascinate the powerful and wise of the time; all the pleasures of life, and in the end, the failure of his kingdom. With Rehoboam, his son, incapable of wise politics, the kingdom was divided, and worse still, idolatry regained the upper hand and in a few years Solomon's glory vanished. What we read today refers to him: "He who has worked with wisdom and knowledge will leave it to another who has not worked for it" (2:21). Rehoboam, his son and successor to the throne of Jerusalem, seriously lacked wisdom, and from there arose the schism that divided David's kingdom forever. In light of this experience, Qohelet affirms: "All is vanity." We read the same thing in Psalm 103: 'Man: his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field: a breath of wind, and he is no more' (15-16).  In Qohelet there is a true language of faith: God alone knows all mysteries, and every search for happiness outside of Him is vain because only He possesses the keys to true wisdom. Ultimately, even if we do not understand all the mysteries of existence, we know that everything is a gift from God. Those who trust in God will never be disappointed, and wisdom consists in abandoning oneself to God and observing His commandments is the only way to happiness: "Whoever keeps the commandment will know no evil." (Qo 8:5).  In the end, true wisdom is the humility of living life as a gift from God: "Every man who eats, drinks and enjoys well-being in all his labour: it is a gift from God. (Qo 3:13). 

*Responsorial Psalm 89/90 (3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14-17)

The psalm takes us to the context of a ceremony of supplication for forgiveness at the Temple in Jerusalem after the Babylonian exile: the prayer "Return, Lord, how long? Have mercy on your servants" (v. 13) is typical of a penitential liturgy.  This psalm is therefore a prayer asking for conversion: 'Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a wise heart' (v. 12). Conversion consists in living according to God's wisdom in order to know the true measure of our days. It is no coincidence that this psalm is offered to us as an echo of the first reading, from the book of Qohelet, a meditation on true wisdom, while the psalm offers a splendid definition of wisdom as the true measure of our days, a healthy lucidity about our condition as human beings. Born without knowing why and destined to die without even being able to foresee when: this is our destiny, and this is the meaning of the first verses we have read: You turn man back to dust when you say, 'Return, O children of men!' (v.3), that is, return to the earth from which I have drawn you. This does not create sadness but serenity because our misery rests on the greatness and stability of God: 'A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, like a watch in the night' (v. 4). God gives us security because He wants only our good. However, trouble arises when we lose clarity about our misery, as chapters 2 and 3 of Genesis clearly illustrate, recounting the error of Adam, a symbolic character whose behaviour is considered a model of what not to do. "Adam did this or that" does not describe a hypothetical first man, but a type of behaviour, and in this light, this psalm is in harmony with the first reading, where Qohelet has Solomon, the wise king, speak at the beginning, but then seduced by luxury, power, and women who made him an idolater. In the second part of his reign, he behaved like Adam, who turned away from God's wisdom. This psalm invites us to rediscover the wisdom and humility of the young Solomon, because true wisdom is the awareness of man's smallness, which is never humiliating: a trusting, filial smallness. The conclusion is splendid: 'establish the work of our hands' (v. 17), which shows the cooperation between God and man: man works, God gives solidity and meaning to human work.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (3:1-5, 9-11)

Paul first makes a distinction between "things above" and "things on earth", two different ways of living: behaviours inspired by the Holy Spirit and those that are not. "Things above" are kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, mutual forgiveness, living according to the Spirit, and this is the behaviour of the baptised. "Things on earth" are debauchery, impurity, unbridled passion, greed, covetousness, behaviour not inspired by the Spirit. Paul establishes the link between baptism and the way of life: "if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above" (v. 1). He says "you have been raised," but then he says "you have died" (v. 2), and the words do not have the same meaning for him as they do for us. For Paul, from the resurrection of Christ onwards, nothing is as it was before. To be risen means precisely to be dead to the world and born to a life according to the Spirit, what he calls the realities above. The Christian is a "transformed person who lives in the manner of Christ," and Paul calls him "the new man." He does not despise "the things of the earth"; on the contrary, he will say shortly afterwards: "Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God through him" (3:17). It is not, therefore, a question of living a different life from the ordinary one, but of living it differently: not rejecting this world, but living it already as a seed of the Kingdom, where all men are brothers, as he explains in his letter to the Galatians (3:26-28) and repeats at the end of this Sunday's passage from the letter to the Colossians: "There is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free, but Christ is all and in all." The community of Colossae probably had the same problems as the Galatians and, in particular, the great question that agitated the early Christian communities, namely whether non-Jews who became Christians should take on Jewish practices: dietary rules, ritual ablutions, and above all circumcision. There were circumcised Christians and uncircumcised Christians, and some Jews insisted on circumcision. The answer to the Galatians and Colossians was the same: baptism makes everyone brothers and sisters, and all forms of exclusion are outdated; what matters is being a disciple of Christ. 

NOTE. Some exegetes believe that this letter attributed to Paul was not actually written by him; Paul, in fact, never visited Colossae: it was Epaphras, one of his disciples, who founded that community. According to a very common practice in the first century (called pseudepigraphy), it is hypothesised (but this is only a hypothesis) that a disciple very close to Paul's thinking addressed the Colossians under the authority of the apostle's name because the moment was serious. If this hypothesis is correct, it is not surprising to find in this writing phrases taken literally from Paul and others that show how theological reflection continued to develop in Christian communities. Jesus had said, 'The Spirit will guide you to the whole truth.' And in previous Sundays, we have already seen theological developments that are not yet found in Paul's own writings.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (12:13-21)

Jesus' response seems abrupt: "Who made me your judge or mediator?" However, as a good teacher, Jesus takes the opportunity to draw a lesson that he explains well with this parable. A man who has become rich through business is thinking about how best to enjoy his wealth; he thinks about demolishing his warehouses and building bigger ones to store all his grain and goods, and then he says to himself: 'My soul, you have many goods stored up for many years; rest, eat, drink and be merry' (v. 19). Unfortunately, he has forgotten that his life does not depend on him, and in fact he dies that very night. He thinks he is rich, but true wealth is not what he imagines. To better understand Jesus' teaching, we need to remember what he said earlier: "Be careful and keep away from all greed, because even if someone has an abundance, his life does not depend on what he has" (v. 13) and, even though it is not in this Sunday's liturgical reading, he concludes: "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing' (Lk 12:22-23). Jesus' teaching is not new; it takes up themes already familiar in the Old Testament. Ben Sira said that those who become rich do not know how long they have to live, then they will leave their possessions to others and die (cf. Sir 11:18-19); and in this Sunday's first reading, Qohelet offered similar reflections: "What profit does a man gain from all his toil and from the cares of his heart, with which he toils under the sun?" (Qo 2:22), returning several times to the same theme (cf. Qo 5:9...15). The prophet Isaiah is very incisive in accusing the people of Jerusalem of being dazed by pleasures instead of listening to God's call to conversion (cf. Is 22:13), and the book of Job repeats: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there" (Job 1:21), a phrase still recited today in Israel at every funeral. All these phrases sound like reminders of the reality of life. Jesus denounces senseless behaviour: "Fool! This very night your life will be demanded of you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?" (v. 20) and the parable ends: "So is the one who stores up treasure for himself and is not rich in God." This implies two things: Never forget that riches come from God and belong to him because he entrusts them to us to put them at the service of the Kingdom of God. Life is short, but precisely for this reason, let us hurry to put it to good use! Jesus responds sharply to the man asking for his inheritance: that man has his priorities wrong because the most precious inheritance is the faith we have received from our fathers. And every time Jesus responds sharply (to his mother at Cana (Jn 2:4) and to Peter in Caesarea (Mt 16:23), it is because his mission is at stake.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [27 July 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! This time I have taken a little longer to present some important details of the readings in the NOTES, which are useful for personal meditation and for lectio divina during this holiday period.

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (18:20-32)

This text marks a step forward in the idea that men have of their relationship with God: it is the first time that one dares to imagine that a man can intervene in God's plans. Unfortunately, the liturgical reading does not allow us to hear the previous verses in which we read that immediately after the encounter at the Oaks of Mamre, Abraham takes his leave, accompanying the three mysterious men to contemplate Sodom from above. The Lord, speaking to himself, says: 'Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, when Abraham is to become a great and powerful nation, and all the nations of the earth will be blessed in him?' (vv. 17-19). God takes the covenant he has just made very seriously, and it is here that what we might call 'the most beautiful negotiation in history' begins: Abraham, armed with all his courage, intercedes to try to save Sodom and Gomorrah from a punishment they certainly deserve. In essence, he asks if God really wants to destroy these cities even if he finds at least fifty righteous people, or only forty-five, forty, thirty, twenty, ten. What audacity! Yet, apparently, God accepts that man should act as his interlocutor: at no point does the Lord seem impatient and, indeed, he responds each time exactly as Abraham hoped. Perhaps God appreciates that Abraham has such a high opinion of his justice. In this regard, it can be noted that this text was written at a time when people were beginning to become aware of individual responsibility: in fact, Abraham would be scandalised by the idea that the righteous could be punished together with sinners and for their sins. We are far from the time when an entire family was eliminated for the sins of one. The great discovery of individual responsibility dates back to the prophet Ezekiel and the period of the Babylonian exile, i.e. the 6th century BC. We can therefore formulate a hypothesis about the composition of the chapter read today and last Sunday: it is a text written at a rather late date, although it derives from perhaps much older stories, whose oral or written form was not yet definitive. God loves it when people intercede for their brothers and sisters, as we can see with Moses: when the people made a 'golden calf' to worship immediately after swearing never to follow idols again. Moses intervened to beg God to forgive them, and God, who was waiting for nothing else, hastened to forgive them (Ex 32). Moses interceded for the people for whom he was responsible; Abraham, on the other hand, intercedes for pagans, and this is logical, after all, since he is the bearer of a blessing for all the families of the earth. This text is a great step forward in discovering the face of God, but it is only a stage, still within a logic of accounting: how many righteous people will it take to obtain forgiveness for sinners? The final theological step will be to discover that with God it is never a matter of payment. His justice has nothing to do with a scale, whose two pans must be perfectly balanced, and this is what St. Paul will try to make us understand in this Sunday's passage from the Letter to the Colossians. This text from Genesis is also a beautiful lesson on prayer, which is offered to us on the day when Luke's Gospel recounts Jesus' teaching on prayer, beginning with the Our Father, the plural prayer par excellence, which invites us to open our hearts to the whole of humanity. 

NOTE: Development of the notion of God's justice in the Bible: In the beginning, it was considered normal for the whole group to pay for the fault of one: see the case of Achan in the time of Joshua (Joshua 7:16-25). In a second phase, it is imagined that each person pays for himself. Here, there is a new step forward: if ten righteous people are found, they can save an entire city. Jeremiah dares to go further: a single righteous person can obtain forgiveness for all: 'Go through the streets of Jerusalem, search for one man who acts justly... I will forgive the city' (Jer 5:1). Ezekiel also reasons in these terms: 'I sought for a man among them who would stand in the breach before me... but I found none' (Ezek 22:30). It is with the book of Job, among others, that the final step is taken: when it is finally understood that God's justice is synonymous with salvation, not punishment. Jeremiah even goes so far as to invoke unconditional forgiveness, based solely on God's greatness: "If our sins testify against us, act, Lord, for the honour of your name!" (Jer 14:7-9). Before God, just like Jeremiah, Abraham understood that sinners have no other argument than God himself! Finally, note Abraham's optimism, which fully earns him the title of "father of faith": he continues to believe that all is not lost, that not all are lost. Even in a city as horrible as Sodom, he is convinced that there are at least ten good men!

Responsorial Psalm (137/138), 1-2a, 2bc-3, 6-7ab, 7c-8)

This psalm is a song of thanksgiving for the Covenant that God offers to humanity: the Covenant made first with Israel, but also the Covenant open to all nations, and Israel's vocation is precisely to bring other nations into it. Three times 

: 'I give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart', 'I give thanks to your name for your love and your faithfulness', and – in verse 4, which we do not hear this Sunday – 'May all the kings of the earth give thanks to you'. Here we see a progression: first, it is Israel speaking on its own behalf: "I give you thanks, Lord, with all my heart"; then the reason is specified: "I give thanks to your name for your love and your faithfulness"; finally, it is the whole of humanity that enters into the Covenant and gives thanks: "May all the kings of the earth give thanks to you". 

Since we are talking about the Covenant, it is normal that there are allusions to the experience of Sinai and echoes of the great discovery of the burning bush when God told Moses that he had seen the misery of his people and had come down to free them (Ex 2:23-24). Echoing this, the psalm sings: "On the day I called, you answered me" (v. 3). Another reference to God's revelation at Sinai is the expression "your love and faithfulness" (v. 2): these are the same words with which God defined himself before Moses (Ex 34:6). The phrase "Your right hand saves me" (v. 7) is, for Jews, an allusion to the exodus from Egypt. The "right hand" is, of course, the right hand, and since Moses' song after the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea (Ex 15), it has become customary to speak of the victory that God obtained with a strong hand and a powerful arm (Ex 15:6, 12). The expression "Lord, your love is forever" (v. 8) also evokes all of God's work, particularly the Exodus, as in Psalm 135/136, whose refrain is: "For his love is forever." Another link between this psalm and Moses' song is the connection between the entire epic of the Exodus, the Covenant at Sinai, and the Temple in Jerusalem. Moses sang:

"The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. This is my God, and I will praise him, my father's God, and I will exalt him" (Ex 15:1-2, 13), and the psalm echoes:

"Not to the gods, but to you I will sing, I bow down toward your holy temple" (vv. 1-2) because the

Temple is the place where all God's work on behalf of his people is remembered. However, God's presence is not limited to a stone temple, but that temple, or what remains of it, is a permanent sign of that presence. And even today, wherever they are in the world, every Jew prays facing Jerusalem, towards the holy temple mountain, because it is the place chosen by God, in the time of King David, to offer his people a sign of his presence. Finally, God's greatness does not crush man, at least not those who recognise their own smallness: "The Lord is exalted, but he looks upon the humble; he recognises the proud from afar" (v. 6). This too is a great biblical theme: his greatness is manifested precisely in his goodness towards the smallness of man (cf. Wis 12:18) and Psalm 113/112: "He raises the weak from the dust, lifts the poor from the ash heap" and in the Magnificat: "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the humble". The believer knows this and is amazed: God is great, he does not crush us, but on the contrary, he makes us grow.

These parallels, that is, the influence of Moses' song, the experience of Sinai from the burning bush to the exodus from Egypt and the Covenant, are found in many other psalms and biblical texts.

This shows how much this experience was – and remains – the foundation of Israel's faith.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Colossians (2:12-14)

God has cancelled the document written against us (Col 2:14). Paul here refers to a widespread practice when money was borrowed: it was customary for the debtor to give the creditor a 'debt acknowledgement document'. Jesus also used this image in the parable of the dishonest steward. On the day his master threatens to fire him, he thinks of making friends for himself; to this end, he summons his master's debtors and says to each one, 'Here is your debt document; change the amount. Did you owe a hundred sacks of wheat? Write eighty' (Lk 16:7). As he often does, Paul uses the language of everyday life to express a theological thought. His reasoning is this: because of the seriousness of our sins, we can consider ourselves debtors to God. Moreover, in Judaism, sins were often called "debts"; and a Jewish prayer from the time of Jesus said: "In your great mercy, cancel all the documents that accuse us." Well, anyone who looks up at the cross of Christ discovers the extent of God's mercy for his children: with Him, it is not a matter of keeping accounts: 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do' is the prayer of the Son; but it is He himself who said, 'Whoever has seen me has seen the Father'. The body of Christ nailed to the cross shows that God is like this: He forgets all our wrongs, all our faults towards Him. His forgiveness is displayed before our eyes: "They will look on him whom they have pierced," said the prophet Zechariah (Zech 12:10; Jn 19:37). It is as if the document of our debt had been nailed to the cross of Christ. However, we are still surprised because this whole passage is written in the past tense: "buried with Christ in baptism, you have also been raised with him... with him God has given you life... forgiving us all our sins and cancelling the document written against us... he took it away by nailing it to the cross". 

NOTE Paul wants to affirm that the salvation of the world is already accomplished: this 'already-realised' salvation is one of the great themes of the Letter to the Colossians. The Christian community is already saved through baptism; it already participates in the heavenly reality. Here too we see an evolution with respect to some of Paul's earlier letters, such as 'We have been saved, but in hope' (Rom 8:24); "If we have been united with him in death, we will also be united with him in resurrection" (Rom 6:5). While the Letter to the Romans places the resurrection in the future, the Letters to the Colossians and Ephesians speak in the past tense, both of burial with Christ and of resurrection as an already present reality. “When we were dead in our sins, he made us alive with Christ – by grace you are saved –; with him he raised us up and seated us in the heavens in Christ Jesus” (Eph 2:5-6). “You were buried with Christ, with him you were also raised... You were dead... but God gave you life with Christ.” For Paul, baptism is like a second birth, and his insistence that salvation has already taken place through birth into a totally new life is probably also linked to the historical context: behind many expressions in the Letter, we can glimpse a climate of tension and conflict. The community in Colossae seems to be under dangerous influences, against which Paul wants to warn them: "Let no one deceive you with seductive words" (Col 2:4)... "Let no one trap you with empty and deceptive philosophy" (Col 2:8)... "Let no one judge you in matters of food and drink, or in regard to festivals or sabbaths" (Col 2:16). Thus, a recurring problem reappears in the background: how does one enter into salvation? Must one continue to strictly observe all Jewish law? Paul answers: through faith. This theme is present in many letters, and we find it clearly here as well (v. 12): buried in baptism with Christ... raised... through faith in the power of God who raised him from the dead. The Letter to the Ephesians repeats it even more clearly: 'It is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God. It is not the result of works, so that no one can boast.' (Eph 2:8-9) Life with Christ in the glory of the Father is not only a future hope, but a present experience of believers: an experience of new life, of divine life. From now on, if we want, Christ lives in us; and we are enabled to live the divine life of the risen Christ in our daily lives! This means that none of our old ways of acting is any longer an inevitable condemnation. Love, peace, justice, and sharing are possible. And if we do not believe this is possible, then we are saying that Christ has not saved us! Be careful! Until now, we have always spoken of the Letter to the Colossians as if Paul were the author; in reality, many exegetes believe that it was written by a disciple very close to Paul, inspired by his thought, but from a later generation. 

From the Gospel according to Luke (11:1-13)

It may come as a surprise, but Jesus did not invent the words of the Lord's Prayer: they come directly from Jewish liturgy and, more profoundly, from the Scriptures. Starting with the vocabulary, which is very biblical: Father, name, holy, kingdom, bread, sins, temptations... Let us begin with the first two questions: with great pedagogical skill, they are addressed first of all to God and teach us to say 'your name', 'your kingdom'. They educate our desire and commit us to collaborate in the growth of his kingdom. The Our Father, probably taught by Jesus in Aramaic, 'Abun d'bashmaya... nethqadash shimukin', which recalls liturgical Hebrew, is a school of prayer, or if you prefer, a method for learning to pray: let us not forget the disciple's request that immediately precedes it: 'Lord, teach us to pray' (v. 1). Well, if we follow Jesus' method, thanks to the Lord's Prayer, we will end up knowing how to speak the language of God, whose first word is Father. The invocation 'Our Father' immediately places us in a filial relationship with God and was already present in the Old Testament: 'You, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from everlasting'. (Is 63:16). The first two questions concern the name and the kingdom. "Hallowed be thy name": in the Bible, the name represents the person himself; to say that God is holy (kadosh / shmokh in Aramaic - separate) is to affirm that He is "beyond everything, and this request means: "Make yourself known as God". "Thy kingdom come": repeated every day, this question will transform us into workers in the Kingdom. God's will, as we know, is that humanity, gathered in his love, should become queen of creation: 'Fill the earth and subdue it' (Gen 1:27), and believers await the day when God will be recognised as king over all the earth, as the prophet Zechariah announced: 'The Lord will be king over all the earth' (Zech 14:9). Our prayer, our method of learning the language of God, will make us people who desire above all else that God be recognised, adored and loved, that everyone recognise him as Father, passionate about evangelisation and the Kingdom of God. The next three questions concern daily life: "Give us", "Forgive us", "Do not abandon us to temptation". God never ceases to do all this, and we place ourselves in an attitude of acceptance of his gifts. "Give us this day our daily bread" (τὸν ἐπιούσιον): the manna that fell every morning in the desert taught the people to trust day by day, and this request invites us not to worry about tomorrow and to receive food each day as a gift from God: here bread has various meanings, including the Eucharistic bread, as I will explain in the Note, and the plural "our bread" invites us to share the Father's concern to feed all his children. "Forgive us our sins, for we too forgive everyone who is indebted to us": God's forgiveness is not conditioned by our behaviour, and fraternal forgiveness does not buy God's forgiveness, but is the only way to enter into the divine forgiveness that is already given: those who have a closed heart cannot receive God's gifts. "Do not abandon us to temptation." Here there is a translation problem, because – once again – Hebrew grammar is different from ours: the verb used in the Hebrew prayer means "do not let us enter into temptation." This refers to every temptation, of course, but above all to the most serious one, the temptation to doubt God's love. The whole of life is involved in the Lord's Prayer: speaking the language of God means knowing how to ask, and asking is not only permitted but recommended because it is an exercise in humility and trust. Nor are these just any requests: bread, forgiveness, strength against temptation. All the requests are in the plural, and each of us makes them on behalf of the whole of humanity. Ultimately, there is a close connection between the first petitions of the Lord's Prayer and the subsequent ones: we ask God for what we need to fulfil our baptismal mission: Give us all we need – bread and love – and protect us, so that we may have the strength to proclaim your Kingdom. The Gospel immediately follows with the parable of the importunate friend who invites us never to stop praying, certain that the heavenly Father always gives the Holy Spirit to those who ask him (v. 13), so that even if our problems are not solved with a wave of a magic wand, we will no longer experience them alone but together with Him.

NOTE 

1 – Regarding 'bread' in verse 3: the same adjective is found in a prayer in the Book of Proverbs: 'Give me neither poverty nor riches; give me only my daily bread' (Pr 30:8).  

2 The term bread τὸν ἐπιούσιον, a very rare adjective, is a hapax legomenon, i.e. it appears only here (and in Mt 6:11), and is not found elsewhere in classical Greek literature or in the LXX (Septuagint). There are many interpretations, but ἐπιούσιος remains enigmatic and carries with it a wealth of meanings: the material bread necessary for daily life; spiritual bread, that is, the Word of God and the Eucharist, the sign of daily trust in the Providence of the Father. Some exegetes read it as 'bread for the day that is coming', thus a confident invocation for the immediate future. 

3. Jesus takes the Our Father directly from the Jewish liturgy, and here are some Jewish prayers that are at its origin: 'Our Father who art in heaven' (Mishnah Yoma, common invocation); 'May your name be sanctified in the world you have created according to your will' (Qaddish, Qedushah and Shemoné Esré); May your kingdom come quickly and be recognised throughout the world... May your will be done in heaven and on earth... Give us our daily bread...

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us... Lead us not into temptation... Yours is the greatness, the power, the glory... (1 Chr 29:11)

4. The final doxology of the Lord's Prayer: Many Christian groups, well before the Second Vatican Council, recited at the end of the Lord's Prayer: Yours is the kingdom, yours is the power and glory forever. This "doxology" (word of praise) is found in some manuscripts of Matthew, and is probably derived from a very ancient liturgical use, already in the first century, but dating back even further, to David's prayer (cf. Chronicles 29:11).

5. On the importance of prayers of petition, I echo an interesting image proposed by Duns Scotus: imagine a boat on the sea; on the shore there is a rock, on which there is a ring, and another ring on the boat, tied together with a rope The man who prays is like someone in the boat pulling on the rope: he does not pull the rock towards himself, but brings himself – and the boat – closer to the rock.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

16th Sunday in O.T. (year C) [20 July 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! For those who can, summer is a time when we can devote more time to listening to the Word and praying for those who are so immersed in their worries that they believe they have no time to pray.

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (18:1-10)

Mambré is an inhabitant of the land of Canaan who, on several occasions, offered hospitality to Abraham in his oak grove (near the present-day city of Hebron). We know that oak trees were sacred to the Canaanites. This story recounts an apparition of God in the grove belonging to Mambré. But, in reality, this is not the first time that God has spoken to Abraham. Since chapter 12, the book of Genesis has told us about God's repeated appearances and promises to Abraham. But, for the moment, nothing has happened yet, and Abraham and Sarah are about to die without children. It is often said that God chose a people, but in reality, God first chose a man—and, moreover, a man without children. And it was to this man without a future (at least according to human criteria) that God made an unprecedented promise: "I will make you a great nation... All the families of the earth will be blessed in you" (Gen 12:2-3). To this old, sterile man, he said: "Count the stars, if you can... So shall your descendants be." Based solely on this seemingly impossible promise, Abraham decided to stake his entire life. Abraham did not doubt that God would keep his word, but he was well aware of the obvious obstacle: he and Sarah were sterile, or at least they believed themselves to be, since at the ages of seventy-five and sixty-five they were still childless. Abraham had imagined solutions: God promised me descendants, but, after all, my servant is like a son to me. "Lord God, what will you give me? I am going away childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus" (Gen 15:2). But God refused: 'This man shall not be your heir, but one born to you shall be your heir' (Gen 15:4). A few years later, when God spoke again of that birth, Abraham could not help but laugh (Gen 17:17); then he thought of another solution: it could be my real son, Ishmael, the one I had from my union (authorised by Sarah) with Hagar. "Can a man of a hundred years old have a son? And can Sarah, who is ninety years old, still give birth? ... May Ishmael live before you!" But once again God refused: "No! Your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you shall call him Isaac" (Gen 17:19). A promise is a promise. The passage we read this Sunday presupposes this long history of a twenty-five-year covenant, according to the Bible. The event takes place near the oak of Mamre. Three men appeared to Abraham and accepted his hospitality. Let us stop here. Contrary to what one might think, the central point of the text is not the generous hospitality offered by Abraham! At that time, in that civilisation, it was nothing extraordinary, however exemplary it might have been. The author's message, what arouses his admiration and prompts him to write in order to pass it on to future generations, is much greater! The unthinkable has happened: for the first time in human history, God himself has become a guest of a man! No one doubts that the three distinguished visitors represent God. Reading the text is a little difficult for us, because it is not clear whether there is only one visitor or more than one: Abraham looked up and saw three men... he said: My Lord, if I have found favour in your eyes... go and fetch some water, wash your feet... I will fetch a morsel of bread and you can refresh yourselves... Where is Sarah, your wife? I will return to you in a year's time... your wife will have a son. In reality, the author wrote this much later, based on different accounts. He combined all these sources into one, harmonising everything as much as possible. And because he wanted to avoid any appearance of polytheism, he took care to reiterate several times that there is only one God. At the time, the author could not have imagined that this was the Trinity, but Abraham certainly recognised the divine presence in those three visitors without hesitation. God, therefore – for it is undoubtedly Him – made Himself a guest in Abraham's house. And to tell him what? To confirm the unheard-of plan He had for him: next year, at this same time, old Sarah will have a son. And from this son would be born a people who would be the instrument of divine blessing. Sarah, who was eavesdropping behind the curtain, could not help but laugh: they were both so old, and the traveller replied with a phrase that we should never forget: 'Is anything too hard for the Lord?' (Gen 18:14). And the impossible happened: Isaac was born, the first link in the promised lineage, as numerous as the stars in the sky.

*Responsorial Psalm (14/15, 1a. 2-3a, 3bc-4ab, 4d-5)

The psalms were all composed to accompany a liturgical action during pilgrimages and feasts at the Temple in Jerusalem, and the Psalter could be compared to the hymnals we find in our churches. Here, the pilgrim arrives at the gates of the Temple and asks the question: am I worthy to enter? The answer is found in the Book of Leviticus: 'Be holy, because I am holy' (19:2), and this psalm draws the consequences: those who wish to enter the Temple (the 'house' of God) must behave in a manner worthy of the holy God. 'Who shall dwell on your holy mountain? (v. 1) The answer is simple: "He who walks blamelessly, practises justice and speaks the truth that is in his heart" (v. 2), and the following verses clarify this: be righteous, be true, do no wrong to anyone. Ultimately, all this recalls the Decalogue (Ex 20) and the identikit of the righteous man drawn up by Ezekiel (Ez 18:5-9). Micah takes up the question of our psalm exactly and develops it (Mic 6:6-8), as does his contemporary Isaiah (Is 33:15-16). A little later, Zechariah also feels the need to repeat it (Zech 8:16-17). Reading these texts, which I am only mentioning but which are worth meditating on, we understand how essential it is to wait for the intervention of the One who can transform our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh, as Ezekiel says. Everything helps us to reread this psalm by applying it to Jesus, whom the Gospels describe as 'meek and humble of heart' (Mt 11:29), attentive to the excluded: lepers (Mk 1), the adulterous woman (Jn 8), the sick and demon-possessed, Jews and pagans. Jesus is completely foreign to the logic of profit and does not even have a place to lay his head. Jesus helps us to re-read verse 3: "He does not slander with his tongue, he does not harm his neighbour, he does not cast insults at his neighbour," giving it a new dimension and teaching us in the parable of the Good Samaritan that the circle of our "neighbours" can be expanded to infinity. Verse 4: "The wicked are despicable in his eyes" may seem out of place amid all these beautiful sentiments: but it probably indicates a commitment to fidelity because the "wicked" are the unfaithful, the idolaters, and the pilgrim must reject all forms of idolatry, for which reason fidelity to the one God has been a constant struggle in Israel. Finally, the reference to the demands of the Covenant is a catechesis addressed to pilgrims, not a condition for entering the Temple, because otherwise no one could ever have entered except Jesus of Nazareth, the only Holy One.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (1:24-28)

"I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church." How are we to understand the first sentence of this text? Is there something lacking in Christ's sufferings? Or are there other sufferings that we must endure in order to "compensate" in some way? In truth, there are still sufferings to endure, as Paul affirms, but it is not a matter of completing a measure. It is not the result of a divine demand, but rather a necessity due to the hardness of the human heart. What remains to be suffered are the difficulties, opposition, and even persecution that every work of evangelisation encounters. Jesus said this clearly, both before and after his Passion and Resurrection. If the Son of Man had to suffer greatly, rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, put to death and rise again on the third day (cf. Lk 9:22), a similar fate would befall his disciples: They will deliver you to courts and synagogues, you will be beaten, you will appear before governors and kings because of me, and this will be an opportunity for you to bear witness, but first, the Gospel must be proclaimed to all nations (cf. Mk 13:9-10). The warning is that until the mission is accomplished, the disciple must continue to labour, face difficulties, even persecution, certainly not by divine decree, as if God desired the suffering of his children and counted their tears, because such an assumption would distort the image of the God of tenderness and compassion that Moses himself had already discovered. For Paul, there are two characteristics that qualify the disciple of Christ: imitation of the suffering divine Master and proclamation of the 'mystery' (v. 26). The first characteristic is described in this difficult opening verse, and St Augustine applies this participation in the sufferings of Christ to all Christians who suffer so that the whole community may be purified from evil. The second characteristic is proclamation, the missionary commitment whose content is 'the mystery', that is, the plan of salvation revealed in Christ. For the work of evangelisation, God calls collaborators because he does not want to act without us. However, the world refuses to listen to the Word and resists with all its might the spread of the Gospel, an opposition that goes as far as persecuting and suppressing the martyrs, who are inconvenient witnesses. This is exactly what Paul is experiencing, imprisoned for speaking too much about Jesus of Nazareth. In his letters to the young Christian communities, he often encourages his readers to accept, in turn, the inevitable persecution (cf. 1 Thess 3:3). Peter also says the same thing: "Resist, standing firm in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are being experienced by your brothers and sisters throughout the world" (1 Pet 5:9-10).  Therefore, we must not give up and we must proclaim Christ, despite everything, "admonishing everyone and teaching them with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ" (v. 28). Christ began the work of proclamation, and it is our task to bring it to completion. In this way, the Church grows little by little as the Body of Christ. In the First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 12), the image of the body was used to speak of the harmony among the members within each local Church. Here, however, Paul's vision broadens and contemplates the universal Church, the great body of which Christ is the head. This mystery, God's plan, has been revealed to Christians and becomes for them an inexhaustible source of joy and hope: "Christ in you, him, the hope of glory!" (v. 27) and it is the amazement at the presence of Christ in their midst that transforms believers into witnesses. Then we understand better the opening sentence of today's text: I find joy in the sufferings I endure for you, for what is lacking in Christ's sufferings, I complete in my flesh, for the sake of his body, which is the Church.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (10:38-42)

"Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33): this is perhaps the best commentary on Jesus' lesson in the house of Martha and Mary, a story exclusive to the evangelist Luke that immediately follows the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem with his disciples, an opportunity for him to give them many instructions, offering points of reference to help them remain faithful to their vocation to follow him. He first recommended to his disciples on mission that they accept hospitality (cf. Lk 9:4; 10:5-9) and now he willingly enters this house in Bethany, which he knew well. We should avoid contrasting Martha, the active one, with Mary, the contemplative one, because the evangelist seems rather to focus on the disciples' relationship with the Lord, as can be seen from the context and the repetition of the term 'Lord', which appears three times: Mary sat at the Lord's feet... Martha said, 'Lord, don't you care? The Lord answered her... The insistent use of this term indicates that the relationship described by Luke between Jesus and the two sisters, Martha and Mary, should not be judged according to human criteria of 'good behaviour', but according to what the Master wishes to teach his disciples. Here he invites us to discern what is the 'better part', that is, the essential and indispensable attitude in the life and mission of Christians. The two women welcome the Lord with all their attention: Martha is absorbed in many tasks related to serving, Mary entertains the guest by listening to him and does not miss a word. It cannot be said that one is active and the other contemplative: both, in their own way, are totally focused on him. The evangelist focuses on Jesus who is speaking, even though we are not told what he is saying, while Mary, 'sitting at the Lord's feet', listens with the attitude of a disciple, allowing herself to be taught (cf. Is 50). Martha protests: 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to serve you alone? Tell her to help me'. And here Jesus utters a phrase that has caused much ink to flow: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things." Jesus does not reproach Martha for her desire to welcome him well because, in the culture of hospitality (especially in the East), hospitality meant preparing a good meal: "kill the fatted calf." Martha's agitation and restlessness inspire Jesus to give a lesson that is useful for all his disciples because it goes to the heart of the matter: "Only one thing is needed," that is, everything is useful if we do not forget "the better part," that is, the essential. In life, we must all be both Martha and Mary, but we must be careful not to confuse our priorities. Jesus will take up this lesson again later, in a more extensive way (Lk 12:22-32), which, however, the liturgy does not always propose. I would therefore like to recall it here: "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. Life is worth more than food, and the body more than clothing... Now, if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, people of little faith! Therefore, do not seek what you will eat or drink, and do not be anxious. It is the pagans of the world who seek all these things, but your Father knows that you need them. Seek rather his Kingdom, and all the rest will be given to you in addition." Jesus warns us against the risk that our daily concerns will prevent us from listening to his word, which is "the better part". In dedicating ourselves to service like Martha, we must avoid forgetting that it is always God who takes care of us and not the other way around. We can paraphrase Jesus' words as follows: Martha, you are busy and agitated in welcoming me, doing many useful things, but the best way is to know that it is I who want to do things for you, so listen to me.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole