"Prayer and witness" are the "two tasks of the bishops" who are "pillars of the Church". But if they weaken, the whole people of God suffers. That is why, Pope Francis asked during the mass celebrated on Friday morning 22 January in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta, we must pray insistently for the successors of the twelve apostles.

The Pontiff's reflection on the figure and mission of the bishop started from the passage from the evangelist Mark (3:13-19) proclaimed during today's liturgy. "There is a word in this Gospel passage that attracts attention: Jesus 'constituted'". And this word "appears twice". In fact, Mark writes: "'He constituted twelve, whom he called apostles'". And then he resumes: 'He therefore constituted the twelve', and names them, one after the other'. Therefore, the Pontiff explained, 'Jesus, among so many people who followed him - the Gospel tells us - "called to himself those he wanted"'. In short, 'there is a choice: Jesus chose those whom He wanted'. And, indeed, "he constituted twelve. Whom he called apostles'. In fact, Francis continued, "there were others: there were the disciples" and "the Gospel speaks of seventy-two, on one occasion". But 'these were something else'.

The "twelve are constituted so that they might be with Him and to send them out to preach with the power to cast out demons," the Pope explained. "This is the most important group that Jesus chose, 'so that they might be with Him', closer, 'and to send them out to preach' the Gospel." And "with the power to cast out demons," Mark further added. Precisely those 'twelve are the first bishops, the first group of bishops'.

These twelve 'chosen ones,' Francis noted, 'were aware of the importance of this election, so much so that after Jesus had been taken up into heaven, Peter spoke to the others and explained to them that, given Judas' betrayal, it was necessary to do something'. And so from among those who had been with Jesus, from John's baptism until his ascension, they chose "a witness 'with us' - says Peter - of the resurrection". Here, continued the Pope, that "the place of Judas is filled, it is taken by Matthias: Matthias is chosen".

Then "the liturgy of the Church, referring to "some expressions of Paul", calls the twelve "the pillars of the Church". Yes, said the Pontiff, 'the apostles are the pillars of the Church. And the bishops are the columns of the Church. That election of Matthias was the first episcopal ordination of the Church'.

"I would like to say a few words today about bishops," Francis confided. "We bishops have this responsibility to be witnesses: witnesses that the Lord Jesus is alive, that the Lord Jesus is risen, that the Lord Jesus walks with us, that the Lord Jesus saves us, that the Lord Jesus gave his life for us, that the Lord Jesus is our hope, that the Lord Jesus always welcomes us and forgives us." Here is 'the testimony'. Consequently, he continued, 'our life must be this: a testimony, a true testimony to the resurrection of Christ'.

And when Jesus, as Mark recounts, makes "this choice" of the twelve, he has two reasons. Firstly, "so that they might be with Him". Therefore "the bishop has the obligation to be with Jesus". Yes, "it is the bishop's first obligation: to be with Jesus". And it is true "to such an extent that when the problem arose, in the early days, that orphans and widows were not well cared for, the bishops - these twelve - got together and thought about what to do". And "they introduced the figure of the deacons, saying: 'Let the deacons take care of the orphans, of the widows'". While the twelve, "says Peter", are assigned "two tasks: prayer and the proclamation of the Gospel".

Therefore, Francis reiterated, "the first task of the bishop is to be with Jesus in prayer". In fact, "the bishop's first task is not to make pastoral plans... no, no!". It is "to pray: this is the first task". While 'the second task is to be a witness, that is to preach: to preach the salvation that the Lord Jesus brought us'.

They are 'two tasks that are not easy,' the Pontiff acknowledged, 'but it is precisely these two tasks that make the columns of the Church strong'. In fact, "if these columns weaken, because the bishop does not pray or prays little, he forgets to pray; or because the bishop does not proclaim the Gospel, he occupies himself with other things, the Church also weakens; it suffers. The people of God suffer". Precisely 'because the pillars are weak'.

For this reason, Francis said, 'I would like to invite you today to pray for us bishops: because we too are sinners, we too have weaknesses, we too have the danger of Judas: he too was elected as a pillar'. Yes, he continued, 'we too run the danger of not praying, of doing something other than proclaiming the Gospel and casting out demons'. Hence, the Pope reiterated, the invitation to "pray that the bishops be what Jesus wanted and that we all bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus".

Moreover, he added, "the people of God pray for the bishops, in every mass we pray for the bishops: we pray for Peter, the head of the episcopal college, and we pray for the local bishop". But 'this may not be enough: one says the name out of habit and moves on'. It is important "to pray for the bishop with the heart, to ask the Lord: 'Lord, take care of my bishop; take care of all the bishops, and send us bishops who are true witnesses, bishops who pray and bishops who help us, with their preaching, to understand the Gospel, to be sure that You, Lord, are alive, are among us'".

Before resuming the celebration, the Pope suggested, again, to pray "therefore for our bishops: it is a task of the faithful". In fact, 'the Church without a bishop cannot go on'. Here, then, that "the prayer of all of us for our bishops is an obligation, but an obligation of love, an obligation of children towards the Father, an obligation of brothers, so that the family may remain united in the confession of Jesus Christ, living and risen".

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 23/01/2016]

From the inside and in domestic

(Lk 13:18-21)

The two parables were set forth at a time of doubt about the Master’s proposal and the mission of his intimates.

A small group of faithful without social connection, could say something to the world?

Despite the commitment, women and men are struggling in all their ancient problems; they feel the weight of suffering and anguish: at first glance everything looks the same (disconnected, chaotic, fragmentary).

What is the point of the small hope of a few believers without a flashy heritage, for the cultural and civic concert - today global?

It seems that in the reality of the cosmos nothing changes... but the Granule has been thrown into the furrow of the earth.

It seems that human pasta is the same as always, but a Yeast is renewing it all, from within.

Jesus was like a seed planted in darkness, nothing sensational. And thrown like in the vegetable garden of the house [v.19 Greek text].

However, the mustard bean has an incredible and intrinsic evolutionary force.

Of course, the moment of growth ends with a very simple tree - a shrub like many, subjected to the weather... yet able to give rest and shelter to anyone who passes (v.19).

Then it is enough to put a pinch of yeast in the mass to make it completely ferment.

The yeast does not stand out, it is hidden: it disappears inside. And at that time everything was kept in a simple home bread chest.

Deepening life in the Spirit, we repeatedly realize that we have only seen in part: there is still much [more] to discover - in relation to the development of ordinary life.

Despite the megalomaniacs, the dimensions of the Kingdom of God, the universe of the soul, and the Mission, are not immediately and completely verifiable.

We have to enter a process, personal and all hidden - therefore authentically springy, convinced, and paradoxically wide open.

In fact, even «when the work is done, withdrawing is the Way of Heaven» [Tao Tê Ching, ix].

On the horizon of every journey there is always a new plant, another ‘genesis’, a different flowering in the time of the seasons; an unprecedented effervescence, to be introduced into the ancient arrangement already capitalized.

But seed and ferment work unknown.

Lack of spotlight, poor situation, smallness... are not obstacles to growth, but the condition.

What seems nothing becomes what Creation awaits.

It is seen hardly or at all - but giving time without forcing and hastening, it gets the cordial and domestic evolution that does not clash with God and the leasts.

To internalize and live the message:

What sensational cunning tried to destroy your land?

What conformity made you pale?

What subdued and calibrated Word on you has not produced hustle and bustle, but has regenerated your passion, and has expanded life?

[Tuesday 30th wk. in O.T.  October 27, 2026]

From within and in the domestic

(Lk 13:18-21)

The two parables were expounded at a time of doubt about the Master's proposal and the mission of his people.

Could a small group of believers with no social connection say anything to the world?

In spite of their commitment, women and men struggle with all their old problems, they feel the weight of suffering and anguish: at first glance everything seems the same, disconnected, chaotic, fragmentary.

What sense does the small hope of a few believers without a conspicuous heritage have for the cultural and civic concert - today global -?

It seems that in the reality of the cosmos nothing changes... but the Grain has been cast into the furrow of the earth.

It seems that the human dough is the same as ever, but a Leaven is renewing it all, from within.

Jesus was like a seed planted in the darkness, nothing sensational. And sown as in the kitchen garden [v.19 Greek text] where no sensational parades are cultivated, but simple potatoes, salad, aubergines, cucumbers, tomatoes - normal things, no big deal.

The mustard seed, however, has an incredible and intrinsic evolutionary power.

Of course, the moment of growth ends with a very simple sapling - a shrub like so many, subjected to the elements... yet able to give rest and shelter to anyone who passes by (v.19).

This brings the final miracle: 'a form of life with the flavour of the Gospel [...] that goes beyond the barriers of geography and space. Here [St Francis] declares blessed the one who loves the other when he is far from him, as much as if he were next to him'.

Although taken from expressions of the First Testament, in the features described by Lk the evangelical figure of the birds of the air illustrates "the essence of an open fraternity, which allows one to recognise, appreciate and love each person beyond physical proximity, beyond the place in the world where he or she was born or where he or she lives" [cf.]

The experience of the Saint of Assisi with a "heart without boundaries, capable of going beyond distances" introduces a logic of dialogue that avoids "any form of aggression or contention and also of living a humble and fraternal submission" - without ever imposing a "dialectical war" or "doctrines" [FT, 3-4].

So it is enough to put a pinch of yeast in the mass to make it fully ferment.

The leaven does not stand out, it is hidden: it disappears inside. And at that time everything was stored in a simple household cupboard.

As we delve deeper into life in the Spirit, we repeatedly realise that we have only seen in part: there is still much (more) to be discovered - in relation to the development of ordinary life.

So we guess it is basically within everyone's grasp; certainly not mysterious, nor can it be acquired in any of the disciplines of the arcane.

In short, megalomaniacs notwithstanding, the dimensions of the Kingdom of God, the universe of the soul, and the Mission are not something that can be verified immediately and completely.

One must enter into a process, personal and all-concealed - for this is authentically emergent, convinced, and paradoxically wide-open.

Indeed, even 'when the work is done, retreating is the Way to Heaven' [Tao Tê Ching, ix].

On the horizon of every path, there is always a new plant, another 'genesis', a different blossoming in the time of the seasons; a new effervescence, to be introduced into the already capitalised old arrangement.

This hidden radiance and vitality of the intuitive and missionary heart, does not belong to 'cultural' or collective rituals, nor to side duties.

Artificial passes make us prisoners of conditioning that blunt perception and dampen the mission for which we were born.

On the contrary, breaking out of the herd that gives birth to the usual pale (only drugged) models of interpretation will be an opportunity to discover something new.

We will also astound ourselves with our own intimate propulsive capacities - accompanied only by the Friend who sees in the secret.

Seed and ferment work unknown.

Lack of spotlight, poor situation, littleness... these are not obstacles to growth, but the condition.

What seems nothing becomes what Creation awaits.

It is barely visible or not at all - but by giving time without forcing and rushing, it achieves the friendly and domestic evolution that does not clash with God and the least.

The Church to come will not be intrusive: it will not demand adherence [on pain of exclusion].

That is why the dynamism of growth will be out of scale, but only in terms of human and hospitable capacities (v.19), not in terms of excited magnificence.

Deprived of clamorous, resounding and sought-after magnificence, the new divine Bride will be caught in the attitude of fullness. But only because it will correspond to the project of complete life that dwells in our breasts, and we mysteriously sense it to be ours.

We will understand: it will make everyone feel good.

The insecure will become decisive, the loser will be transformed by Grace into the wise. We will understand that to accept the Word and correspond to one's personal Vocation will not be terrifying, but regenerating.

Those who do not wrap themselves up but will shift their thoughts, point everything, will bring out their essence.

We will realise that our being is already calibrated on innate, subdued, personally-matched plots.

In the Spirit and in real life, we will discover the qualitative and special Magnificent that the more conformist and hasty, less dialogic or capable of listening, do not even remotely imagine could excel.

To internalise and live the message:

What sensational cunning has attempted to destroy your land?

What conformity - even of clan - has made you pale?

What subdued Word calibrated to you did not produce turmoil, but regenerated your passion, and expanded your life?

Being Christians, we know that the future is ours and the tree of the Church is not a tree that is dying but a tree that constantly puts out new shoots. Therefore we have a reason not to let ourselves be upset, as Pope John said, by the prophets of doom who say: well, the Church is a tree that grew from the mustard seed, grew for two thousand years, now she has time behind her, it is now time for her to die. No. The Church is ever renewed, she is always reborn. The future belongs to us. Of course, there is a false optimism and a false pessimism. A false pessimism tells us that the epoch of Christianity is over. No: it is beginning again! The false optimism was the post-Council optimism, when convents closed, seminaries closed and they said “but... nothing, everything is fine!”.... No! Everything is not fine. There are also serious, dangerous omissions and we have to recognize with healthy realism that in this way things are not all right, it is not all right when errors are made. However, we must also be certain at the same time that if, here and there, the Church is dying because of the sins of men and women, because of their non-belief, at the same time she is reborn. The future really belongs to God: this is the great certainty of our life, the great, true optimism that we know. The Church is the tree of God that lives for ever and bears within her eternity and the true inheritance: eternal life.

[Pope Benedict at the Roman Seminary, 8 February 2013]

2. Jesus says: "The Kingdom of God is like a man who sows a seed in the earth: sleep or wake, night or day, the seed germinates and grows; how, he himself does not know. For the earth produces spontaneously, first the stalk, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. When the fruit is ready, immediately you put your hand to the sickle, because the harvest has come" (Mk 4:26-29). So the Kingdom of God grows here on earth, in human history, by virtue of an initial sowing, that is, of a foundation, which comes from God, and of a mysterious working of God himself, which continues to cultivate the Church down the centuries. In God's work for the Kingdom, the sickle of sacrifice is also present: the development of the Kingdom is not achieved without suffering. This is the meaning of the parable in Mark's Gospel.

3. We also find the same concept in other parables, especially those gathered in Matthew's text (Mt 13:3-50).

"The kingdom of heaven," we read in this Gospel, "can be compared to a mustard seed, which a man takes and sows in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown, it is larger than all the other seeds and becomes a tree, so that the birds of heaven nestle among its branches" (Mt 13:31). This is the growth of the kingdom in the "extensive" sense.

Another parable, on the other hand, shows its growth in an "intensive" or qualitative sense, comparing it to the yeast, which a woman took and mixed with three measures of flour so that it all fermented" (Mt 13:32).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 25 September 1991]

Do Christians 'really believe' in the 'power of the Holy Spirit' within them? And do they have the courage to "sow the seed", to get involved, or do they take refuge in a "pastoral of conservation" that does not let "the Kingdom of God grow"? These are the questions posed by Pope Francis during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Tuesday 31 October, in which he outlined a horizon of "hope", for each individual man and for the Church as a community: that of the full realisation of the Kingdom of God, which has two pillars: the disruptive "force" of the Spirit and the "courage" to let this force be unleashed.

The cue came to the Pontiff from the reading of the Gospel passage (Luke 13:18-21) in which "it seems that Jesus struggles a bit: 'But how can I explain the Kingdom of God? To what can I compare it?"" and uses "two simple examples from everyday life": those of the mustard seed and the yeast. They are, Francis explained, both small, they seem harmless, "but when they enter into that movement, they have within them a power that comes out of themselves and grows, it goes beyond, even beyond what can be imagined". Precisely 'this is the mystery of the Kingdom'.

The reality, in fact, is that 'the wheat has power within, the leaven has power within', and also 'the power of the Kingdom of God comes from within; the power comes from within, the growing comes from within'. It is not, the Pope added with a comparison that refers to current events, "a growth as for example occurs in the case of a football team when the number of fans increases and makes the team bigger", but "it comes from within". A concept that, he added, is taken up by Paul in the Letter to the Romans (8:18-25) in a passage "that is full of tension", because "this growth of the Kingdom of God from within, from within, is a growth in tension".

So the apostle explains: "How many tensions are there in our lives and where they lead us", and says that "the sufferings of this life are not comparable to the glory that awaits us". But even the 'waiting' itself, said the Pontiff rereading the epistle, is not a 'quiet' waiting: Paul speaks 'of ardent expectation. There is an ardent expectation in these tensions'. Moreover, this expectation is not only of man, but "also of creation" which is "stretched out towards the revelation of the sons of God". In fact, "creation too, like us, has been subjected to transience" and proceeds in the "hope that it will be freed from the bondage of corruption". Therefore, "it is the whole creation that from the existential transience it perceives, goes right to glory, to freedom from slavery; it leads us to freedom. And this creation - and we with it, with creation - groans and suffers the pains of childbirth to this day'.

The conclusion of this reasoning led the Pope to relaunch the concept of 'hope': man and the whole creation possess 'the firstfruits of the Spirit', that is, 'the internal force that carries us forward and gives us hope' of the 'fullness of the Kingdom of God'. That is why the Apostle Paul wrote "that phrase that teaches us so much: 'For in hope we have been saved'".

It, the Pontiff continued, is a 'path', it is 'that which leads us to fullness, the hope of coming out of this prison, out of this limitation, out of this slavery, out of this corruption and arriving at glory'. And it is, he added, "a gift of the Spirit" that "is within us and leads to this: to a great thing, to a liberation, to a great glory. And that is why Jesus says: 'Inside the mustard seed, that tiny grain, there is a power that unleashes unimaginable growth'".

Here then is the reality foreshadowed by the parable: "Within us and in creation - because we are going together towards glory - there is a force that unleashes: there is the Holy Spirit. That gives us hope'. And, Francis added, 'To live in hope is to let these forces of the Spirit go forth and help us grow towards this fullness that awaits us in glory'.

Next, the Pontiff's reflection looked at another aspect, for in the parable it is added that 'the mustard seed is taken and thrown. A man took it and threw it into the garden' and that even the leaven is not left unturned: 'a woman takes and mixes'. That is, 'if the grain is not taken and thrown, if the leaven is not taken by the woman and mixed, they remain there and that inner strength they have remains there'. In the same way, Francis explained, 'if we want to keep the grain for ourselves, it will be one grain. If we do not mix with life, with the flour of life, the yeast, only the yeast will remain'. It is therefore necessary to 'throw, to mix, that courage of hope'. Which "grows, because the Kingdom of God grows from within, not by proselytism". It grows "with the power of the Holy Spirit".In this regard, the Pope recalled that 'the Church has always had both the courage to take and to throw, to take and to mix', and also 'the fear of doing so'. And he noted: "Many times we see that we prefer a pastoral of conservation" rather than "letting the Kingdom grow". When this happens 'we remain what we are, little ones, there', perhaps 'we stay safe', but 'the Kingdom does not grow'. Whereas "for the Kingdom to grow it takes courage: to cast the grain, to stir the yeast".

Someone might object: 'If I throw the grain, I lose it'. But this, the Pope explained, is the reality of always: 'There is always some loss, in sowing the Kingdom of God. If I mix the yeast I get my hands dirty: thank God! Woe to those who preach the Kingdom of God with the illusion of not getting their hands dirty. These are museum-keepers: they prefer beautiful things" to "the act of throwing so that force may break out, of stirring so that force may grow".

All this is encapsulated in the words of Jesus and Paul proposed by the liturgy: the "tension that goes from the slavery of sin" to the "fullness of glory". And the hope that 'does not disappoint' even if it is 'as small as wheat and as leaven'. Someone, the Pontiff recalled, 'said that it is the most humble virtue, it is the servant. But there is the Spirit, and where there is hope there is the Holy Spirit. And it is the Holy Spirit who brings forth the Kingdom of God'. And he concluded by suggesting to those present to think back to 'the mustard seed and the yeast, the tossing and the stirring' and to ask themselves: 'How is it, my hope? Is it an illusion? A 'maybe'? Or do I believe, that there is the Holy Spirit in there? Do I speak with the Holy Spirit?"

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 31 October 2017]

Theatrical actors and neutrality

(Lk 13:10-17)

Old and new opinions or common ideas stand in the way of life that calls, that reveals something else, that ignites passions, that wants totality, and activates transformation.

As always, Jesus is present in "synagogue" not to make codified prayers: He is among his people to «instruct» (v.10). The Lord is educating his intimates, in a very decisive way.

In the place of worship the Master finds a subordinate humanity, a panorama of minimums still harassed by the ancient religious obsession - then folded in on themselves, weary, unable to lift their heads.

The spirit of weakness that the same environment injected precisely to the sick and troubled, it made the faithful of the assembly [or the habituals in it] totally passive.

A curved existence, dragged at least worse; without horizons.

Christ’s Action extracts from the addicted crowd, frees from conformity and massification. He puts back on its feet the faltering ‘woman’, who takes to praise God seriously, with joy, immediately (vv.12-13).

Figure who although "participated" in the rite, and always among the people gathered together. But before meeting the Lord personally she did not glorify the Father in a real way - nor did she honour his very existence.

No joyful expression for the healing, on the part of leaders - accustomed to inoculating in the souls a soporific climate - indeed, only condemnation. Illustrious and distant authorities.

Individualistic negotiators of the power on duty, incapable of proximity. This was also for various interests of circle, doctrine, supremacy, and institutional prestige.

Then - in the common idea - it seemed that in legalistic or rubricistic terms the sanctification of the day dedicated to the Lord excluded any involvement, and even good works!

In addition to this unhealthy belief, even touching a wounded "flesh" was imagined could make impure!

In short, the spirit of the commandment that imposed the Sabbath rest [historically born for the protection of vast social, cultic, and identity needs] had been completely manipulated and overthrown.

The logic of the young Rabbi is opposed to protocols: only the neglect of the marginalized and enslaved dishonours God.

The only non-negotiable principle is the good of the real woman and man: this is the only key to reading the Gospels.

And the rite must celebrate precisely a fraternal life of welcome and sharing, of happiness, personalization, care, love.

The rest is for Jesus an unbearable comedy, from which his church leaders must stay away: «Theatricals» (v.15) would also define them today - otherwise - our Lord.

We are worth much more than oxen and donkeys (vv.15-16).

The relationship with God is feast, healing, salvation: all concrete - fruit of choice, even social.

Spirituality not empty, and any - where the little ones are forced to delegate their dreams to others.

[Monday 30th wk. in O.T.  October 26, 2026]

Theatre actors and neutrality

(Luke 13:10-17)

Our passion for a full existence would like to guide us who knows where, but sometimes there is an external force that holds us back. A dark power that even prevents us from discovering our true nature.

The opinions of others, doctrines, customs, and common ideas, both old and new, stand in the way of the life that calls us, that makes us discover other things, that ignites passions, that wants totality, and activates transformation.

Meanwhile, the perception that we may be failing to follow the 'right' path creates external conflicts; it intimidates, causes suffering, induces guilt, and sometimes blocks the most sensitive souls.

Those who accuse us then leverage the fear of having to pay the price of freedom (of character and vocation) for any 'mistakes' we may encounter by straying from the prescribed path.

The same dynamics apply, on the one hand, to deference to customs and, on the other, to adherence to fashions, even the most sophisticated and 'up-to-date' ones.

Especially in cultures or religions without the leap of faith, all this takes root and causes discomfort; it makes us believe that we are much less than we should be.

Conversely, even if it seems that we are walking on reckless paths (but ones that belong to us), the risks could bring us joy, greater fulfilment and realisation.

As always, Jesus is present in the 'synagogue' not to recite codified prayers: he is among his people to 'teach' (v. 10).

In particular, he teaches that the Father is not in conflict with his subjects. On the contrary, he supports all his children and gives them a different posture from that of the 'animal' world - to which normal beliefs might perhaps reduce us.

At that time, no woman could participate directly in a liturgy, but in the Gospels, female figures are a parable of the people themselves [in Hebrew, the term Israel is feminine].

Luke brings a 'woman' onto the scene to allude to all oppressed figures, to whom the praying community sometimes offers no comfort or concrete action for emancipation.

People subjected to the 'cultural' paradigm of their particular environment and to the conditioning power of family tradition.

At that time, this cloak forcibly transmitted a paradigmatic spirituality that was reassuring but absolutely conformist.

The common people were completely subject to the head of the family; in addition, they were subject to political power and even enslaved to the fundamentalism of the religious authorities.

It was a humiliating, even atrocious, 'bestial' panorama.

The Lord is educating his intimates in a very decisive manner.

In the place of worship, the Master finds a subordinate humanity, a panorama of the lowly still oppressed by ancient religious obsession - therefore withdrawn, weakened, unable to lift their heads.

The spirit of weakness that this same environment instilled in the infirm made the faithful of the assembly (or those who frequented it) totally passive.

A hunched existence, dragged along as best they could, without horizons.

Christ's action draws out of the addicted crowd, frees them from conformism and massification, and puts the faltering 'woman' back on her feet, who immediately begins to praise God in earnest, with joy (vv. 12-13).

She was a figure who 'participated' in the ritual, and was always among the gathered people, but before meeting the Lord personally, she did not truly glorify the Father - nor did she honour her own existence.

There was no joyful expression of healing on the part of the religious leaders - accustomed to instilling a soporific atmosphere in souls - on the contrary, only condemnation. Distinguished and distant.

Individualistic negotiators of the power of the moment, incapable of closeness. This was also due to various interests of circles, doctrine, supremacy, and institutional prestige.

Then - in the common idea - it seemed that in legalistic or rubric terms, the sanctification of the day dedicated to the Lord excluded any involvement, and good works!

In addition to this unhealthy belief, even touching wounded 'flesh' was thought to make one impure!

In short, the spirit of the commandment that imposed rest on the Sabbath [historically created to protect vast social, cultural and identity needs] had been completely manipulated and overturned.

The young Rabbi's logic is opposed to the protocols: only the neglect of the marginalised and enslaved dishonours God.

The only non-negotiable principle is the good of real women and men: this is the only key to understanding the Gospels.

And the ritual must celebrate a fraternal life of welcome and sharing, of happiness, personalisation, care and love.

The rest is, for Jesus, an unbearable comedy, from which his church leaders must keep their distance: 'Theatre actors' (v. 15) is how our Lord would describe them even today, if not otherwise.

We are worth much more than oxen and donkeys (vv. 15-16).

Our relationship with God is a celebration, healing, salvation: all concrete - the result of choice, even social choice.

And finally, the new Magisterium also breaks away from the previous mentality, which was often diplomatic and neutral:

'Jesus' conclusion is a request: Go and do likewise (Lk 10:37). In other words, he challenges us to put aside all differences and, in the face of suffering, to draw close to everyone. Therefore, I no longer say that I have 'neighbours' to help, but that I feel called to become a neighbour to others" [Fratelli Tutti, n.81].

“Now this woman, being a daughter of Abraham […] should she not be freed from this bond on the Sabbath?” (Lk 13:16).

Spirituality that is not empty, and any kind of spirituality where the little ones are forced to delegate their dreams to others.

39. To suffer with the other and for others; to suffer for the sake of truth and justice; to suffer out of love and in order to become a person who truly loves—these are fundamental elements of humanity, and to abandon them would destroy man himself. Yet once again the question arises: are we capable of this? Is the other important enough to warrant my becoming, on his account, a person who suffers? Does truth matter to me enough to make suffering worthwhile? Is the promise of love so great that it justifies the gift of myself? In the history of humanity, it was the Christian faith that had the particular merit of bringing forth within man a new and deeper capacity for these kinds of suffering that are decisive for his humanity. The Christian faith has shown us that truth, justice and love are not simply ideals, but enormously weighty realities. It has shown us that God —Truth and Love in person—desired to suffer for us and with us. Bernard of Clairvaux coined the marvellous expression: Impassibilis est Deus, sed non incompassibilis[29]—God cannot suffer, but he can suffer with. Man is worth so much to God that he himself became man in order to suffer with man in an utterly real way—in flesh and blood—as is revealed to us in the account of Jesus's Passion. Hence in all human suffering we are joined by one who experiences and carries that suffering with us; hence con-solatio is present in all suffering, the consolation of God's compassionate love—and so the star of hope rises. Certainly, in our many different sufferings and trials we always need the lesser and greater hopes too—a kind visit, the healing of internal and external wounds, a favourable resolution of a crisis, and so on. In our lesser trials these kinds of hope may even be sufficient. But in truly great trials, where I must make a definitive decision to place the truth before my own welfare, career and possessions, I need the certitude of that true, great hope of which we have spoken here. For this too we need witnesses—martyrs—who have given themselves totally, so as to show us the way—day after day. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day—knowing that this is how we live life to the full. Let us say it once again: the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity. Yet this capacity to suffer depends on the type and extent of the hope that we bear within us and build upon. The saints were able to make the great journey of human existence in the way that Christ had done before them, because they were brimming with great hope. 

40. I would like to add here another brief comment with some relevance for everyday living. There used to be a form of devotion—perhaps less practised today but quite widespread not long ago—that included the idea of “offering up” the minor daily hardships that continually strike at us like irritating “jabs”, thereby giving them a meaning. Of course, there were some exaggerations and perhaps unhealthy applications of this devotion, but we need to ask ourselves whether there may not after all have been something essential and helpful contained within it. What does it mean to offer something up? Those who did so were convinced that they could insert these little annoyances into Christ's great “com-passion” so that they somehow became part of the treasury of compassion so greatly needed by the human race. In this way, even the small inconveniences of daily life could acquire meaning and contribute to the economy of good and of human love. Maybe we should consider whether it might be judicious to revive this practice ourselves.

[Pope Benedict, Spe Salvi]