The Gospel tells us about the events preceding the birth of Jesus, and the Evangelist Matthew presents them from the point of view of St Joseph, the betrothed of the Virgin Mary.

Joseph and Mary were dwelling in Nazareth; they were not yet living together, because they were not yet married. In the meantime, Mary, after having welcomed the Angel’s announcement, came to be with child by the power of the Holy Spirit. When Joseph realized this, he was bewildered. The Gospel does not explain what his thoughts were, but it does tell us the essential: he seeks to do the will of God and is ready for the most radical renunciation. Rather than defending himself and asserting his rights, Joseph chooses what for him is an enormous sacrifice. And the Gospel tells us: “Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to send her away quietly” (1:19).

This brief sentence reveals a true inner drama if we think about the love that Joseph had for Mary! But even in these circumstances, Joseph intends to do the will of God and decides, surely with great sorrow, to send Mary away quietly. We need to meditate on these words in order to understand the great trial that Joseph had to endure in the days preceding Jesus’ birth. It was a trial similar to the sacrifice of Abraham, when God asked him for his son Isaac (cf. Gen 22): to give up what was most precious, the person most beloved.

But as in the case of Abraham, the Lord intervenes: he found the faith he was looking for and he opens up a different path, a path of love and of happiness. “Joseph,” he says, “do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit” (Mt 1:20).

This Gospel passage reveals to us the greatness of St Joseph’s heart and soul. He was following a good plan for his life, but God was reserving another plan for him, a greater mission. Joseph was a man who always listened to the voice of God, he was deeply sensitive to his secret will, he was a man attentive to the messages that came to him from the depths of his heart and from on high. He did not persist in following his own plan for his life, he did not allow bitterness to poison his soul; rather, he was ready to make himself available to the news that, in a such a bewildering way, was being presented to him. And thus, he was a good man. He did not hate, and he did not allow bitterness to poison his soul. Yet how many times does hatred, or even dislike and bitterness poison our souls! And this is harmful. Never allow it: he is an example of this. And Joseph thereby became even freer and greater. By accepting himself according to God’s design, Joseph fully finds himself, beyond himself. His freedom to renounce even what is his, the possession of his very life, and his full interior availability to the will of God challenge us and show us the way.

Let us make ourselves ready to celebrate Christmas by contemplating Mary and Joseph: Mary, the woman full of grace who had the courage to entrust herself totally to the Word of God; Joseph, the faithful and just man who chose to believe the Lord rather than listen to the voices of doubt and human pride. With them, let us walk together toward Bethlehem.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 22 December 2013]

Third Sunday in Advent (year A)  [14 December 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! "Rejoice always in the Lord... the Lord is near." The message of this third Sunday of Advent is the announcement of the joy of Christmas approaching. Advent teaches us to wait with patient hope for Jesus, who will surely come. 

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (35:1...10)

This passage comes from Isaiah's Little Apocalypse, known as the "Minor Apocalypse" (cc34-35), probably written by an anonymous author, and  tells of the joyful return of Israel from exile in Babylon. We are in the period when the people suffered the sack of Jerusalem and spent over fifty years away from their land, experiencing humiliation and suffering that would discourage even the strongest. Isaiah, who lived in the 6th century BC during the exile in Babylon, reassures the frightened people: 'Behold your God: vengeance is coming, divine reward. He is coming to save you'. The result will be the liberation of the suffering: the blind will see, the deaf will hear, the lame will leap for joy, the mute will shout for joy. The people have suffered years of domination, deportation with humiliation and many trials, including religious ones: a time that discourages and makes them fear for the future. The author uses the expression 'God's vengeance', which may surprise us today. But here, vengeance is not punishment on men: it is the defeat of the evil that oppresses them and the liberation that God gives. God intervenes personally to save, redeem and restore dignity: the blind will see, the deaf will hear, the lame will leap and the mute will shout for joy. The return from exile is described as a triumphal march through the desert: the arid landscape is transformed into fertile and lush land, as beautiful as the mountains of Lebanon, the hills of Carmel and the plain of Sharon, symbols of abundance and beauty in the land of Israel. This journey shows that even the hardest trials can become a path of joy and hope when God intervenes. The desert, a symbol of hardship and trial, is thus transformed into a path of joy and hope thanks to God's intervention. The liberated people are called 'redeemed' and liberation is compared to 'redemption' in Jewish law: just as a close relative would release a debt or redeem a slave, God himself is our 'Go'el', the Relative who frees those who are oppressed or prisoners of evil. In this sense, redemption means liberation: physical, moral and spiritual. Singing 'Alleluia' means recognising that God leads us from servitude to freedom, transforming despair into joy and the desert into blossoming. This text reminds us that God never abandons us: even in the most difficult moments, his mercy and love free us and give us hope again. It shows how the language of the Bible can transform words that seem threatening into promises of salvation and hope, reminding us that God always intervenes to free us and restore our dignity.

Main elements +Context: Babylonian exile, Israel far from the land, anonymous author. +Isaiah's Little Apocalypse: prophecy of hope and return to the promised land. +God's vengeance: defeat of evil, not punishment of men. +Concrete liberation: the blind, deaf, lame, mute and prisoners redeemed. +The desert will blossom: difficulties transformed into joy and beauty. +Redemption: God as Go'el, liberator of the oppressed. +Alleluia: song of praise for the liberation received. +Spiritual message: God intervenes to free us and give us hope even in the hardest moments.

*Responsorial Psalm (145/146, 7-8, 9-10

This psalm, a 'psalm of Alleluia', is a song full of joy and gratitude, written after the return of the people of Israel from exile in Babylon, probably for the dedication of the rebuilt Temple. The Temple had been destroyed in 587 BC by Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. In 538 BC, after the conquest of Babylon by the Persian king Cyrus, the Jews were allowed to return to their land and rebuild the Temple. The reconstruction was not easy due to tensions between those returning from Babylon and those who had remained in Israel, but thanks to the strength of the prophets Haggai and Zechariah, the work was completed in 515 BC, under King Darius. The dedication of the new Temple was celebrated with great joy (Ezra 6:16). The psalm reflects this joy: Israel recognises that God has remained faithful to the Covenant, as he did during the Exodus. God is the one who frees the oppressed, breaks the chains, gives bread to the hungry, gives sight to the blind and lifts up the weak. This image of God, a God who takes the side of the poor and feels compassion ('mercy' indicates as if the bowels were trembling), was not taken for granted in ancient times. It is Israel's great contribution to the faith of humanity: to reveal a God of love and mercy. The psalm expresses this by saying that the Lord supports the widow and the orphan. The people are invited to imitate God in the same mercy, and the Law of Israel contains many rules for the protection of the weak (widows, orphans, foreigners). The prophets judged Israel's fidelity to the Covenant on the basis of this behaviour. At a deeper level, the psalm shows that God frees us not only from external oppression, but also from internal oppression: spiritual hunger finds its food in the Word; inner blindness is illuminated; the chains of hatred, pride and jealousy are broken. Although we do not see it here, this psalm is actually framed by the word 'Alleluia', which according to Jewish tradition means to sing the praise of God because He leads from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from sadness to joy. We Christians read this psalm in the light of Jesus Christ: He gave bread to his contemporaries and continues to give the "bread of life" in the Eucharist; He is the light of the world (Jn 8:12); in his resurrection, he definitively freed humanity from the chains of death. Finally, since man is created in the image of God, every time he helps a poor person, a sick person, a prisoner, a stranger, he manifests the very image of God. And every gesture made "to the least" contributes to the growth of the Kingdom of God. A catechumen, reading about the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, asked, "Why doesn't Jesus do this today for all the hungry?" And after a moment she replied, "Perhaps he is counting on us to do it."

Important elements to remember +Historical context: psalm written after the return from exile and the reconstruction of the Temple (587–515 BC). +Central theme: the joy of the people for God's faithfulness and their liberation. +Revelation of God: God is merciful and defends the oppressed, the poor, the weak. +Commitment of the people: to imitate God in works of mercy towards all the oppressed. +Spiritual reading: God frees us from inner chains (hatred, pride, spiritual blindness). +Alleluia: symbol of the passage from slavery to freedom and from sadness to joy. +Christian reading: fulfilment in Christ, who gives true bread, enlightens, liberates, saves. +Image of God in man: every gesture of love towards the most fragile makes the image of God visible. +Christian responsibility: God also counts on our commitment to nourish, liberate and support those who suffer.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St James the Apostle (5:7-10)

Christian tradition recognises three figures named James who were close to Jesus: James the Greater, son of Zebedee and brother of John, with an impetuous character, present at the Transfiguration and in Gethsemane; James, son of Alphaeus, one of the Twelve; James, 'brother/cousin' of the Lord, leader of the Church of Jerusalem and probable author of the Letter of James. The text highlights a fundamental theme for the early Christians: the expectation of the coming of the Lord. Like Paul, James always looks to the horizon of the final fulfilment of God's plan. It is significant that at the very beginning of Christian preaching, the end of the world was most ardently desired, perhaps because the Resurrection had given a taste of future glory. In this expectation, James repeats a crucial invitation: patience, a word which in the original Greek (makrothyméo) means 'to have long breath, to have a long spirit'. Waiting for the coming of the Lord is a long-distance race, not a sprint: faith must learn to endure over time. When the early Christians realised that the parousia was not coming immediately, waiting became a true test of fidelity.

To live this endurance, James offers two models: the farmer, who knows the rhythm of the seasons, trusting in God who sends rain 'in its season' (Deut 11:14), and the other model: the prophets, who endured hostility and persecution to remain faithful to their mission. James asks Christians to have stamina (perseverance/patience) and a steadfast heart ("Strengthen your hearts"). In verse 11, which follows this text, James also quotes Job, the only case in the New Testament, as the supreme example of perseverance: those who remain steadfast like him will experience the Lord's mercy. Patience is not only personal: it is lived out in community relationships. James takes up Jesus' teaching: do not complain about one another, do not judge one another, do not murmur. 'The Judge is at hand': only God truly judges, because he sees the heart. Man easily risks confusing wheat and weeds. The lesson is also for us: we often lack the breath of hope, and at the same time we give in to the temptation to judge. Yet Jesus' words about the speck and the log remain relevant today.

Important points to remember: + Of the three James, it is James the Greater, the son of Alphaeus, the 'brother' of the Lord, who is the probable author of this Letter, which reflects the central theme of waiting for the coming of the Lord. + Patience is repeated several times and is understood as 'long breath', an endurance race. + The initial Christian expectation was very intense: it was thought that Christ's return was imminent. + Two models of perseverance: the farmer (trust in God's timing) and the prophets (courage in mission). + v.11 not in this text but immediately after John

cites Job as an example of endurance: the only citation in the New Testament, a symbol of perseverance in trials. +Community mission: do not judge, do not murmur, do not complain because 'the Judge is at the door'. He invites us to live knowing that only God judges rightly. +The danger today is also a lack of spiritual breath and the risk of judging others.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (11:2-11)

Last Sunday we saw John the Baptist baptising along the Jordan and announcing: 'After me comes one'. When Jesus asked to be baptised, John recognised him as the expected Messiah, but the months passed and John was put in prison by Herod around the year 28, at which time Jesus began his public preaching in Galilee. Jesus began his public life with famous discourses, such as the Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitudes, and with many healings. However, his behaviour was strange in the eyes of the people: he surrounded himself with "unreliable" disciples (publicans, people of different origins and characters); he was not an ascetic like John, he ate and drank like everyone else, and he showed himself among the common people; he never claimed the title of Messiah, nor did he seek power. From prison, John received news from those who kept him informed and began to doubt: 'Have I been deceived? Are you the Messiah?' This question is crucial because it concerns both John and Jesus, who was forced to confront the expectations of those who awaited him. Jesus does not answer with a yes or no, but quotes the prophecies about the works of the Messiah: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive the good news (Isaiah 35:5-6; 61:1). With these words, Jesus invites John to see for himself whether he is doing the works of the Messiah, confirming that yes, he is the Messiah, even if his manners seem strange. The true face of God is revealed in his service to humanity, not in accordance with expectations of power or glory. Finally, Jesus praises John, saying that he is blessed because he "does not find cause for scandal in me." John sets an example of faith: even in doubt, he does not lose confidence and seeks the truth directly from Jesus himself. Jesus concludes by explaining that John is the greatest of the prophets because he paves the way for the Messiah, but with the coming of Jesus, even the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than John, emphasising that the content of Christ's message exceeds all human expectations: "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us".

Important elements to remember +John the Baptist announces the Messiah and baptises along the Jordan. +Jesus begins his public life after John's arrest, in Galilee, with speeches and miracles. +Jesus' "strange" behaviour: he associates with everyone, even the most marginalised, does not claim titles or power, eats and presents himself like ordinary people.+John's doubts: he sends his disciples to ask if Jesus is truly the Messiah. + Jesus' response: he cites the prophetic works of the Messiah (healings, liberations, proclamation to the poor).+ John's active faith: he does not remain in doubt, but asks Jesus directly for clarification. + Joy and surprise: the face of God is revealed in the service of man, not according to traditional expectations. + John as precursor: the greatest of the prophets, but with Jesus, the smallest in the Kingdom is the greatest. + Final message: Christ is the Word incarnate, the fulfilment of God's promises.

*Here is a quote from St Gregory the Great in Homily 6 on the Gospels, commenting on the episode: "John does not ignore who Jesus is: he points to him as the Lamb of God. But, sent to prison, he sends his disciples not to know him, but so that they may learn from Christ what he already knew. John does not seek to be taught, but to teach. And Christ does not respond with words, but with deeds: he makes it clear that he is the Messiah not by saying so, but by showing the works announced by the prophets." He adds: "The Lord proclaims blessed those who are not scandalised by him, because in him there is greatness hidden beneath a humble appearance: those who are not scandalised by his humility recognise his divinity." This commentary perfectly illuminates the heart of the Gospel: John does not doubt for himself, but to help his disciples recognise that Jesus is the expected Messiah, even though he presents himself in a surprising and humble way.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Casual Incarnation, in tenuality and density

(Mt 1:1-17)

In order to reach the fullness of the Son, God did not claim to overcome concrete events, and vice versa He assumed and valued them.

In history, the Eternal manages to give wings not so much to strength and genius, but to all the poor origins, to the smallness of our nature, which suddenly turns into totally unpredictable wealth. 

If we constantly tear the wire, the Lord reannounts it - not to fix and resume as before, but to redo an entire new plot.

Right from the existential falls.

It is those earthy moments that force humanity to change direction 'symbol’ - and not repeat itself, stagnating.

As a result of inner crashes and rethinking, how many people have realized their destiny, diverting the path traced, quiet, protected and comfortable [Cottolengo, mother Teresa, so on]!

From the mud of the swamp, sprout that beautiful and clean flowers which do not even resemble those that in the various stages of life we had ever imagined we could reach.

The tumbles of the protagonists of the history of salvation did not come out of weakness. They were signs of a bad or partial use of resources; stimuli to change the eye, re-evaluate the point of view and many hopes.

Those collapses have configured new challenges: they have been interpreted as strong provocations: to shift energies and change track.

The Ascents resulting from the declines have turned into new opportunities. Instead, ready-made solutions turn off personality traits.

Even our crisis becomes serious only when failures do not lead to new knowledge and different paths.

Strange this bond between our abysses and the apexes of the Spirit: it is the Incarnation, no theory - all reality.

There is no Gift that resembles us at the divine top and that reaches us without passing and involving the finitude dimension.

The holes in the water convey the all-human figure of who we are.  And right there we grasp the great Father Secret on us.

It’s the paradoxical "descents" that spiritualize us; through a work of the soul that is rammed by events, so that it moves its gaze, changes destiny.

And tends to acquire new awareness, internalizes different evaluations, sees and embraces other varied horizons, even missionary.

In such a way, the crack that throws you down can be more consistent than any progress; not because it initiates an ascesis: it becomes contact with the "earth" - where you find the sap that really corresponds to you, to regenerate.

The decline or even the ruin of a reassuring status has in every occurrence a propulsive, regenerative, transmutative function. 

Normal, after all, and in which the God’s history totally recognizes itself.

To internalize and live the message:

What were your turning points?

What deviation made your life realize?

[Weekday Liturgy, December 17]

Casual Incarnation, in tenuousness and density

(Mt 1:1-17)

In the ancient East, genealogies mentioned only men, and it is surprising that Mt mentions the names of no less than five women - considered merely servile, untrustworthy creatures, impure by nature.

But in the story of Mary's four companions there is not a little that is a-normal [also because of the model of life chosen] that is nevertheless worthwhile.

Here we are then challenged by the Gospel on the weight to be given to the rigidity of norms, which in the history of spirituality have often devoured the spontaneous being of those called by the Father (simply to express themselves).

Cultures animated by the Wisdom of Nature also testify to this weight.

The Tao Tê Ching (LVII) writes: "When the world is governed by correction, weapons are used with falsehood [...] That is why the saint says: I do not act and the people transform themselves [...] I do not yearn and the people make themselves simple".

In order to reach the human fullness of the Son, God did not pretend to overcome concrete events, on the contrary He assumed them and valorised them.

The path that leads to Christ is not a matter of climbs, nor of results or performances to be calibrated more and more in a linear crescendo that is therefore moralising and dirigiste (which does not impose turning points that count, nor does it solve the real problems).

Commenting on the Tao(i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: "Mystery is Heaven. He says that both the man who has desires and the man who has none equally receive ch'ì from Heaven. Within heaven there is another heaven; in the ch'ì there is density and tenuity".

In history, the Eternal One manages to give unfurled wings not so much to strength and genius, but to all the poor beginnings, to the paucity of our nature, which suddenly turns into totally unpredictable wealth. 

And if we tear the thread again and again, the Lord knits it back together - not to fix it, patch it up and resume as before, but to make a whole new weave. Precisely from the falls.

It is those moments of the earth-to-earth divide that force humanity to change symbolic direction and not repeat itself, stagnating in the circuit of the usual cerebral and purist perimeters - habitual, and where everything is normal.

As a result of inner crashes and afterthoughts, how many people have fulfilled their destiny by deviating from the marked, quiet, protected and comfortable path (Cottolengo, Mother Teresa, etc.)!

Out of the mire of the swamp sprout beautiful, clean flowers, which do not even resemble those we had ever imagined we could contemplate in the various stages of life.

The tumbles of the protagonists of salvation history did not come from weakness. They were signs of bad or partial use of resources; stimuli to change one's eye, re-evaluate one's point of view and many hopes.

Those collapses configured new challenges: they were interpreted as strong provocations: to shift energies and change track.

The upturns following the downturns turned into new opportunities, not at all unexpected, fully discordant with the ready-made solutions that extinguish characters.

Even our crisis only becomes serious when the failures do not result in new insights and different paths that we had not thought of (perhaps in any of our good intentions).

Strange this link between our abysses and the heights of the Spirit: it is the Incarnation, no theory - all reality.

There is no Gift that resembles the divine top and comes to us without passing through and involving the dimension of finitude.

The holes in the water convey the all-too-human figure of what we are - behind illusions or the very appearances we do not want to put down, to convince ourselves that we are instead identified 'characters'.

But the ambivalences and flaws continue to want to unhinge our gaze and destiny elsewhere, with respect to common expectations [today also the paroxysm of the point in the polls].

Behind the mask and beyond the convictions acquired from environment, manners or procedures... there is the Father's great Secret about us.

It is precisely the descents that spiritualise, through a working of the soul that is rammed by events, so that it turns to acquire new awareness, internalises different evaluations, sees and embraces other varied horizons, even missionary ones.

The crack that knocks down can be more consistent than any progress; not because it initiates asceticism: it becomes contact with the 'earth' - where we find the sap that really corresponds to us, to regenerate.

The fall or even the ruin of a reassuring status has in every happening a propulsive, regenerative, transmutative function; normal, after all, and in which the story of God is totally recognised.

To internalise and live the message:

What were your turning points?

What deviation has fulfilled you?Not only through men, but with them

With today's liturgy we enter the final stretch of the Advent journey, which calls for us to intensify our preparation, in order to celebrate the Lord's Christmas with faith and joy, welcoming with intimate awe God who makes himself close to man, to each one of us.

The first reading presents us with the elderly Jacob gathering his sons for the blessing: it is an event of great intensity and emotion. This blessing is like a seal of fidelity to the covenant with God, but it is also a prophetic vision, looking forward and indicating a mission. Jacob is the father who, through the not always straightforward paths of his own history, comes to the joy of gathering his children around him and plotting the future of each one and their descendants. In particular, today we have heard the reference to the tribe of Judah, whose royal strength is exalted, represented by the lion, as well as to the monarchy of David, represented by the sceptre, the staff of command, which alludes to the coming of the Messiah. Thus, in this dual image, the future mystery of the lion who becomes a lamb, of the king whose staff of command is the cross, the sign of true kingship, transpires. Jacob has gradually become aware of the primacy of God, has understood that his path is guided and sustained by the Lord's faithfulness, and cannot but respond with full adherence to God's covenant and plan of salvation, becoming in turn, together with his own descendants, a link in the divine plan.

The passage in Matthew's Gospel presents us with the "genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham" (Mt 1:1), further emphasising and explicating God's faithfulness to the promise, which He fulfils not only through men, but with them and, as with Jacob, sometimes through tortuous and unforeseen ways. The awaited Messiah, the object of the promise, is true God, but also true man; Son of God, but also Son born of the Virgin, Mary of Nazareth, holy flesh of Abraham, in whose seed all the peoples of the earth shall be blessed (cf. Gen 22:18). In this genealogy, besides Mary, four women are mentioned. They are not Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, i.e. the great figures of Israel's history. Paradoxically, instead, it is four pagan women: Racab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Tamar, who apparently 'disturb' the purity of a genealogy. But in these pagan women, who appear at decisive points in salvation history, the mystery of the church of the pagans, the universality of salvation, shines through. They are pagan women in whom the future, the universality of salvation, appears. They are also sinful women, and so the mystery of grace also appears in them: it is not our works that redeem the world, but it is the Lord who gives us true life. They are sinful women, yes, in whom appears the greatness of the grace that we all need. Yet these women reveal an exemplary response to God's faithfulness, showing faith in the God of Israel. And so we see the church of the Gentiles, a mystery of grace, faith as a gift and a path to communion with God. Matthew's genealogy, therefore, is not simply the list of generations: it is the history realised primarily by God, but with the response of humanity. It is a genealogy of grace and faith: it is precisely on the absolute faithfulness of God and the solid faith of these women that the continuation of the promise made to Israel rests.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Aletti Centre, 17 December 2009].

Man, God's surname

Man is God's surname: the Lord in fact takes the name from each one of us - whether we are saints or sinners - to make it his own surname. For in becoming incarnate, the Lord made history with humanity: his joy was to share his life with us, 'and this makes one weep: so much love, so much tenderness'.

It was with thoughts turned to the now imminent Christmas that Pope Francis commented on Tuesday 17 December on the two readings proposed by the liturgy of the word, taken respectively from Genesis (49:2, 8-10) and the Gospel of Matthew (1:1-17). On the day of his 77th birthday, the Holy Father presided over morning Mass as usual in the chapel of Santa Marta. Concelebrating among others was Cardinal Dean Angelo Sodano, who expressed the best wishes of the entire College of Cardinals to him.

In his homily, which focused on the presence of God in the history of humanity, the Bishop of Rome identified two terms - inheritance and genealogy - as the keys to interpreting the first reading (concerning the prophecy of Jacob gathering his sons and predicting a glorious descent for Judah) and the Gospel passage containing the genealogy of Jesus. Focusing in particular on the latter, he emphasised that it is not 'a telephone book', but 'an important subject: it is pure history', because 'God sent his son' among men. And, he added, "Jesus is consubstantial with his father, God; but he is also consubstantial with his mother, a woman. And this is that consubstantiality of the mother: God made himself history, God wanted to make himself history. He is with us. He has made a journey with us'.

A journey,' continued the bishop of Rome, 'that began from afar, in Paradise, immediately after original sin. From that moment, in fact, the Lord 'had this idea: to make a journey with us'. Therefore, "he called Abraham, the first one named in this list, and invited him to walk. And Abraham began that journey: he begat Isaac, and Isaac Jacob, and Jacob Judah". And so on through human history. 'God walks with his people', therefore, because 'he did not want to come to save us without history; he wanted to make history with us'.

A history, said the Pontiff, made of holiness and sin, because in the list of Jesus' genealogy there are saints and sinners. Among the former the Pope recalled "our father Abraham" and "David, who after sin converted". Among the latter, he singled out "high-level sinners, who did big sins", but with whom God equally "made history". Sinners who failed to respond to the plan God had imagined for them: like 'Solomon, so great and intelligent, who ended up as a poor man who did not even know his name'. Yet, Pope Francis noted, God was also with him. "And this is the beauty of it: God makes history with us. Moreover, when God wants to say who he is, he says: I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob".

That is why to the question "what is God's surname?" for Pope Francis it is possible to answer: "It is us, each one of us. He takes the name from us to make it his surname". And in the example offered by the Pontiff there are not only the fathers of our faith, but also ordinary people. "I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of Pedro, of Marietta, of Armony, of Marisa, of Simon, of everyone. He takes the surname from us. God's surname is each one of us,' he explained.

Hence the realisation that by taking 'the surname from our name, God has made history with us'; indeed, more than that: 'He has let history be written by us'. And we still continue to write 'this history', which is made 'of grace and sin', while the Lord does not tire of coming after us: 'this is God's humility, God's patience, God's love'. Moreover, even 'the book of Wisdom says that the joy of the Lord is among the children of man, with us'.

So 'as Christmas approaches', it came naturally to Pope Francis - as he himself confided in concluding his reflection - to think: 'If he made his history with us, if he took his last name from us, if he let us write his history', we for our part should let God write ours. Because, he clarified, 'holiness' is precisely 'letting the Lord write our story'. And this is the Christmas wish that the Pontiff wanted to make 'for all of us'. A wish that is an invitation to open our hearts: "Let the Lord write history for you and let you let him write it for you."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 18/12/2013]

Dear Friends, 

With today's Liturgy we enter into the last stage of the Advent journey, which urges us to intensify our preparation, to celebrate the Lord's Birth with faith and joy, welcoming with deep wonder God who makes himself close to human beings, to each one of us. 

The First Reading presents to us the aged Jacob who gathers his sons to give them his blessing. It is an event of great intensity and emotion. This blessing is like their seal of fidelity to the Covenant with God; but it is also a prophetic vision that looks ahead and indicates a mission. Jacob is a father who, on the paths of his own history that have not always been straight, achieves the joy of gathering his children round him and predicting the future of each one and of their descendents. Today, in particular, we heard the reference to the tribe of Judah whose royal power is exalted, represented by the lion, as well as the monarchy of David, represented by the sceptre, by the ruler's staff that alludes to the coming of the Messiah. Thus through this duel image, the mysterious future of the lion that becomes a lamb, of the king whose ruler's staff becomes the Cross, is the sign of true kingship. Jacob has gradually become aware of the primacy of God, he has realized that his journey is guided and sustained by the Lord's faithfulness, and cannot but answer with full adherence to God's Covenant and plan of salvation becoming in turn, together with his own descendants, a link in the divine plan. 

The Gospel of Matthew presents to us the "genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham" (Mt 1: 1), underlining and further explaining God's fidelity to the promise that he puts into practice not only through human beings but with them, and, as for Jacob, sometimes in tortuous and unexpected ways. The awaited Messiah, the subject of the promise, is true God but also true man; the Son of God, but also the Son born of the Virgin Mary of Nazareth, the holy flesh of Abraham in whose descendants all the peoples of the earth would be blessed (cf. Gn 22: 18). In this genealogy, in addition to Mary, four other women are recalled. They are not Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, or Rachel, that is, the great figures of the history of Israel. Instead, paradoxically they are four pagan women: Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Tamar, who seemingly "cloud" the purity of a genealogy. Yet, in these pagan women who appear at crucial points in the history of salvation, also appears the mystery of the church of the pagans, the universality of salvation. They are pagan women in whom appears the future, the universality of salvation. They are also sinful women, and thus the mystery of grace appears in them: it is not our works that redeem the world, but rather the Lord who gives us true life. They are sinful women, yes, in whom appears the greatness of the grace that we all need. Yet these women reveal an exemplary response to God's faithfulness, showing their faith in the God of Israel. And thus we see through the Church of the pagans, the mystery of grace, faith as a gift and as the way to communion with God. Matthew's genealogy, therefore, is not merely a list of generations: it is history brought about first by God, but with humanity's response. It is a genealogy of grace and faith: it is precisely on the absolute fidelity of God and on the sound faith of these women that the fulfilment of the promise made to Israel is founded.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Aletti Centre, 17 December 2009]

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

1. Reflection on the mystery of Jesus, which especially marks this first year of immediate preparation for the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, goes well with the Christmas holidays. Continuing the meditation I began a few Sundays ago, today I would like to reflect on a title Jesus is given more than once in the Gospels. He is called “son of David”. Matthew’s Gospel opens precisely with these words: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David” (Mt 1:1). 

We might say that it is a family title. Through Joseph, his putative father, Jesus is linked to the entire human chain which reaches from son to father back to King David. This genealogical relationship emphasizes the concreteness of the Incarnation: by becoming man, the Eternal Word of God fully entered the human family, putting himself in the lineage of a specific family tradition. In this way he also wanted to be one of us, experiencing that unique bond which, linking generations, enables each person to feel rooted not only in time and space, but also in a beneficial fabric of memories and affections. 

2. However, in addition to this anthropological meaning, the title “son of David” also has a specific sense which casts light on God’s plan. In fact, it reminds us that the Christian event is the culmination of a salvation history which God has gradually brought about since the Old Testament, offering the Jewish people a special “covenant” and making them the bearer of saving promises which in Jesus of Nazareth would be fulfilled for all humanity. Therefore when his contemporaries call him “son of David”, they are recognizing that the ancient promises are fulfilled in him and proclaim the definitive realization of the messianic hope. Every man and woman can now draw from this hope, making his own the cry which is found on the lips of blind Bartimaeus in the Gospel: “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47). By calling on the “son of David”, humanity can rediscover light for the gaze of its heart. 

3. May Mary, the humble girl of Nazareth, who in giving birth to the Son of God introduced him into David's genealogy and into the entire human family, help us to grow in our understanding of how we are involved in this history of salvation. Let us be guided by her in the intimacy of her Holy Family where the seed of the new humanity is sown. At the beginning of this new year, may the Blessed Virgin bless all the families of the world, so that in Jesus they may recognize their true Saviour.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 5 January 1997]

Man is God's surname: the Lord in fact takes the name from each of us - whether we are saints or sinners - to make it his own surname. For in becoming incarnate, the Lord made history with humanity: his joy was to share his life with us, 'and this makes one weep: so much love, so much tenderness'.

It was with thoughts turned to the now imminent Christmas that Pope Francis commented on Tuesday 17 December on the two readings proposed by the liturgy of the word, taken respectively from Genesis (49:2, 8-10) and the Gospel of Matthew (1:1-17). On the day of his 77th birthday, the Holy Father presided over morning Mass as usual in the chapel of Santa Marta. Concelebrating among others was Cardinal Dean Angelo Sodano, who expressed the best wishes of the entire College of Cardinals to him.

In his homily, which focused on the presence of God in the history of humanity, the Bishop of Rome identified two terms - inheritance and genealogy - as the keys to interpreting the first reading (concerning the prophecy of Jacob gathering his sons and predicting a glorious descent for Judah) and the Gospel passage containing the genealogy of Jesus. Focusing in particular on the latter, he emphasised that it is not 'a telephone book', but 'an important subject: it is pure history', because 'God sent his son' among men. And, he added, 'Jesus is consubstantial with his father, God; but he is also consubstantial with his mother, a woman. And this is that consubstantiality of the mother: God made himself history, God wanted to make himself history. He is with us. He has made a journey with us'.

A journey,' continued the bishop of Rome, 'that began from afar, in Paradise, immediately after original sin. From that moment, in fact, the Lord 'had this idea: to make a journey with us'. Therefore, 'he called Abraham, the first one named in this list, and invited him to walk. And Abraham began that journey: he begat Isaac, and Isaac Jacob, and Jacob Judah'. And so on through human history. God walks with his people', therefore, because 'he did not want to come to save us without history; he wanted to make history with us'.

A history, said the Pontiff, made of holiness and sin, because in the list of Jesus' genealogy there are saints and sinners. Among the former the Pope recalled 'our father Abraham' and 'David, who after sin converted'. Among the latter, he singled out "high-level sinners, who did big sins", but with whom God equally "made history". Sinners who failed to respond to the plan God had imagined for them: like 'Solomon, so great and intelligent, who ended up as a poor man who did not even know his name'. Yet, Pope Francis noted, God was also with him. "And this is the beauty of it: God makes history with us. Moreover, when God wants to say who he is, he says: I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob'.

That is why to the question "what is God's surname?" for Pope Francis it is possible to answer: "It is us, each one of us. He takes the name from us to make it his surname'. And in the example offered by the Pontiff there are not only the fathers of our faith, but also ordinary people. "I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of Pedro, of Marietta, of Armony, of Marisa, of Simon, of everyone. He takes the surname from us. God's surname is each one of us,' he explained.

Hence the realisation that by taking 'the surname from our name, God has made history with us'; indeed, more than that: 'He has allowed himself to write history with us'. And we still continue to write 'this history', which is made 'of grace and sin', while the Lord does not tire of coming after us: 'this is God's humility, God's patience, God's love'. Moreover, even 'the book of Wisdom says that the joy of the Lord is among the children of man, with us'.

This is why 'as Christmas approaches', it came naturally to Pope Francis - as he himself confided in concluding his reflection - to think: 'If he made his history with us, if he took his last name from us, if he let us write his history', we for our part should let God write ours. Because, he clarified, 'holiness' is precisely 'letting the Lord write our story'. And this is the Christmas wish that the Pontiff wanted to make 'for all of us'. A wish that is an invitation to open our hearts: "Let the Lord write history for you and let him write it for you."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 18/12/2013]

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary [8 December]

Biblical texts: Gn 3:9–20; Ep 1:3–12; Lk 1:26–38 May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Instead of commenting on the readings, I propose a theological and spiritual meditation on the Immaculate Conception, starting with St Paul and referring to the tradition of the Church and the liturgy.

1. Saint Paul and Mary: a hidden but real bond Although Paul speaks almost nothing directly about the Virgin Mary, his teaching on the election, holiness and predestination of Christians (Eph 1:4-11) deeply illuminates the mystery of Mary. Saint Paul affirms that all the baptised are chosen, holy and immaculate. Applying this to Mary, we understand that what is true for the whole Church is realised in her in a perfect and anticipated way.

2. The mystery of the Church sheds light on the mystery of Mary In the development of theology, especially in the early centuries, Mary was understood in relation to the Church: Mary is what the Church is called to become. What is partial in us is perfect in her. She is 'the first on the journey': first in time, first in perfection. Mary is 'first' in two senses: chronologically first to welcome Christ, first to share in his Passion, first to enter into glory with body and soul. Qualitatively: no one welcomed Christ with greater purity, love and freedom. Her unique grace does not separate her from us, but manifests what God wants to accomplish in the whole Church. The Immaculate Conception is not an isolated privilege, but the full realisation of the vocation of every Christian: Mary is preserved from sin in view of Christ's merits. We are saved from sin through Christ's merits (baptism, sacraments, conversion). The trajectories are the same; in Mary they are only anticipated and brought to perfection thanks to her total obedience and total abandonment to God's will: Mary did not do the divine will but lived entirely in God's will. Herein lies the key to her life: tempted like everyone else, including Jesus, she defeated Satan by choosing to live always and completely in the Father's will, and for this reason she is now a sign of sure hope for us all.

3. Why is Mary Immaculate? The reason is profoundly simple: to be truly the Mother of God. To love Jesus for what he really is — true God and true man — Mary had to be totally free from sin, totally open to love, capable of welcoming God without hindrance. The Immaculate Conception is a gift of love: God formed her this way out of love for his Son and for us, so that Mary might become the Mother of the Saviour and the Mother of the Church. St John Damascene writes: "As Eve cooperated in the fall, Mary cooperated in the redemption: immaculate, she brought life to the one who was to give life to the world." And St Bartholomew Longo, recently canonised, observes: "The Immaculate Conception is not just a title, but a living mystery: God created her entirely pure to make her the Mother of the Redeemer."

4. Mary precedes us to show us our destiny. Mary does not crush, humiliate or distance us: she shows us what we will be in glory; she is a foretaste of what the Church will become; her holiness is a promise of ours. In her we see the goal of Christian life. Mary freely receives the angel's announcement and her "fiat" opens the door to salvation. Today, too, the Church, like Mary, is called to proclaim Christ, to bring his love into the world, to say her "yes" in history. God needs our hands, our eyes, our arms, our hearts: like Mary, we are called to be bearers of light, and we can be so to the extent that God's will lives in us as the protagonist of our entire existence.

5. What does it mean to be “immaculate” today? For us, it does not mean being without sin, but welcoming God’s action in our lives. It means living open to grace, saying our daily “yes”, allowing ourselves to be purified and transformed by the Spirit, becoming transparent in order to show Christ in the world. The Immaculate Conception thus becomes a vocation and a journey. "The truth about the Immaculate Conception seemed the most difficult for me to accept... when I finally accepted it, everything became clear: my faith found meaning." (Testimony reported on the website CatholicConvert.com in the story of Delores, a woman who recounts her conversion to Catholicism).

Important points to remember: +Mary is understood starting from the Church: what is true for all the baptised is perfect in her. +Immaculate because she is the Mother of God: in order to love her Son fully, she had to be totally free from sin. +"First on the journey": first in time and in the quality of love and holiness. +Her grace is promised to us: what she already lives, the Church and Christians will live fully in glory. +Shared predestination: Mary is preserved from sin; we are saved from sin. +Mary's "fiat" as a model: God calls, but waits for our freedom; the yes opens the way to mission. +Being immaculate today: it means welcoming God, allowing ourselves to be purified, becoming transparent to his light. +Mary takes nothing away from God: she is the "echo of God"; to venerate her is to honour God's work in her. +Mary points to our destiny: in her we see what God wants to accomplish in each of us. +The Immaculate Conception is a gift of love: from God to Mary and from Mary to the world.

*Here is a very brief historical summary of the main medieval defenders of the Immaculate Conception: St. Albert the Great (1200-1280) – Dominican theologian; open to the idea of Mary's preservation from original sin, but without defining it definitively. St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) – Dominican theologian; he argued that Mary was redeemed 'after original sin', therefore not immaculate from conception. Duns Scotus (1266-1308) – Franciscan theologian; main defender of the Immaculate Conception. Mary was preserved from original sin from the first moment, thanks to the merits of Christ anticipated by God. William of Ockham (1287-1347) – Franciscan; supporter of Scotus' position, albeit with some philosophical nuances. Scotus' central idea: Mary immaculate from the moment of conception, preserved by God's grace thanks to the future merits of Christ, anticipating the official dogma defined in 1854.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Second Sunday of Advent (year A) [7 December 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! From this Sunday onwards, in addition to the summary of the most important elements of each reading, I will add a brief commentary on the Gospel by a Father of the Church.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (11:1-10)

Isaiah speaks of the root of Jesse and refers to the descendants of King David. Jesse had eight sons, but God chose Samuel not to choose the strongest or the eldest, but the youngest: David, the shepherd, who became the greatest king of Israel. From that moment on, Jesse became the progenitor of a dynasty often represented as a tree destined for a great future, which would never die. The prophet Nathan promised David that his descendants would reign forever and bring unity and peace to the people. But in history, the kings of his lineage did not fully keep these promises. However, it is precisely from disappointments that a stronger hope arises: if God has promised, then it will come to pass. How did the idea of the Messiah come about? The term 'messiah' (in Hebrew mashiach = 'anointed') originally referred to any king, because he was 'anointed' with oil on the day of his coronation. Over time, however, the word 'messiah' took on the meaning of 'ideal king', the one who brings justice, peace and happiness. When Isaiah says, 'A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse', it means that even if David's dynasty seems like a dead tree, God can bring forth a new shoot, an ideal king: the Messiah, who will be guided by the Spirit of the Lord. The seven gifts of the Spirit, symbols of fullness, will rest upon him: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, and the fear of the Lord, which is not fear but trust and respect as a son. The Messiah will rule as God wills: with justice and faithfulness, and his task will be to wage war on injustice: He will judge the poor with justice... not according to appearances... he will put an end to wickedness with the breath of his lips. 'The wicked' does not refer to a person, but to wickedness itself, like saying 'waging war on war'. Isaiah describes a world where the wolf lives with the lamb, the child plays without fear, there is no more violence or conflict. It is not a return to paradise on earth, but the final fulfilment of God's plan, when the knowledge of the Lord will fill the earth. The root of Jesse will be a sign for all peoples, and the Messiah concerns not only Israel but all nations. Jesus himself will take up this idea: "When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself" (Jn 12:32). Isaiah preaches in the eighth century BC, at a time of political pressure and threats from neighbouring empires. The tree of David seems to be dead, but Isaiah urges us not to lose hope. The "animal fable" uses symbols to speak of human beings, as La Fontaine would do many centuries later, and constitutes a promise of peace, brotherhood and universal reconciliation. Martin Luther King, in his "I have a dream" speech, drew direct inspiration from these images used by Isaiah (cf. 11:2): a world where justice and brotherhood overcome violence.

The central theme can be summed up in one sentence: From the seemingly dead trunk of David's dynasty, God is so faithful that, when all seems lost, he revives his promise from a fragment, from a stump: hope is born precisely where man can no longer see anything. God will raise up a Messiah guided by the Spirit, who will fight injustice and bring universal peace to all peoples. God is faithful, and even from a dead trunk he can bring forth new life. It is messianic peace, the final reconciliation of creation. There are times when we too feel like a cut tree: failures, disappointments, repeated sins, broken relationships, projects that do not come to fruition, communities that seem to be losing strength. Isaiah announces: God is not finished with you either, and even where you see no future, He sees a sprout. Continue to hope, because God sees sprouts where we see only dry wood.

*Responsorial Psalm (71/72, 1-2, 7-8, 12-13, 17)

Psalm 71/72 is a prayer that arose after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer a king in Israel. This means that the psalm no longer speaks of an earthly ruler, but of the king promised by God: the Messiah. Since it is God who promises him, his fulfilment is certain. The entire Bible is permeated with an indestructible hope: history has meaning and direction, and God has a plan of happiness for humanity. This plan takes on different names (the Day of the Lord, the Kingdom of Heaven, the benevolent plan), but it is always the same: like a lover who repeats words of love, God tirelessly proposes his plan of salvation.

This plan is announced from the beginning, in the vocation of Abraham (Gen 12:3): 'All the families of the earth shall be blessed in you'. The revelation is therefore universal from the outset. Israel is chosen not to manage a privilege, but to be a service and a sign for all peoples. The psalm takes up this promise: in the Messiah, all nations will be blessed and will call him blessed. It also takes up the other promise made to Abraham (Gen 15:18), namely the gift of the land "from the river of Egypt to the great river". Echoing this, the psalm says: "He shall rule from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth." The book of Sirach (Sir 44:21) confirms this reading, linking together universal blessing, multiplication of descendants and extended inheritance. Although today the idea of a universal ruler may seem far removed from democratic sensibilities, and indeed there is fear of the imposition of a hidden world authority that would dominate the whole of humanity, the Bible reminds us that every ruler is only an instrument in the hands of God, and what matters is the people, considering the whole of humanity as one vast people, and the psalm announces a pacified humanity: In those days, justice will flourish, great peace until the end of time, poverty and oppression defeated. The dream of justice and peace runs through the entire Scripture: Jerusalem means 'city of peace'; Deuteronomy 15 states that there will be no more poor people. The psalm fits into this line: the Messiah will help the poor who cry out, the weak without help, the miserable who have no defence. The prayer of the psalm does not serve to remind God of his promises, because God does not forget. Instead, it serves to help man learn to look at the world through God's eyes, remember his plan and find the strength to work towards its realisation. Justice, peace and the liberation of the poor will not come about magically: God invites believers to cooperate, allowing themselves to be guided by the Holy Spirit with light, strength and grace.

Important points to remember: +Psalm 72 is messianic: written when there were no more kings, it announces the Messiah promised by God.+History has meaning: God has a plan of happiness for all humanity.+The promises to Abraham are the foundation: universal blessing and inheritance without borders.+The Messiah will be God's instrument, serving the people and not power.+The world to come will be marked by justice, peace and an end to poverty. +Prayer is not meant to convince God, but to educate us: it opens our eyes to God's plan. Peace and justice will also come through human commitment guided by the Spirit.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Romans (15:4-9)

Saint Paul writes to the Romans: 'Everything that was written before us was written for our instruction... so that we may keep hope alive'. This sentence is the key to reading the entire Bible: Scripture exists to enlighten, liberate and give hope. If a text seems obscure or difficult, it simply means that we have not yet fully understood it: the Good News is always present and we must dig to find it, as if it were a hidden treasure. Scripture nourishes hope because it proclaims on every page a single plan of God: that "merciful design" which is the great love story of God with humanity. The entire Bible, from the Old to the New Testament, has only one subject: the plan of salvation and communion that God wants to realise in the Messiah. Paul then moves on to a concrete theme: the Christians in Rome were divided. There were two groups: Christians who came from Judaism and were still attached to Jewish religious and dietary practices, and Christians who came from paganism and considered such observances outdated. This diversity gave rise to discord, mutual judgement and suspicion. Liturgical and cultural differences became real conflicts. This situation is very similar to the tensions that exist even today in the Church between different sensibilities. Paul does not propose dividing the community into two separate groups. Instead, he proposes the path of cohabitation, the building of peace, patience and mutual tolerance, inviting everyone to seek what promotes peace and what builds up the community. Let each one seek the good of the other, and may 'the God of perseverance and consolation' grant you to live in harmony according to Christ. The fundamental principle is: 'Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you'. Paul recalls that Christ took upon himself the mission of the Servant of God announced by Isaiah: chosen and elected by God, formed every morning by the Word, giver of his own life, bringer of salvation to all nations. Christ, by dying and rising again, united the Jews, saved in continuity with their Covenant, and the pagans, saved by God's gratuitous mercy. For this reason, no one can claim superiority; rather, everything is grace, everything is a gift from Christ, and true worship is this: to overcome the past, to recognise the gift received, to welcome one another without distinction, to sing together of God's faithfulness and mercy.

Important elements to remember: +Scripture exists to give hope. Every page of the Bible is Good News. If we do not find liberation, we have not yet understood the text. + The Bible proclaims a single plan. God's "providential plan" is to bring humanity to communion and salvation through the Messiah. +Paul corrects a divided community: In Rome, there were tensions between Christians of Jewish and pagan origin. Practical and cultural differences created judgements and conflicts. The Christian solution is not to separate. Paul proposes cohabitation, patience, and mutual edification. The community is a 'building' that must be constructed with peace and tolerance. +The model is Christ the Servant who united everyone: Jews and pagans. No one can boast: everything is grace. +The watchword: welcome: Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you. The Church is alive when it overcomes divisions and lives mercy.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (3:1-12)

When John the Baptist begins his preaching, Judea has been under Roman rule for 90 years, Herod is in power but deeply hated; religious currents are divided and confused; there are collaborators, resisters, false prophets, messianic agitators. The people are tired and disoriented, and it is in this climate that the preaching of John, who lives in the desert of Judea (between Jerusalem and the Jordan), begins. Matthew insists on the spiritual meaning of the desert: he recalls the Exodus, the Covenant, purification, the loving relationship between God and Israel (Hosea) and sees the desert as the place of return to truth and decision. In John, everything recalls the great prophets: he wears camel's hair, eats locusts and honey, and lives an ascetic lifestyle. Many consider him the possible return of Elijah, awaited to prepare for the coming of God (Malachi 3:23). His preaching has a double prophetic tone: sweet and comforting for the humble; harsh and provocative for the proud. The expression "brood of vipers" is not a personal insult, but a way of saying, "you are following the logic of the tempting serpent," and is therefore an invitation to change one's attitude. John invites everyone to make a righteous discernment in their lives: what is healthy remains, what is corrupt is eliminated. And to be incisive, he uses strong images: fire burning straw (a reference to the prophet Malachi), a sieve separating wheat from chaff, a threshing floor where the choice is made - and this is the meaning: everything in us that is death will be purified; everything that is authentic will be saved and preserved. It is a liberating judgement, not a destructive one. John announces Jesus: 'I baptise you with water, but the one who comes after me... will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire'. Only God can give the Spirit, and so John implicitly affirms the divinity of Jesus. The images used: 'Stronger than me' is a typical attribute of God. "I am not worthy to carry his sandals or untie his sandals": with this he recognises Jesus' divine dignity. Although he is a teacher followed by disciples, John puts himself in the second row; he recognises Jesus' superiority and paves the way for the Messiah. His greatness consists precisely in making room. Matthew shows him as a "voice in the desert" with reference to Isaiah 40:3, also linked to Elijah (2 Kings 1:8; Malachi 3:23), in the line of prophets to introduce Jesus as God present and judge. Chapters 3-4 of Matthew are a hinge: here begins the preaching of the Kingdom.

Important elements to remember: +John appears in a context of oppression and moral confusion: his word brings light and discernment. +The desert is a place of new covenant, truth and conversion. +John presents himself with prophetic signs (clothing, food, style) reminiscent of Elijah. +His preaching is twofold: consolation for the little ones, provocation for those who are sure of themselves. +Judgement is internal, not against categories of people: it purifies the evil in each person. Fire does not destroy man, but what is dead in him: it is a fire of love and truth. +Jesus accomplishes purification by baptising in the Holy Spirit, something that only God can do, and John recognises the divinity of Jesus with gestures of great humility. +The greatness of the Precursor lies in stepping aside to make room for the Messiah, and Matthew places him as a bridge between the Old and New Covenants, inaugurating the preaching of the Kingdom.

St John Chrysostom – Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12

'John appears in the desert not by chance, but to recall the ancient path of Israel.

Israel was educated in the desert, and now conversion begins again in the desert. His rough clothing and simple food show that he is free from all vanity, like Elijah. For this reason, the people, tired of the leaders of the time, flock to him: they see in John a truthful man who does not seek glory but leads to the truth." Chrysostom then explains the prophetic and moral content of John's preaching: By calling them a 'brood of vipers', he is not insulting them, but shaking them up so that they realise the poison that corrupts them. He does not attack people, but the evil that possesses them.

The judgement he announces is not against men, but against their evil deeds: fire burns guilt, not human nature." And regarding the announcement of the Messiah: "By saying, 'One more powerful than I is coming after me,' John does not compare himself to another man, but to God. For only God is said to be the Strong One. And when he adds, 'He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit', he openly confesses that the One who is coming has divine power. For this reason, he declares that he is not even worthy to untie his sandals: not because he despises himself, but because he recognises the greatness of Christ." Finally, Chrysostom interprets the mission of the Precursor:

"His greatness consists in diminishing so that Christ may grow. He is the voice that prepares the Word; he is the bridge that connects the Old Covenant to the New. He shows that all that the prophets awaited is now fulfilled: the King is near, and the Kingdom begins."

+Giovanni D'Ercole