A man, John, and a road, which is that of Jesus, indicated by the Baptist, but is also ours, in which we are all called at the moment of trial.

It starts from the figure of John, "the great John: in the words of Jesus "the greatest man born of a woman"" the reflection of Pope Francis in the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Friday 6 February. The Gospel of Mark (6:14-29) recounts the imprisonment and martyrdom of this "man faithful to his mission; the man who suffered many temptations" and who "never, never betrayed his vocation". A man 'faithful' and 'of great authority, respected by all: the great of that time'.

Pope Francis paused to analyse his figure: 'What came out of his mouth was right. His heart was just'. He was so great that "Jesus will also say of him that 'it is Elijah who has returned, to clean the house, to prepare the way'". And John "was conscious that his duty was only to proclaim: to announce the proximity of the Messiah. He was conscious, as St Augustine makes us reflect, that he was the voice only, the Word was another'. Even when "he was tempted to "rob" this truth, he remained just: "I am not, behind me comes, but I am not: I am the servant; I am the servant; I am the one who opens the doors, so that he may come".

At this point the Pontiff introduced the concept of the way, because, he recalled, 'John is the forerunner: forerunner not only of the Lord's entry into public life, but of the Lord's entire life'. The Baptist 'goes forward in the Lord's way; he bears witness to the Lord not only by showing him - "This is it!" - but also by bringing life to the end as the Lord has brought it'. And by ending his life "with martyrdom" he was "a forerunner of the life and death of Jesus Christ".

The Pope went on to reflect on these parallel paths along which "the great" suffers "many trials and becomes small, small, small to the point of contempt". John, like Jesus, "annihilates himself, he knows the road of annihilation. John, with all that authority, thinking about his life, comparing it with that of Jesus, tells people who he is, what his life will be like: 'It is better for him to grow, I instead must diminish'". This, the Pope stressed, is "the life of John: to diminish before Christ, so that Christ may grow". It is "the life of the servant who makes room, makes way for the Lord to come".

John's life "was not easy": in fact, "when Jesus began his public life", he was "close to the Essenes, that is, to the observants of the law, but also of prayers, of penances". Thus, at a certain point, during the time he was in prison, 'he suffered the ordeal of darkness, of the night in his soul'. And that scene, Francis commented, "moved: the great, the greatest sent two disciples to Jesus to ask him: 'But John asks you: is it you or have I made a mistake and must we wait for someone else?'" Along John's path therefore came 'the darkness of error, the darkness of a life burnt in error. And this was a cross for him".

To John's question "Jesus answers with the words of Isaiah": the Baptist "understands, but his heart remains in darkness". Nevertheless he lends himself to the demands of the king, 'who liked to hear him, who liked to lead an adulterous life', and 'almost became a court preacher, of this perplexed king'. But "he humbled himself" because "he thought he was converting this man".

Finally, the Pope said, 'after this purification, after this continuous descent into annihilation, making way for the annihilation of Jesus, his life ends'. That king from being perplexed 'becomes capable of a decision, but not because his heart has been converted'; rather 'because the wine gives him courage'.

And so John ends his life 'under the authority of a mediocre, drunken and corrupt king, at the whim of a dancer and the vengeful hatred of an adulteress'. Thus 'ends the great, the greatest man born of woman', commented Francis, who confessed: 'When I read this passage, I am moved'. And he added a useful consideration for the spiritual life of every Christian: "I think of two things: first, I think of our martyrs, the martyrs of our day, those men, women, children who are persecuted, hated, driven from their homes, tortured, massacred". And this, he stressed, 'is not a thing of the past: this happens today. Our martyrs, who end their lives under the corrupt authority of people who hate Jesus Christ'. Therefore, "it is good for us to think about our martyrs. Today we think of Paul Miki, but that was in the 1600s. Let us think of those of today, of 2015".

The Pontiff went on to add that this passage also prompts him to reflect on himself: 'I too will end. All of us will end. No one's life is 'bought'. We too, willingly or unwillingly, go down the road of the existential annihilation of life'. And this, he said, prompts him "to pray that this annihilation resembles Jesus Christ, his annihilation, as much as possible".

This closes the circle of Francis' meditation: 'John, the great, who continually diminishes to nothingness; the martyrs, who diminish today, in our Church of today, to nothingness; and we, who are on this road and going towards the earth, where we will all end'. In this sense the Pope's final prayer: "May the Lord enlighten us, make us understand this road of John, the forerunner of the road of Jesus; and the road of Jesus, who teaches us how ours should be."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 07.02.2015]

Wise souls, or mad ones

(Mt 25:1-13)

The theme is not that of moral vigilance, but punctual: sooner or later all the baptized in Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment does not seem the best: the groom is late, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go to build houses on the sand: at the first trickle is landslide, and everything collapses.

The enthusiasm was there, the harmony with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... maybe not.

It lacks a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivations and lubricates energy, in the impulse to the mission.

It is the outcome of those who seem to have welcomed the Beatitudes at all points, but do not make them their own...

Not for the fact that they do not fulfill well the role - a task - but because they do not relate the listening to the practice (not distracted, exquisitely evangelical).

Powering the torch is promoting life!

And the Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly; it does not set itself up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlations, personal tracks, attention to events and wisdom to correspond.

Here the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to intervene, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralyzed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at the "no" moments and do not know how to turn them into occasions of awakening, or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline and lack awareness.

Someone has to slow down and recollect himself, rediscover himself and the instinctive vocational lightness, his own infinite part - but avoiding childish strategies.

Others who have already accepted the divine, would need to wake up from numbness, to set in motion the wise and innate light they possess in deep inclinations.

Some need to throw ballasts, become more subtle in hearing and in offering themselves, or less dirigist; others need to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are people who must complicate their stories and then simplify [without dispersing] eventually becoming sharper; others and perhaps more, learning to donate. And so on.

So... better some with light than all in the dark. The actions and risk for wisdom, love and completeness of being build the Person and his dialogue.

One often imagines having provided for own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without elaborating his commitment.

But the person who neither edifies nor communicates life has nothing to do with God himself (v.12).

In this way, even the crisis can have an evolutionary sense; in not feeling absolute, in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus, to Freedom and the Feast.

The paradigm of this high and strong Call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of Mystery that arouses it.

To internalize and live the message:

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding Invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of waiting nothing any longer?

[Friday 21st wk. in O.T.  August 28, 2026]

Distraction in the waiting room, or a crisis with an evolutionary sense

(Mt 25:1-13)

The theme is not one of moral vigilance, but timely: sooner or later all those baptised into Christ fall asleep (v.5).

And the environment doesn't look the best: the groom is delayed, the girls are sleepy, some without oil and the others... sour.

But sometimes we are like madmen who go out to build houses on the sand: at the first flood everything collapses.

Enthusiasm is there, attunement with the Lord and his desire to embrace and transmit fullness of being... perhaps not.

What is missing is a dimension of depth, or of living hope that animates motivation and lubricates energy, in the impulse to mission.

This is the outcome of those who seem to have accepted the Beatitudes in full, but do not make them their own....

Not because they do not fulfil the role well - a task - but because they do not relate listening to the non-distracted, exquisitely evangelical practice.

To feed the torch is to promote life!

But how can we focus on it and not obfuscate it, or rather unblock it, and not allow ourselves to be influenced by the trappings, pull it out of the drawer; orient it well - in local and universal favour, one's own, and that of all?

The Appeal, the opportune moment, comes suddenly. It is not set up through a general or formal choice that evolves without correlation, without personal tracks, without attention to events and the ability to correspond.

In short: the relationship of Faith is not oil that can be lent.

As in a Love relationship, each one needs moment by moment a new personal balance - enhanced in fusion.

There are anxious or perfectionist souls who rush to act, but lack perception. There are fearful and paralysed hearts: they must acquire flexibility.

Some stare at "no" moments and do not know how to transform them into opportunities for awakening; or they heal too late. Others depend on the season or live on adrenaline, and lack awareness.

Some must slow down and collect themselves, rediscover themselves and their instinctive vocational lightness, their infinite part - but avoiding puerile strategies.

Others, who have already embraced the divine, would need to wake up from their torpor, to set in motion the wise, innate light they possess in their deepest inclinations.

Some need to shed ballast, to become more subtle in their hearing and presentation, or less dirigiste; others, to prepare for the Encounter in a more relational and visible dimension.

There are some who cannot help but complicate their lives, and then simplify [without dispersing], eventually becoming sharper; others, and perhaps more, learn to give. And so on.

So. to harmonise and invigorate the natural, passionate and vocational organism, better some with light than all in the dark - stuck in the waiting room, lost forever.

Jesus does not favour those slumbering in an empty spirituality without uniqueness - that is, those gripped by the instinct of self-protection. He does not seek first his own resources, what he already finds within himself; but what he obtains outside, or is given on demand, begged by others.

The unusual - perhaps undue - and personal listening, as well as the enterprising actions, the risk for wisdom, love, the stimulus to the completeness of being, build the Persona and its true dialogue.

Conformities do not produce breakthroughs; they persist in the torpid outline. 

The indistinct crowd without conviviality of differences - if mediocre, lacking in exploratory peaks, exceptions - pushes every unrepeatable Call to the bench.

Often one imagines one has made one's own practice with God by enrolling in parish registers, without fully processing the commitment. Perhaps for fear of risk or unforeseen hardship.

Then some zealous mannerists also assume prone attitudes of [formerly called] 'papist' appearance and [fake] orthodoxy - or vice versa, sophisticated, à la page.

Disembodied abstractions, which the Bridegroom is not interested in.

He who does not even work on himself, obviously according to the character of his own vocational inclinations, neither edifies nor communicates life.

He neither enriches nor cheers up even a cursory existence, of the weary times of waiting. Finally, it has nothing to do with God (v.12).

The paradigm of this high and strong call of the Gospel is the therapy that can regenerate the world subjugated by external homologations, so that it goes Elsewhere - and does not renounce the dimension of the Mystery that arouses it.

It is an appeal out of time for the Church itself, so that it does not settle for schemes, models, standard recipes, or to put things in place in a habitual way.

Nor does it get stuck in sick relationships, in nomenclatures of qualunquist support; resounding or museum-like. And thus find themselves outside the Feast, disoriented, overwhelmed; without even having activated themselves, humanising.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti recalls in no.33 [quoting a homily by Pope Francis in Skopje]:

"We fed ourselves with dreams of splendour and greatness and ended up eating distraction [losing] the taste and flavour of reality".

But even the crisis can have an evolutionary meaning: in accepting to be wrong, in becoming aware of imperfections.

In not feeling absolute; in the logic of options, in personalisation, in the unexpected and different encounter.

Threshold of every Exodus towards Freedom and Celebration.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you lost the meaning of the Wedding invitation? Or do you simply prefer to cross the Banquet threshold unscathed?

Is there an Encounter that you feel can awaken your life, or has the habit of waiting turned into a habit of not waiting any longer?

In order not to relapse

"The biblical readings of today's liturgy [...] invite us to prolong our reflection on eternal life [...]. On this point there is a clear difference between those who believe and those who do not believe, or, one might equally say, between those who hope and those who do not hope. In fact, St Paul writes to the Thessalonians: "We do not want to leave you in ignorance about those who have died, so that you may not be sad like the others who have no hope" ( 1 Thess 4:13). Faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ also marks a decisive watershed in this area. St Paul again reminds the Christians of Ephesus that, before accepting the Good News, they were "without hope and without God in the world" ( Eph 2:12). In fact, the religion of the Greeks, the pagan cults and myths, were unable to shed light on the mystery of death, so much so that an ancient inscription read: 'In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus', which means: 'Into nothingness from nothingness how soon we fall'. If we remove God, if we remove Christ, the world falls back into emptiness and darkness. And this is also reflected in the expressions of contemporary nihilism, an often unconscious nihilism that unfortunately infects so many young people.

Today's Gospel is a famous parable about ten girls invited to a wedding feast, a symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven, of eternal life (Mt 25:1-13). It is a happy image, with which, however, Jesus teaches a truth that challenges us; in fact, of those ten girls: five enter the feast, because, when the bridegroom arrives, they have the oil to light their lamps; while the other five remain outside, because, foolish, they did not bring the oil. What does this 'oil', indispensable to be admitted to the wedding feast, represent? St Augustine (cf. Sermons 93:4) and other ancient authors read in it a symbol of love, which cannot be bought, but is received as a gift, kept in one's heart and practised in one's works. True wisdom is to take advantage of mortal life to perform works of mercy, because after death, this will no longer be possible. When we are awakened for the last judgement, this will be on the basis of the love practised in earthly life (cf. Mt 25:31-46). And this love is Christ's gift, poured into us by the Holy Spirit. Whoever believes in God-Love carries within him an invincible hope, like a lamp with which to cross the night beyond death, and reach the great feast of life".

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 6 November 2011]

Dear brothers and sisters!

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

The Biblical Readings of this […] Liturgy invite us to extend the reflection on eternal life that we began on the occasion of the commemoration of the faithful departed. On this point there is a clear difference between those who believe and those who do not believe or, one might likewise say, between those who hope and those who do not hope.

Indeed St Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: “but we would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thess 4:13). Faith in the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ in this sphere too is a crucial divide. St Paul always reminded the Christians of Ephesus that before accepting the Good News they had been “separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world” (Eph 2:12). Indeed the religion of the Greeks, the pagan cults and myths, were unable to shed light on the mystery of death; thus an ancient inscription said: “In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidmus” which means: “how quickly we fall back from nothing to nothing”. If we remove God, we remove Christ and the world falls back into emptiness and darkness. Moreover, this is also confirmed in the expressions of contemporary nihilism that is often unconscious and, unfortunately, infects a great many young people.

Today’s Gospel is a famous parable that speaks of ten maidens invited to a wedding feast, a symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven and of eternal life (Mt 25:1-13). It is a happy image with which, however, Jesus teaches a truth that calls us into question. In fact five of those 10 maidens were admitted to the feast because when the bridegroom arrived they had brought the oil to light their lamps, whereas the other five were left outside because they had been foolish enough not to bring any. What is represented by this “oil”, the indispensable prerequisite for being admitted to the nuptial banquet?

St Augustine (cf. Discourses 93, 4), and other ancient authors interpreted it as a symbol of love that one cannot purchase but receives as a gift, preserves within one and uses in works. True wisdom is making the most of mortal life in order to do works of mercy, for after death this will no longer be possible. When we are reawoken for the Last Judgement, it will be made on the basis of the love we have shown in our earthly life (cf. Mt 25:31-46). And this love is a gift of Christ, poured out in us by the Holy Spirit. Those who believe in God-Love bear within them invincible hope, like a lamp to light them on their way through the night beyond death to arrive at the great feast of life.

Let us ask Mary, Sedes Sapientiae, to teach us true wisdom, the wisdom that became flesh in Jesus. He is the Way that leads from this life to God, to the Eternal One. He enabled us to know the Father’s face, and thus gave us hope full of love. This is why the Church addresses the Mother of the Lord with these words: “Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra” [our life, our sweetness and our hope]. Let us learn from her to live and die in the hope that never disappoints.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 6 November 2011]

1. Christ taught in parables, which were comprehensible to his hearers. Their content could be easily assimilated by the imagination. At the same time, their message opened the mind of their hearers to another reality: the kingdom of heaven. The divine, supernatural reality. Man is called to this reality. He is called to the kingdom of God, which begins here on earth, but which will find its ultimate realisation in the eternal city of God, in heaven. The kingdom of God also constitutes man's eschatological future. Of it Christ is the eyewitness: he is on the throne of the Father, as the consubstantial and eternal Son.

In the parable of the ten virgins, which we have heard, Jesus focuses his attention above all on the man invited to the heavenly banquet, called to participate in the divine future.

2. The parable of the ten virgins does not cease to be topical. Certainly, today the traditions related to the celebration of marriage have taken on different external forms. Nevertheless, the parable is always topical. It may be said that what is recounted in it also happens in our day. It happens here in Naples; it happens in the city and in each of its neighbourhoods; it happens in every parish, in every family, in every man.

What wedding is it about? Who is the bridegroom we are called to? The parable allows us to approach the mystery of God, expressed with the image of the wedding. It is about the wedding of Christ: He is the Bridegroom. He is the Bridegroom first of all as the Incarnate Word: the Son of God married humanity, our human nature, becoming man in the womb of the Virgin Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit.

By virtue of this first marriage, Christ, God-Man, married all men: for he became Man for all, to redeem and save all. Christ is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. His Bride is the Church, which he instituted, so that she might cooperate with him in the work of salvation. It is in her that the children of divine adoption are born and mature, called to share in the life of God in the likeness of the eternal and only-begotten Son.

6. Dear brothers and sisters, today's liturgy reminds us that our whole life is vigilant preparation for the encounter with the Bridegroom. "Watch and be ready"!

Here we must descend into the depths of every man. The Saviour shows us the way. In what does this evangelical 'watch', in what does the readiness of the wise virgins, of which the parable speaks, consist, if not precisely in what the Psalm proclaims? "O God, thou art my God, at dawn I seek thee, for thee my soul thirsts, for thee my flesh yearns, like a desert land, parched, without water" (Ps 62:2).

Sensitivity towards God; the awareness that he is present in the world, in this city, in each one of us. "For in him we live and move and exist" (Acts 17:28). From him we came forth coming into the light. And our life is a way that can lead nowhere else but to him.

Are we aware that this is the way of our life? Are we perhaps lost in steep places? Or are we perhaps now beginning to leave this high road? Are we, perhaps, similar to those virgins in the parable who dozed off and slept? They continue to sleep and do not perceive the coming of the bridegroom. Is there not a risk that not even the powerful shock of his death and resurrection will wake them up?

Yes. Let us admire the works of human genius, but let our eyes be wide open to recognise the works of divine Wisdom. Let our ears be wide open to hear the voice of the Bridegroom. Let not our lamps be extinguished, dimmed by a colluvia of information that leads to nothingness. They do not open up the divine perspectives to us; on the contrary, they prevent us from perceiving the voice of the Bridegroom and do not make us listen to the Church that cries out: "Go out to meet Him!".

7. We cannot remain in ignorance. Nor can we remain in ignorance about those who die (cf. 1 Thess 4:13) . . . about those who have died in your families, in your parishes, in your city. November is the month in which we remember the dead! We cannot remain in ignorance. Hopeless affliction is not enough.

Humanity today seems to underestimate the meaning of death. When the meaning of death is devalued, when the meaning of human life from the first moment of conception is also devalued, man falls into a dangerous slumber. He tries to slumber so as not to face the responsibilities that come with the greatness of his vocation and his God-given dignity. He tries not to perceive the voice of the Bridegroom! November is the month of the dead who live in God.

"For we believe that Jesus died and rose again; so also those who are dead, God will gather them through Jesus together with him" (1 Thess 4:14). Keep watch! Remember that we live immersed in the Communion of Saints. Let us therefore be ready - like the wise virgins in the parable - to enter together with Christ into the wedding of the kingdom of God.

The voice of the Church repeats: "Behold the Bridegroom, go meet him!". Watch, therefore, and be ready. Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, homily Naples 11 November 1990]

Jesus recounts the parable of the ten virgins invited to a wedding feast, symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven.

In Jesus’ time it was customary for weddings to be celebrated at night; so the procession of guests took place with lit lamps. Some of the bridesmaids are foolish: they take their lamps but do not take the oil with them; the wise ones instead take the oil with them together with their lamps. The bridegroom is late, late in coming, and they all fall asleep. When a voice alerts them that the bridegroom is about to arrive, in that moment, the foolish ones realize that they do not have oil for their lamps; they ask the wise ones for some, but the latter reply that they cannot give away any oil, because there would not be enough for them all. While the foolish maidens go to buy oil, the bridegroom arrives. The wise maidens enter the banquet hall with him, and the door is closed. The others arrive too late and are turned away.

It is clear that with this parable, Jesus wants to tell us that we must be prepared for the encounter with him. Not only for the final encounter, but also for the everyday great and small encounters, with a view to that encounter for which the lamp of faith is not enough; we also need the oil of charity and good works. As the Apostle Paul says, the faith that truly unites us to Jesus is, “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6). It is what is represented by the behaviour of the wise maidens. Being wise and prudent means not waiting until the last moment to correspond to God’s grace, but to do so actively and immediately, starting right now. “I… yes, I will convert soon…”. “Convert today! Change your life today!”. “Yes, yes, tomorrow”. And the same thing is said tomorrow, and so it never arrives. Today! If we want to be ready for the final encounter with the Lord, we must cooperate with him now and perform good deeds inspired by his love.

We know that unfortunately it happens that we forget the purpose of our life, that is, the definitive appointment with God, thus losing the sense of expectation and making the present absolute. When one makes the present absolute, one looks only to the present, losing the sense of expectation, which is so beautiful and so necessary, and also pulls us away from the contradictions of the moment. This attitude — when one loses the sense of expectation — precludes any view of the hereafter: we do everything as if we will never depart for the other life.

And so we care only about possessing, about emerging, about establishing ourselves… And always more. If we allow ourselves to be led by what seems most attractive to us, by what we like, by seeking our interests, our life becomes sterile; we do not accumulate any reserve of oil for our lamp, and it will be extinguished before the encounter with the Lord. We must live today, but a today that goes towards tomorrow, towards that encounter, a present full of hope. If, on the other hand, we are vigilant and correspond to God’s grace by doing good, we can serenely await the bridegroom’s coming. The Lord will be able to come even while we are sleeping: this will not worry us, because we have the reserve of oil accumulated through our daily good works, accumulated with that expectation of the Lord, that he may come as soon as possible and that he may come to take us with him.

Let us invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy, that she may help us to live an active faith, as she did: [faith] is the shining lamp with which we can pass through the night beyond death and reach the great feast of life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 8 November 2020]

(Mt 24:42-51)

Key to the reading of the Gospel could be the famous expression of St. Augustine: «Timeo Dominum transeuntem».

Incarnation is a direct thread with reality and divine condition together.

Time of the person of faith is like a season of waiting, but not of provisionality: rather, of continuous capitalization and upheaval.

Nor does the moment of the Church take the form of an institutional season, a period of pause - on schedule, with an expiration date.

Certainly, it is not even an age of preparation starting from our ideas, but of acceptance of the Kingdom, which comes in its Appeal - today with very clear proposals (even in subtractions).

We are called to be ready at all times, and fast as a ‘thief at night’... 

Maybe “he” wants to take away something that we believe absolutely ours, to wich we are too attached.

From the earliest generations of believers there were groups of visionaries - unfortunately unwary - linked to an idea of imminent catastrophe.

The expectation of the sudden ‘return’ of a Messiah who was to put an end to injustice and to carry out the Final Judgment, was a common expectation of those who wished a new phase of history to be inaugurated.

However, nowhere in the Gospels is it written: Jesus "returns", as if he had strayed away.

He is arriving, of course: «He comes» - he does not "come back".

In the New Testament, the Risen is the One Coming [‘o Erchòmenos], that is, the One who breaks in, who ceaselessly makes himself Present.

The point of Life is to realize, to perceive the Presence of Someone inside something; in day-to-day things and in the events of liberation.

Even in the drama of rebirth from global crisis.

No form of alienation comes from the Gospels: Christ is «with us» at all times; in our commitment to nature, to cultures, to everyone’s existence.

The full, total experience of completeness is not given in particular time. 

But eg. the spirit of disinterest that spreads and already makes relationships and things new remains a guarantee of the Kingdom.

Seed and prelude to the alternative world that the Church is called to proclaim and build - including it with open arms.

With at the centre the «Son of Man» who «comes», step by step, we’ll not lose our understanding.

Every moment is good for sharpening perspicacity in the Spirit.

Flexibility of the heart will prevail over predictions, over the imperatives of the mind.

This is the realization and perception of opportunities; opening our eyes, deciphering events, shifting our gaze - in order to grasp the Coming of the Lord, smelling its Meaning, intuiting it as Source of Hope.

In the Eucharist we proclaim precisely the Coming of the Lord, because life in Christ is in every event anticipation and preparation for the spousal Encounter.

From the point of view of Faith, any critical moment cooperates in the good.

It is a Call and opportunity for response, not permanent fear.

[Thursday 21th wk. in O.T.  August 27, 2026]

Coming, Prayer and turning point, amid the roar of the waves.

(Mt 24:37-51)

What kind of Coming is it?

And why do we want the Lord to be present in our lives?

Are we waiting for a shortcut - an act of power - that will calm the stormy sea?

Indeed, it does not seem in keeping with the style of Good News to resurrect the 'days of Noah' and the flood that 'swept away all'.

But there is a wise way of understanding these expressions, which is not the one already found in the moral paradigm of religious cultures.

In the observant tradition of all peoples, insecurity is perceived as a disadvantage.

According to commonplace ideas, spiritual masters see progress when a soul with a mixed and disordered existence overcomes its turmoil in favour of order and tranquillity.

But the experience in the Spirit is more intimately restless than obvious. Nor is it the same as a generic 'spiritual life' animated by a devout sense that detaches itself from transversal instances, for an ideal of 'coherent calm'.

Thus conditioned by indoctrination that is standardised to 'being in society', we piously wait to meet our Lord in dark moments, but only so that he may restore our fortune.

We wait for him in times of economic hardship, so that he may give us an advantage with a win; in humiliating circumstances, so that he may help us get back on our feet.

In loneliness, so that he may bring us together with the right person. 

In danger... hoping that at least He will give us the strength to turn the situation around.

And in sickness, we imagine that he will restore our youthful vigour.

Thus, in the Babel, that (at least in the end) he will communicate relaxation - better still, triumph.

In the Gospels, Jesus tries to make his followers understand where and when to encounter God authentically.

But as we wait for his 'Promises' - and for him to manifest himself as a new Justice, without any more 'art of war' [first reading] - we find it difficult to go beyond the exterior.

We project our ideas even onto religion - but Faith detaches itself from them. It evaluates with a different mindset.

For example, we may fail to meet a friend because we get the time and place of the appointment wrong.

The same thing happens with God.

The uncertainty proclaimed by the Gospels is like a 'flood that sweeps everything away' [cf. v. 39]... but it is Good News!

Although we tend to give a sense of permanence to what we have experienced and believed ourselves to be, we repeatedly experience that our certainties change - just like the waves.

Jesus teaches that true doubt paradoxically arises from some aspect of our identity that (comically) attempts to balance the waves of life.

Instead, the essence of each of us flows from a lively Source, which does what it must every day.

Habits, perspectives, reassuring ways of being with people and dealing with situations cut off the richness of our precious nuances; a large part of our very faces.

And the births and rejuvenations that belong to us.

The inner impact of the many stimuli of this cosmic [and personal] Core insinuates an inevitable and fruitful imbalance, which we risk interpreting in a negative way; precisely, as a nuisance.

In the mind of the person who avoids oscillations, that kind of 'wave' that comes to make us think about ancient things is immediately identified as a threat to our identity.

Providence itself – the 'wave' that sees ahead – is perhaps branded with restlessness, even by those who advise us.

In the ideal man, as chiselled by normalising moralism, the swampy 'water' of the drives is what dirties and drags us down. And the sky would always be clear and clean 'above' the earth.

Instead, it is often thought, a cultural identification upstream, that produces insecurity and torment.

Prejudice oppresses us far more than objective reality, which comes into play to refresh our soul and make it as light as the 'sea foam' crudely embodied.

For an evolution towards improvement, Jesus wants a disciple who is permeable to the New that shakes up the old 'status quo'.

The lack of doubt that the Lord intends to convey does not rhyme with the mechanism of habit.

The certainty he wishes to give us is not a false one - that of the lazy immutability of things that are always the same.

The state of defence and 'prevention' may be characteristic of a life spent in self-interested withdrawal, dodging shocks - not a sign of Life in the Spirit.

Today's Gospel wishes believers to be strongly critical, and even insecure: it does not say 'you must be like this', nor 'you are this' - 'we have made it, why not you?'.

[The identity of St. Benedict is not that of St. Francis, although both are figures deeply rooted (like the circumstances) in the same Source; the original source, however, of gushing water].

We must dive into the 'waves', we must know these 'waves'; because our anchor is not in external things or in what we display in shop windows, but in the Source of Being.

The shell of appearances condemns us to the worst kind of fluctuation, to the least advantageous of insecurities: believing that by maintaining (for example) our economic status or prestige, by reaching that goal, by climbing the ladder of success, and so on, we will avoid frustration, we will escape anxiety, we will finally be free of conflict and even happy.

But in this way, our soul is not strengthened, nor does it fly towards unknown territories; rather, it settles in the most conformist enclosure.

Instead, we are alive, and the youth that conquers the Kingdom comes from the chaos of upheavals.

Missionaries are animated by this one certainty: the best stability is instability: that 'roar of the sea and the waves' where no two waves are alike.

In short, based on the Word of God, perhaps even the liturgical colour purple should be reinterpreted - in a much more vital, incisive and profound way than we thought we understood.

To internalise and live the message:

Advent: why do you want the Lord to come and be present in your life? 

Vigilance is now

(Mt 24:42-51)

    The key to understanding this passage could be St Augustine's famous expression: 'Timeo Dominum transeuntem'. Incarnation is a direct link between reality and the divine condition.

The time of the person of Faith is like a season of waiting, but not of impermanence: rather, it is one of continuous capitalisation and transformation.

Nor is the moment of the Church configured as an institutional period, a pause with a set time and an expiry date.

Of course, it is not even a time of preparation based on our ideas, but rather of welcoming the Kingdom, which comes in its Appeal - today with very clear proposals (even in its subtractions).

We are called to be ready at every moment, and quick as a "thief in the night"... perhaps he wants to take away something that we believe is absolutely ours, but to which we are too attached.

From the earliest generations of believers, groups of visionaries arose - unfortunately misguided - connected to an idea of imminent catastrophe.

The expectation of the sudden "return" of a Messiah who was to put an end to injustice and bring about the Final Judgment was common among those who desired the beginning of a new phase in history.

However, nowhere in the Gospels is it written that Jesus 'returns', as if he had left. He is coming, certainly: 'He is coming' - not 'He returns'.

In the New Testament, the Risen One is the Coming One [‘o Erchòmenos], that is, the One who bursts in, who incessantly makes himself present.

The end of the world and the return of the Lord on a white cloud is a suggestion that is still used today to intimidate simple people and condition them into fanatical groups. Social networks are full of it.

The point of Life is to notice, to perceive the Presence of Someone within something, in the summary things and in the events of liberation; even in the drama of rebirth from the global crisis.

No form of alienation comes from the Gospels: Christ is with us at all times, in our commitment to nature, cultures and the life of all.

The full, total experience of completeness is not given in a particular time. But, for example, the spirit of selflessness that is spreading and already making relationships and things new remains a guarantee of the Kingdom.

It is the seed and prelude to the new world that the Church is called to proclaim and build, welcoming it with open arms.

With the 'Son of Man' who 'is coming' at the centre, step by step, let us not lose sight of the goal.

Every moment is a good moment to sharpen our discernment in the Spirit. Flexibility of heart will prevail over predictions and the imperatives of the mind.

This is how we become aware of and perceive opportunities; open our eyes, decipher events, shift our gaze - in order to grasp the Coming of the Lord, sense its meaning, intuit it as a source of Hope.

In the Eucharist, we proclaim the Coming of the Lord, because life in Christ is, in every event, anticipation and preparation for the Spousal Encounter.

From the perspective of Faith, every critical moment cooperates for good. It is a call and an opportunity to respond, not a permanent fear.

Son of Man

'Son of Man' is therefore not a 'religious' or selective title, but a possibility for all those who adhere to the Lord's proposal of life and reinterpret it in a creative way.

They overcome their fixed and natural boundaries, making room for the Gift; welcoming from God the fullness of being, in its new, unrepeatable paths.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, they discover other facets of themselves, change the way they are with themselves, and can grow: they fulfil themselves, blossom and radiate the completeness they have received.

By leaving behind the poor or static idea we have of ourselves—a serious problem in many sensitive and dedicated souls—even the relational personality can begin to imagine.

And dream, discovering that it no longer has to give weight to those who want to influence a person's journey (in the fullness of being and vocation).

Those who activate the idea that they can do it then transmit the power of the Spirit they have received and welcomed, and the world flourishes.

By emanating a different atmosphere, people who are integrated in all their aspects, even their opposite ones, feel awareness arise, create projects, emit and attract other energies, and activate them.

God wants to extend the sphere in which he 'reigns' - relating in an interpersonal way - to all humanity... A Church without visible boundaries, which will begin with the 'Son of Man' (a figure not exclusive to Jesus).

This universalistic perspective emerges, among other things, from Jesus' presentation of himself not only as 'Son of David' but as 'Son of Man' (Mk 10:33). The title 'Son of Man', in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), refers to the figure who comes 'with the clouds of heaven' (v. 13) and is an image that heralds a completely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to himself to reveal the true character of his messianism, as a mission destined for all people and for every person, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters this new kingdom, which the Church proclaims and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion.

[Pope Benedict, Consistory, 24 November 2012]

With the image of the Son of Man, the prophet Daniel already wanted to indicate a reversal of the criteria of authenticity (human and divine): a man or a people, a leader, finally with a heart of flesh instead of a beast.

In the icon of the 'Son of Man', the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman, the gradual disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full life.

The People who shine in a divine way are no longer entangled in fears or hysteria, but rather bring to the fore all their varied potential for love and the effusion of life.

The 'Son of Man' - a possible reality - is anyone who reaches fulfilment, the flowering of their capacity to be, in the extension of relationships... entering into harmony with the sphere of God the Creator, the Lover of life.

They do so in their varied facets, and merge with Him - becoming One. Creating abundance.

"Son of Man" is the man who behaves on earth as God himself would, who makes the divine and its power present in history.

He can therefore afford to replace the sombre seriousness of being pious and submissive with the wise light-heartedness that makes everything light.

"Son of Man" represents the highest form of humanity, the Person par excellence - who becomes liberating instead of oppressive.

The consequences are unimaginable, because each of us in Christ (and for our brothers and sisters) no longer has dead paths to retrace.

"Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Mt 24:42). Jesus, who came among us at Christmas and will return in glory at the end of time, never tires of visiting us continually, in the events of every day. He asks us and warns us to wait for him, keeping watch, because his coming cannot be planned or predicted, but will be sudden and unpredictable. Only those who are awake will not be caught off guard. He warns us not to let what happened in Noah's time happen to us, when people were eating and drinking carefree and were caught unprepared by the flood (cf. Mt 24:37-38). What does the Lord want us to understand with this warning, if not that we must not allow ourselves to be absorbed by material realities and concerns to the point of becoming ensnared?

"Watch therefore..." Let us listen to Jesus' invitation in the Gospel and prepare ourselves to relive with faith the mystery of the birth of the Redeemer, who filled the universe with joy; let us prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord in his unceasing coming to meet us in the events of life, in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness; let us prepare ourselves to meet him in his final coming. His passing is always a source of peace, and if suffering, the legacy of human nature, sometimes becomes almost unbearable, with the coming of the Saviour "suffering - without ceasing to be suffering - becomes, in spite of everything, a song of praise" (Encyclical Spe salvi, 37).

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Roman hospital of St. John the Baptist, 2 December 2007]

"Watch, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Mt 24: 42). Jesus, who came among us at Christmas and will return in glory at the end of time, does not tire of visiting us continuously in everyday events. He asks us to be alert to perceive his presence, his advent, and recommends that we watch and wait for him since his coming is not programmed or foretold but will be sudden and unexpected. Only those who are alert are not taken by surprise. He warns: may it not happen to you as in Noah's day, when men ate and drank heedlessly and were swept away unprepared by the flood (cf. Mt 24: 37-38). What does the Lord want to make us understand with this warning, other than we must not let ourselves be absorbed by material realities and concerns to the point of being ensnared by them? We must live in the eyes of the Lord with the conviction that he can make himself present. If we live in this way, the world will become better. 

"Watch, therefore". Let us listen to Jesus' Gospel invitation and prepare ourselves to relive with faith the mystery of the Redeemer's birth, which filled all the world with joy; let us prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord in his constant coming to us in the events of life, in joy and in pain, in health and in sickness; let us prepare ourselves to meet him at his definitive coming. His nearness is always a source of peace, and if suffering, a legacy of human nature, sometimes becomes unbearable, with the Saviour's advent "suffering - without ceasing to be suffering - becomes, despite everything, a hymn of praise" (Spe Salvi, n. 37).

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Roman hospital of St. John the Baptist, 2 December 2007]

1. “Faith is the foundation of things hoped for, the proof of things not seen” (Heb 11:1).
These are the words of the author of the Letter to the Hebrews in today’s second reading.

Faith, which brings man from the world of visible things to the invisible reality of God and eternal life, resembles the journey to which Abraham was called by God - and for this reason he is called "the father of all who believe" (cf. Rom 4:11-12). Later in the Letter to the Hebrews, we read: "By faith Abraham, when called, obeyed and went out to a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived in the land of promise . . ." (Heb 11:8-9). Yes, that is how it is. Faith is the spiritual pilgrimage on which man sets out, following the word of the living God, to reach the land of promised peace and happiness, union with God "face to face"; that union which will fill the human heart with the deepest hunger and thirst: the hunger for truth and the thirst for love.

Therefore, as we hear later in today's liturgy, the attitude of mind that befits the believer is one of vigilance: 'You too must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him' (Lk 12:40). Such vigilance is also an expression of spiritual aspiration to God through faith.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus, 10 August 1980]