There are Christians who have "a certain allergy to preachers of the word": they accept "the truth of revelation" but not "the preacher", preferring "a caged life". This happened in Jesus' time and unfortunately continues to happen today in those who live closed in on themselves, because they are afraid of the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit.

For Pope Francis, this is the teaching that comes from the readings of the liturgy celebrated on Friday morning, 13 December, in the chapel of Santa Marta. The Pontiff dwelt above all on the passage from the Gospel of Matthew (11, 16-19) in which Jesus compares the generation of his contemporaries "to those children sitting in the squares who turn to their companions and say: we played the flute and you did not dance, we sang a lament and you did not weep".

In this regard, the Bishop of Rome recalled that Christ in the Gospels "always speaks well of children", offering them as a "model of Christian life" and inviting them to "be like them to enter the kingdom of heaven". Instead, he noted, in the passage in question "it is the only time he does not speak so well of them". For the Pope, it is an image of children who are "a bit special: rude, discontented, even scornful"; children who do not know how to be happy while playing and who "always refuse the invitation of others: nothing goes well for them". In particular, Jesus uses this image to describe "the leaders of his people", defined by the Pontiff as "people who were not open to the word of God".

For the Holy Father there is an interesting aspect in this attitude: their rejection, precisely, "is not for the message, it is for the messenger". It is enough to read the Gospel passage to confirm this. "John came, who neither eats nor drinks," the Pope noted, "and they said: he has a devil. The Son of Man came, who eats and drinks, and they said: here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners'. In practice, people have always found reasons to delegitimise the preacher. Just think of the people of that time, who preferred 'to take refuge in a somewhat elaborate religion: in moral precepts, like the Pharisees; in political compromise, like the Sadducees; in social revolution, like the Zealots; in Gnostic spirituality, like the Essenes'. All of them, he added, "with their own neat, well-made system", but which does not accept "the preacher". That is why Jesus refreshes their memory by reminding them of the prophets, who were persecuted and killed.

Accepting "the truth of revelation" and not "the preacher" reveals for the Pontiff a mentality that is the result of "a life caged in precepts, in compromises, in revolutionary plans, in spirituality without flesh". Pope Francis referred in particular to those Christians "who allow themselves not to dance when the preacher gives you good news of joy, and allow themselves not to cry when the preacher gives you sad news". To those Christians, that is, 'who are closed, caged, who are not free'. And the reason is the "fear of the Holy Spirit's freedom, which comes through preaching".

Moreover, "this is the scandal of preaching of which St Paul spoke; the scandal of preaching that ends in the scandal of the cross". In fact, 'it scandalises us that God speaks to us through men with limitations, sinful men; and it scandalises us even more that God speaks to us and saves us through a man who says he is the son of God, but ends up as a criminal'. So for Pope Francis we end up covering up 'the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit', because ultimately 'these sad Christians do not believe in the Holy Spirit; they do not believe in that freedom that comes from preaching, which admonishes you, teaches you, even slaps you, but it is precisely freedom that makes the Church grow'.

So the image of the Gospel, with "children who are afraid to dance, to cry", who are "afraid of everything, who ask for security in everything", makes one think of "these sad Christians, who always criticise the preachers of truth, because they are afraid to open the door to the Holy Spirit". Hence the Pontiff's exhortation to pray for them and also to pray for ourselves, so that "we do not become sad Christians", those who take away "the Holy Spirit's freedom to come to us through the scandal of preaching."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 14/12/2013]

The Great Baptizer, smaller than the Least

(Mt 11:11-15)

Throughout the history of Redemption, the Baptist has been a crossroads of radical, unexpected, diriment proposals.

But he did not reveal - like the Son - the depth of the Father's heart.

He believed that the work of the new prophets should do immediate, summary justice.

He dreamed of being able to recover the pristine nature and strength of antiquity, mending the ingredients of the religion of the fathers.

Everything, purifying and updating the great Temple - not supplanting it in its juridical-theological configuration.

According to Jesus, however, it remained radically deviant, because it was inclined to strength and incapable of appreciating fragility and insecurity.

The God of archaic beliefs disdained contradictions. He came to judge and chastise according to a cold code, as ideal as it was distant from each [even his own believers].

But a High Ruler who does not care about weak people or things he does not like, does not seem lovable.

The constant mortification of eccentricities that would make one great, demotivates.

Locked in armour that does not belong to us, we become sullen, enemies of life, instead of exceptional, unique, flourishing.

This is why Jesus announces the novelty of a Kingdom to be 'welcomed'.

Not to be set up in a sweat and prepared with effort, according to cultural, legalistic, external dictates, but precisely to be accommodated and included; because it disorients, oversteps the mark, astounds.

In this sense, John is inferior to any of the last of the last and burdenless (v.11) who comes to the threshold of communities to enjoy fraternal life.

Even the Baptizer's idea of the Messiah was not that of the Christ willing to embrace, reclaim, value and favour even the voiceless, or those distant considered unclean.

Our Master and Brother is a proponent of works of life [uniquely] with fullness of Happiness (vv.2-6), not of mortification or accusation.

For Jesus, the mikròi (v.11) - that is, the least, strangers and pitocchios - carry in their hearts and in the Kingdom the seed of the newness of the heavens ripped open forever.

Despite having little energy, they carry the dove of peace [Mt 3:16; Mk 1:10; Lk 3:22].

Icon of an energy that is no longer aggressive, although they suffer it (v.12) [cf. Lk 16:16].

And as Paul VI emphasised, at the price of a sons’ style, open to self-rethinking, crucifying - in the intimate virtue of reversal [Evangelii Nuntiandi 10].

The man of Faith will never be a belligerent prevaricator.

For this reason, to the distinct personality of the great and famous Saint of the desert and the Jordan, the Son of God can place before any inexperienced, new, limping, sinner, set free because regenerated.

This is the new era, where no longer is anyone pointed at and under siege.

The creative states of any ‘infant’ - out of the loop, but sensitive - are welcomed and awakened, rather than pulled to one side and silenced.

The real engine of the story is in a dedicated but open and quiet spontaneous, natural, innate power.

Whether in setbacks (even epochal ones) or in the pursuit of integral human development, or in the relentless search for peace, such a baptismal attitude knows how to start again from scratch.

It dissolves the real knots, it does not deprive existence of space, it does not impoverish situations.

[Thursday 2nd wk. in Advent, December 12, 2024]

And why Elijah

(Mt 11:11-15)

S. Augustine stated: 'In Vetere Testamento Nuvum latet, in Novo Testamento Vetus patet'. But on a different level.

It is true that the message of the second covenant arises from the humus of the first, just as the new reveals the meaning and is the culmination of the old.

It is also true that throughout the history of the Redemption, the Baptist was a crossroads of radical, unexpected, diriment proposals.

He refused to be part of the priestly class, which was corrupt and refractory to the newness of the Spirit.

He preached social justice and the forgiveness of sins outside the Temple - through a change of mentality that would unfold in real life.

Already according to John, the factor of salvation could not be a formal ritual, but concrete conversion and relationship: e.g. no longer thinking only of oneself.

But he did not reveal - like the Son - the depth of the Father's heart.

He believed that the work of the new prophets should do immediate (summary...) justice.

He dreamed of being able to recover the pristineness and strength of antiquity, patching up the ingredients of the religion of the fathers; in short, of returning to the origins.

Everything, purifying and updating the great Temple - not supplanting it in its juridical-theological configuration.

According to Jesus, however, it remained radically deviant, because it was prone to force and incapable of valorising frailties and insecurities.

The God of archaic beliefs disdained contradictions. He came to judge and chastise according to a cold code, as ideal as it was distant from each [even his own believers].

But a sovereign Most High who does not care for weak people or for things he does not like does not seem amiable: it triggers and accentuates the sectarian mechanisms of competitive, anxiogenic, demeaning devotion.

And the problem "Where do I find trust?" is not answered; it does not move an inch.

Well, we cannot draw energy from a strict, purist, forced and sterilising approach; contrary to the flowering of our precious uniqueness.

The constant mortification of eccentricities that would make us fantastic, demotivates.

Locked in armour that does not belong to us, we become sullen, enemies of life, instead of exceptional, unique, flourishing.

This is why Jesus announces the novelty of a Kingdom to be 'welcomed'.

Not to be set up with sweat and prepared with effort, according to cultural, legalistic, external dictates, but precisely to be welcomed and included; because it disorients, transcends, astounds.

New eyes to discover the meaning of a whole journey are only transmitted by the one who is Friend.

And Christ does this not when we position ourselves well or equip ourselves strongly - remaining in a dirigiste attitude - but in total listening (v.15).

In this sense John is inferior to any last of the last and weightless (v.11) who comes to the threshold of communities.

He wants to enjoy fraternal life, and learn how to internalise the transition from religious sense to Faith, to self-flourishing, to Love.

Even the Baptizer's idea of the Messiah was not that of the Christ willing to embrace, reclaim, value and favour even the voiceless, or those far away considered unclean.

On the contrary, our Master and Brother is a proponent of works of life alone with fullness of Happiness (vv.2-6). Not of rude and crude mortification - his own and of his enemies - or accusations.

For Jesus, the mikròi (v.11) - that is, the least, strangers and pitocchios - carry in their hearts and in the Kingdom the seed of the newness of the heavens ripped open forever.

Despite having little energy, they carry the dove of peace [Mt 3:16; Mk 1:10; Lk 3:22].

Icon of an energy that is no longer aggressive, although they suffer it (v.12) [cf. Lk 16:16].

And as Paul VI emphasised, at the price of a sonly style, open to self-rethinking, crucifying - in the intimate virtue of reversal:

"This Kingdom and this salvation, the key-words of the evangelisation of Jesus Christ, every man can receive them as grace and mercy, and nevertheless each one must, at the same time, conquer them by force - they belong to the violent, says the Lord - with toil and suffering, with a life according to the Gospel, with renunciation and the cross, with the spirit of the beatitudes. But, first of all, each one conquers them through a total interior upheaval that the Gospel designates by the name of 'metánoia', a radical conversion, a profound change of mind and heart".

[Evangelii Nuntiandi, no.10].

The man of Faith has temperament, passion and resolve - incisive above all with regard to the building of his destiny (by Grace).

Yet he will never be a standoffish shouter, nor a belligerent prevaricator. 

This is why, to the distinguished personality of the great and famous Saint of the desert and the Jordan - an incensed conqueror of crowds - the Son of God can place not one of his veterans, but any inexperienced, new, stammering, sinner, set free because regenerated.

This is the new age, where no longer is anyone pointed out and under siege. The different Kingdom is that of non-institutional (sometimes yawn-inducing) expectations.

The creative states of any infant - out of the loop, but sensitive - are welcomed and awakened, rather than pulled to one side and silenced.

The authentic engine of history is in a dedicated but open and quiet spontaneous, natural, innate power.

Whether in reversals (even epochal ones) or in the quest for integral human development, or in the relentless pursuit of peace, such a baptismal attitude knows how to start again from scratch.

"If it is a question of starting again, it will always be from the least" [cf. encyclical Fratelli Tutti n.235] not from the already accomplished.

Resigned energy is in fact the typical resource of even the least capable and most irrelevant of authentic disciples.

It is a unique virtue, and an incomparable spirit that does not deprive existence of space.

On the contrary, it loosens real knots and does not impoverish things.

To internalise and live the message:

What, to you, means everything?

And added value?

What if the smallest in the kingdom is Jesus himself?

That you are miserable and unable to triumph, do you consider it nothing? or does it block you?

Does the community accommodate your desires or pull them to one side?

Because Elijah

At the time, in the Palestinian area, economic hardship and Roman rule forced people to retreat to an individual model of life.

The problems of subsistence and social order had resulted in a crumbling of relationship life (and bonds) both in clans and in families themselves.

Clan nuclei, which had always provided assistance, support and concrete defence for the weakest and most distressed members.

Everyone expected that the coming of Elijah and the Messiah would have a positive outcome in the reconstruction of fraternal life, which had been eroded at the time.

As it was said: "to turn the hearts of the fathers back to the sons and the hearts of the sons back to the fathers" [Mal 3:22-24 announced precisely the sending of Elijah] in order to rebuild the disintegrated coexistence.

Obviously the recovery of the people's internal sense of identity was frowned upon by the ruling system. Let alone the Jesuit figure of the Calling by Name, which would have opened the people's pious life wide to a thousand possibilities.

John had forcefully preached a rethinking of the idea of conquered freedom (the crossing of the Jordan), the rearrangement of established religious ideas (conversion and forgiveness of sins in real life, outside the Temple) and social justice.

Having an evolved project of reform in solidarity (Lk 3:7-14), in practice it was the Baptizer himself who had already fulfilled the mission of the awaited Elijah [Mt 17:10-12; Mk 9:11-13].

For this reason he had been taken out of the way: he could reassemble a whole people of outcasts - outcasts both from the circle of power and of the verticist, accommodating, servile, and collaborationist religiosity.

A watertight compartmentalised devotion, which allowed absolutely no 'remembrance' of themselves, nor of the old communitarian social order, prone to sharing.

In short, the system of things, interests, hierarchies, forced to take root in that unsatisfactory configuration. But here is Jesus, who does not bend.

Whoever has the courage to embark on a journey of biblical spirituality and Exodus learns that everyone has a different way of going out and being in the world.

So, is there a wise balance between respect for self, context, and others?

Jesus is presented by Mt to his communities as the One who wanted to continue the work of Kingdom building.

With one fundamental difference: with respect to the bearing of ethno-religious conceptions, the Master does not propose to all a kind of ideology of body, which ends up depersonalising the eccentric gifts of the weak - those unpredictable to an established mentality, but which trace a future.

In the climate of the clan that has been strengthened, it is not infrequently those without weight and those who know only abysses (and not summits) who come as if driven to the assent of a reassuring conformation of ideas - instead of a dynamic one - and a forge of wider acceptance.

Those who know no summits but only poverty, precisely in moments of crisis are the first invited by adverse circumstances to obscure their view of the future.

The miserable remain the ones who are unable to look in another direction and move, charting a different destiny - precisely because of tares external to them: cultural, of tradition, of income, or 'spiritual'.

All recognisable boxes, perhaps not alarming at times, but far removed from our nature. 

And right away: with the condemnation within reach of common judgement [for lack of homologation].

Sentence that wants to clip the wings, annihilate the hidden and secret atmosphere that truly belongs to personal uniqueness, and lead us all - even exasperatedly.

The Lord proposes an assembly life of character, but not stubborn or targetted - not careless ... as in the extent to which it is forced to go in the same old course as always. Or in the same direction as the chieftains.

Christ wants a more luxuriant collaboration that makes good use of resources (internal and otherwise) and differences.

Arrangement for the unprecedented: so that, for example, falls or inexorable tensions are not camouflaged - on the contrary, they become opportunities, unknown and unthinkable but very fruitful for life.

Here even crises become important, indeed fundamental, in order to evolve the quality of being together - in the richness of the "polyhedron" that as Pope Francis writes "reflects the confluence of all the partialities that in it maintain their originality" [Evangelii Gaudium no. 236].

Without regenerating oneself, only by repeating and tracing collective modalities - from the sphere model (ibid.) - or from others, that is, from nomenclature, not personally re-elaborated or valorised, one does not grow; one does not move towards one's own unrepeatable mission.

One does not fill the lacerating sense of emptiness.

By attempting to manipulate characters and personalities to guide them to 'how they should be', one does not feel good about oneself or even side by side. The perception of esteem and adequacy is not conveyed to the many different ones, nor is the sense of benevolence - let alone joie de vivre.

Curved or trial-and-error trajectories suit the Father's perspective, and our unrepeatable growth.

Difference between religiosity and Faith.

By His Name

(Kingdom of God, Messianic Kingdom, Divine People summoned in the Church)

1. We read in the Constitution Lumen Gentium of the Second Vatican Council that "believers in Christ (God) has willed to call them into the Holy Church, which . . . prepared in the history of the people of Israel and in the Old Covenant . . . was manifested by the outpouring of the (Holy) Spirit' (Lumen Gentium, 2). We devoted the previous catechesis to this preparation of the Church in the Old Covenant, in which we saw that, in Israel's progressive awareness of God's plan through the revelations of the prophets and the facts of its own history, the concept of a future kingdom of God, far higher and more universal than any prediction of the fate of the Davidic dynasty, was becoming increasingly clear. Today we turn to the consideration of another historical fact, dense with theological significance: Jesus Christ begins his messianic mission with the proclamation: "The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand" (Mk 1:15). Those words mark the entrance "into the fullness of time", as St Paul would say (cf. Gal 4:4), and prepare the passage to the New Covenant, founded on the mystery of the redemptive incarnation of the Son and destined to be an eternal Covenant. In the life and mission of Jesus Christ, the kingdom of God is not only "near" (Lk 10:9), but is already present in the world, already acting in human history. Jesus himself says it: "The kingdom of God is in your midst" (Lk 17:21).

2. The difference in level and quality between the time of preparation and the time of fulfilment - between the Old Covenant and the New Covenant - is made known by Jesus himself when, speaking of his forerunner John the Baptist, he says: "Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has not arisen one greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he" (Matthew 11: 11). John, from the banks of the Jordan (and from his prison), certainly contributed more than anyone else, even more than the ancient prophets (cf. Lk 7:26-27), to the immediate preparation of the ways of the Messiah. However, he remains in a sense still on the threshold of the new kingdom, which entered the world with the coming of Christ and is in the process of manifestation with his messianic ministry. Only through Christ do men become the true "children of the kingdom": that is, of the new kingdom far superior to that of which the contemporary Jews considered themselves the natural heirs (cf. Mt 8:12).

3. The new kingdom has an eminently spiritual character (...)

4. This transcendence of the kingdom of God is given by the fact that it originates not from a human initiative alone, but from the plan, design and will of God himself. Jesus Christ, who makes it present and implements it in the world, is not just one of the prophets sent by God, but the Son consubstantial with the Father, who became man through the Incarnation. The kingdom of God is thus the kingdom of the Father and his Son. The kingdom of God is the kingdom of Christ; it is the kingdom of heaven that has opened on earth to allow men to enter this new world of spirituality and eternity (...)

Together with the Father and the Son, the Holy Spirit also works for the realisation of the Kingdom already in this world. Jesus himself reveals it: the Son of Man "casts out demons by the Spirit of God", and for this reason "the kingdom of God has surely come among you" (Mt 12:28) (...)

7. The messianic kingdom, brought about by Christ in the world, is revealed and its meaning definitively clarified in the context of the passion and death on the cross. Already at the entry into Jerusalem an event takes place, arranged by Christ, which Matthew presents as the fulfilment of a prophetic prediction, that of Zechariah about the "king riding on a donkey, a colt son of a donkey" (Zech 9:9; Mt 21:5). In the prophet's mind, Jesus' intent and the evangelist's interpretation, the donkey meant meekness and humility. Jesus was the meek and humble king entering the Davidic city, where by his sacrifice he would fulfil the prophecies about true messianic kingship.

This kingship becomes very clear during the interrogation Jesus underwent at Pilate's tribunal (...) the one before the Roman governor

8. It is a declaration that concludes the whole ancient prophecy that runs through the history of Israel and becomes fact and revelation in Christ. Jesus' words make us grasp the gleams of light that pierce the darkness of the mystery condensed in the trinomial: Kingdom of God, Messianic Kingdom, People of God summoned in the Church. In this wake of prophetic and messianic light, we can better understand and repeat, with a clearer understanding of the words, the prayer taught to us by Jesus (Mt 6:10): "Thy Kingdom come". It is the kingdom of the Father, which entered the world with Christ; it is the messianic kingdom that through the work of the Holy Spirit develops in man and in the world to ascend into the bosom of the Father, in the glory of heaven.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 4 September 1991].

We see this great figure, this strength in passion, in resistance against the powerful. We ask: where does this life come from, this interiority so strong, so upright, so consistent, spent so totally for God and preparing the way for Jesus? The answer is simple: from his relationship with God, from prayer, which is the common thread of his entire existence [...].

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus is nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80); the desert regions that are the place of temptation, but also the place where man feels his own poverty because he lacks material support and security, and understands that the only solid point of reference remains God himself. But John the Baptist is not only a man of prayer, of permanent contact with God, but also a guide to this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, reporting the prayer that Jesus teaches the disciples, the "Our Father", notes that the request is formulated by the disciples in these words: "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples" (cf. Lk 11:1) [...].

The Christian life demands, so to speak, the "martyrdom" of daily fidelity to the Gospel, that is, the courage to let Christ grow in us and let Christ direct our thinking and our actions. But this can only happen in our lives if our relationship with God is solid. Prayer is not wasted time, it is not stealing space from activities, even apostolic ones, but it is exactly the opposite: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant, trusting prayer life, will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to overcome difficulties and to witness courageously. May St John the Baptist intercede for us, so that we always know how to preserve the primacy of God in our lives. Thank you.

(Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012)

1. We read in the Constitution Lumen Gentium of the Second Vatican Council that "believers in Christ (God) has willed to call them into the Holy Church, which . . . prepared in the history of the people of Israel and in the Old Covenant . . . was manifested by the outpouring of the (Holy) Spirit' (Lumen Gentium, 2). We devoted the previous catechesis to this preparation of the Church in the Old Covenant, in which we saw that, in Israel's progressive awareness of God's plan through the revelations of the prophets and the facts of its own history, the concept of a future kingdom of God, far higher and more universal than any prediction of the fate of the Davidic dynasty, was becoming increasingly clear. Today we turn to the consideration of another historical fact, dense with theological significance: Jesus Christ begins his messianic mission with the proclamation: "The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand" (Mk 1:15). Those words mark the entrance "into the fullness of time", as St Paul would say (cf. Gal 4:4), and prepare the passage to the New Covenant, founded on the mystery of the redemptive incarnation of the Son and destined to be an eternal Covenant. In the life and mission of Jesus Christ, the kingdom of God is not only "near" (Lk 10:9), but is already present in the world, already acting in human history. Jesus himself says it: "The kingdom of God is in your midst" (Lk 17:21).

2. The difference in level and quality between the time of preparation and the time of fulfilment - between the Old Covenant and the New Covenant - is made known by Jesus himself when, speaking of his forerunner John the Baptist, he says: "Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has not arisen one greater than John the Baptist; nevertheless the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he" (Matthew 11: 11). John, from the banks of the Jordan (and from his prison), certainly contributed more than anyone else, even more than the ancient prophets (cf. Lk 7:26-27), to the immediate preparation of the ways of the Messiah. However, he remains in a sense still on the threshold of the new kingdom, which entered the world with the coming of Christ and is in the process of manifestation with his messianic ministry. Only through Christ do men become the true "children of the kingdom": that is, of the new kingdom far superior to that of which the contemporary Jews considered themselves the natural heirs (cf. Mt 8:12).

3. The new kingdom has an eminently spiritual character. To enter it, one must be converted and believe the Gospel, freeing oneself from the powers of the spirit of darkness, submitting to the power of the Spirit of God that Christ brings to men. As Jesus says: "If I cast out demons by the power of the Holy Spirit, surely the kingdom of God has come among you" (Matt 12:28; cf. Lk 11:20).

The spiritual and transcendent nature of this kingdom is also expressed in the linguistic equivalent we find in the Gospel texts: "Kingdom of Heaven". A wonderful image that gives a glimpse of the origin and end of the kingdom - the "heavens" - and the very divine-human dignity of the One in whom the Kingdom of God is historically realised with the Incarnation: Christ.

4. This transcendence of the Kingdom of God is given by the fact that it originates not from a merely human initiative, but from the plan, design and will of God Himself. Jesus Christ, who makes it present and implements it in the world, is not just one of the prophets sent by God, but the Son consubstantial with the Father, who became man through the Incarnation. The kingdom of God is thus the kingdom of the Father and his Son. The kingdom of God is the kingdom of Christ; it is the kingdom of heaven that has opened on earth to allow men to enter this new world of spirituality and eternity. Jesus affirms: "Everything has been given to me by my Father . . . and no one knows the Father except the Son and he to whom the Son wishes to reveal him" (Mt 11:27). "For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son to have life in himself; and he has given him power to judge, because he is the Son of man" (Jn 5:26-27).

Together with the Father and the Son, the Holy Spirit also works for the realisation of the Kingdom already in this world. Jesus himself reveals this: the Son of man "casts out devils by the Spirit of God", and because of this "the kingdom of God has surely come among you" (Mt 12:28).

5. But while the Kingdom of God takes place and develops in this world, it has its purpose in "heaven". Transcendent in its origin, it is also so in its end, which is attained in eternity, provided we are faithful to Christ in our present life and throughout the unfolding of time. Jesus warns us of this when he says that, in accordance with his power to "judge" (Jn 5:27), the Son of Man will command at the end of the world to take "out of his kingdom all scandals", that is, all iniquities committed even within the realm of Christ's kingdom. And "then," Jesus adds, "the righteous will shine like the sun in their Father's kingdom" (Matt 13:41, 43). It will then be the full and final realisation of the "kingdom of the Father", to which the Son will send the elect saved by him in virtue of the Redemption and through the work of the Holy Spirit. The messianic kingdom will then reveal its identity with the Kingdom of God (cf. Mt 25:34; 1 Cor 15:24).

There is therefore a historical cycle of the reign of Christ, the Incarnate Word, but the alpha and omega of this reign, and indeed one would say the background in which it opens, lives, develops and reaches its full fulfilment, is the "mysterium Trinitatis". We have already said, and will see again in due course, that the "mysterium Ecclesiae" is rooted in this mystery.

6. The point of passage and connection from one mystery to the other is Christ, who already in the Old Covenant was foretold and awaited as a Messiah-King with whom the Kingdom of God was identified. In the New Covenant, Christ identifies the kingdom of God with his own person and mission. In fact, he not only proclaims that, with him, the kingdom of God is in the world, but teaches to "leave all that is most dear to man for the kingdom of God" (cf. Lk 18:29-30) and, at another point, to leave all this "for his name's sake" (cf. Mt 19:29), or "for my sake and for the sake of the gospel" (Mk 10:29).

The kingdom of God is thus identified with the kingdom of Christ. It is present in him, and in him it is realised. And from him it passes, by his own initiative, to the Apostles, and through them to all who will believe in him: "I prepare a kingdom for you, as the Father has prepared it for me" (Lk 22:29). It is a kingdom that consists in an expansion of Christ himself in the world, in human history, as new life that is drawn from him and communicated to believers by virtue of the Holy Spirit-Paraclete, sent by him (cf. Jn 1:16; 7:38-39 15:26; 16:7).

7. The messianic kingdom, implemented by Christ in the world, is revealed and its meaning definitively clarified in the context of the passion and death on the cross. Already at the entry into Jerusalem an event takes place, arranged by Christ, which Matthew presents as the fulfilment of a prophetic prediction, that of Zechariah about the "king riding on a donkey, a colt son of a donkey" (Zech 9:9; Matt 21:5). In the prophet's mind, Jesus' intent, and the evangelist's interpretation, the donkey meant meekness and humility. Jesus was the meek and humble king entering the Davidic city, where with his sacrifice he would fulfil the prophecies about true messianic kingship.

This kingship becomes very clear during the interrogation Jesus underwent at Pilate's tribunal. The accusations made against Jesus are "that he stirred up the . . . people, prevented them from giving tribute to Caesar, and claimed to be Christ the King" (Lk 23:2). Therefore Pilate asks the accused if he is king. And here is Christ's answer: "My kingdom is not of this world; if my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have fought lest I should be delivered up to the Jews; but my kingdom is not of here". The evangelist narrates that "then Pilate said to him: - So you are king? - Jesus answered: - You say it: I am king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world: to bear witness to the truth. Whoever is of the truth hears my voice" (Jn 18:36-37).

8. It is a declaration that concludes the whole ancient prophecy that runs through the history of Israel and becomes fact and revelation in Christ. Jesus' words make us grasp the gleams of light that pierce the darkness of the mystery condensed in the trinomial: Kingdom of God, Messianic Kingdom, People of God summoned in the Church. In this wake of prophetic and messianic light, we can better understand and repeat, with a clearer understanding of the words, the prayer taught to us by Jesus (Mt 6:10): "Thy Kingdom come". It is the kingdom of the Father, which entered the world with Christ; it is the messianic kingdom that through the work of the Holy Spirit develops in man and in the world to ascend into the bosom of the Father, in the glory of heaven.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 4 September 1991]

The "apostolic courage to always tell the truth", the "pastoral love" in welcoming people "with the little they can give", the ability to "doubt" and question one's own vocation: in these days of Advent in which the liturgy places John the Baptist at the centre, these are the characteristics - which were the precursor's - useful for each person to set out "in the Lord's footsteps".

In the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Thursday 15 December, Pope Francis paused to meditate on the figure of Jesus' cousin, "the great John", who is great because "he is the smallest in the kingdom of heaven". And a special thought the Pontiff addressed precisely to the little ones at the conclusion of his homily, when, referring to the weeping of a child present in the chapel with his parents, he recalled that "when a child cries at Mass, we must not chase him away", because "it is the best sermon", it is "the tenderness of God who visits us". And at the end of the Mass, in this regard, he added that it was precisely a cry that was the first sermon of the child Jesus.

A concern for the little ones, the humble and the simple people, which Pope Francis also emphasised when profiling the Baptist and, in particular, his attention, 'as a shepherd', to the people in front of him.

To John, "that man who was in the desert", everyone went "attracted by his testimony". But with differences, the Pope stressed: "The Pharisees and the doctors of the law also went to see him, but with detachment". The Gospel emphasises how these too were present but, "not being baptised by him - that is, not listening with the heart, only with the ears, to judge him - they made God's plan for them vain". A detachment similar to that which the doctors of the law had also had from the prophets: "They did not listen to the prophets, they did not follow".

Referring back to the Gospel of Luke (7:24-30), the Pontiff recalled how Jesus, alluding to John, said to the people: "But what did you go to see in the desert? A spectacle? A reed shaken by the wind? A man dressed in fancy clothes? Behold, those who wear sumptuous robes and live in luxury are in the palaces of the king'; and 'some' - Francis commented - even 'in the episcopes'. That crowd, on the other hand, was looking for a prophet. In fact, the Pope explained, 'the last of the prophets, the last of that host of people who began to walk, from our father Abraham until that moment'. And, in this regard, he also suggested reading chapter 11 of the letter to the Hebrews.

He is therefore a prophet, in fact 'the last', because after him comes the messiah. And of him Jesus says: "You have gone to see a prophet, but more than a prophet", a great one: "I tell you indeed, more than a prophet. I tell you among those born of women there is none greater than John'". And it was precisely 'this great one' that attracted the people.

An aspect that the Pontiff wanted to explore further, asking himself: "Where was John's greatness in preaching and attracting people?" First of all, he replied, this is found "in his faithfulness to his mission": John "was a man faithful to what the Lord had asked of him". Therefore 'great because faithful'. And this greatness, he added, was seen precisely in his preaching. In fact, John had the courage to say 'bad things to the Pharisees, the doctors of the law, the priests. He did not say to them, 'But dear ones, behave yourselves'. No. He would simply tell them, 'You race of vipers'". With those who "approached to check and to see, but never with an open heart", he did not use "nuances", and went direct: "You race of vipers!". In doing so, "he risked his life, yes, but he was faithful". He did the same with Herod, to whom "to his face" he said: "Adulterer, you are not allowed to live like this, adulterer!".

Certainly, commented the Pope, 'if a parish priest today in his Sunday homily said: "Among you there are some who are a race of vipers and there are many adulterers"', his bishop 'would receive letters of dismay: "But send away this parish priest who insults us!"'. John was actually insulting because he was 'faithful to his vocation and to the truth'.

Of an entirely different tenor was his attitude towards the people with whom 'he was so understanding'. And to those who asked him: "But what must we do to be converted?" he simply replied: "Whoever has food let him give to the one who does not have. Whoever has two tunics let him give one to the one he does not have'. That is, Francis pointed out, 'he was just starting out', he was behaving like a true shepherd: 'a great prophet and a shepherd'. So 'to the publicans, who were the public sinners, because they exploited the people', he would simply suggest: 'Do not ask more than is right'. He would begin with "a small step" and baptise them. Likewise to the soldiers he recommended: 'Do not threaten or denounce anyone. Content yourselves with your pay, your salary'. In simple terms, the Pope explained in a brief aside, one must be careful 'not to enter the world of bribes', as happens when a policeman takes a bribe in order not to give a fine.

John therefore 'was concrete, but measured' and, in order to baptise 'all these sinners', he only asked for a 'minimal step forward, because he knew that with this step the Lord would do the rest'. And they 'converted'.

There is more, however. This 'great prophet', the only one who was given the grace to proclaim Jesus, this 'shepherd who understood the situation of the people and helped them to go forward with the Lord', although he was 'great, strong, sure of his vocation, also had dark moments, he doubted, he had his doubts'. We read this in the Gospel where it is explained that John 'in prison began to doubt'. In fact, said the Pontiff, in John's eyes, Jesus "was a saviour not as he had imagined him. And perhaps someone was insinuating in his ears: 'He is not! Look he doesn't do this, this, this...'. And in prison, with the anguish, the great, the sure of his vocation, he doubted'. After all, he added, 'the great can afford to doubt, because they are great'.

A clarifying answer to the Baptist came from Jesus himself with the explicit words "that he would later repeat in the synagogue in Nazareth: 'Go and tell John what you have seen. The blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised. To the poor the good news is proclaimed, and blessed is he who finds no cause for scandal in me'".

What Jesus did with the little ones, the Pope explained, "John also did in his sermon, with the soldiers, with the crowd, with the publicans". Nevertheless, 'in prison he began to doubt'. And this, he emphasised, is a 'beautiful' aspect, namely that 'the great can allow themselves doubt'. They in fact 'are sure of their vocation, but every time the Lord shows them a new path they enter into doubt'. And questions arise: 'But this is not orthodox, this is heretical, this is not the messiah I was expecting...'. The devil does this work and some friends also help, don't they?". Herein lies "the greatness of John, a great one, the last of that host of believers who began with Abraham, the one who preaches conversion, the one who does not use half words to condemn the proud, the one who at the end of life allows himself to doubt". Francis concluded: 'This is a beautiful programme of Christian life'.

Therefore, the Pontiff invited everyone to ask "John for the grace of the apostolic courage to always say things with truth"; that of "pastoral love", that is, "to receive people with the little one can give, the first step"; and "also the grace to doubt". Because it can happen that "at the end of life", one can ask oneself: "But is everything I have believed true, or are they fantasies?": it is "the temptation against faith, against the Lord". So it is important that "the great John, who is the smallest in the kingdom of heaven, for this reason he is great, helps us on this road in the footsteps of the Lord".

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 16/12/2016]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

Here is the commentary on the readings and biblical texts for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception [Sunday 8 December 2024].

*First Reading Genesis 3.9-15.20

The tree of life was planted by God in the centre of Eden and somewhere in the same garden, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, that is, the tree of what makes us happy or unhappy. The delivery was simple: "You may eat of all the trees in the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you must not eat, for on the day that you eat of it you must surely die" Gen 2:16-17). God commands not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but it is not specified where this tree is located because the story has a high allegorical and symbolic meaning and invites us to focus rather on the ethical and theological message than on its geographical location. For many theologians and saints, this tree symbolises moral awareness, maturity and human responsibility.  St. Augustine interprets it as a test of obedience and free will: "The fruit of the tree was good not by its nature, but as a sign of a greater good: man's submission to God" (from De Genesi ad litteram, on Genesis verbatim). The serpent asks the woman if it is true that God has commanded not to eat of any of the trees in the garden and she, being very honest, corrects him by answering that one can eat the fruit of the trees in the garden, except of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden because God has said: "You must not eat of it nor touch it, otherwise you will die" (Gen 3:1-3).  She thinks she is rectifying, but, without knowing it, she has already distorted the truth: the simple fact of having entered into conversation with the serpent has distorted her gaze and one could say that now it is the tree that hides the forest because she sees the forbidden tree in the middle of the garden and not instead the tree of life. Now the trap is set and the serpent continues his work of seduction by saying that they will not die at all, and God knows that the day they eat of it their eyes will be opened and they will be like God, knowing what makes them happy or unhappy. To become like God with a simple magic act is irresistible and the woman allows herself to be tempted. Lapidary is the conclusion: "She took of her fruit and ate of it, then she gave it also to her husband, who was with her, and he also ate of it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened and they knew that they were naked; they plaited fig leaves and made themselves belts out of them"(6-7).  Until that moment, their nakedness (i.e. their fragility) did not seem to make them very uncomfortable, whereas now they are ashamed 'in front' of each other. This is where the relationship - one in front of the other - came into crisis, with all the consequences that mark the difficulties of relationships between us human beings.  They used to trust God, but the serpent whispered that not only was God an antagonist to them, but he was even afraid because you - he told them - 'would be like God'. In reality, their eyes have been opened, but their gaze is completely distorted: from now on they will live in fear of God and that is why they hide. But God does not abandon them, on the contrary, he seeks them out despite the fact that the original project has been contradicted: by now man has broken his relationship as a happy creature with God and is subject to fear, to discomfort in the search for his own autonomy. To the Creator's questions, the man and the woman answer the pure truth without adding or subtracting anything: both have allowed themselves to be seduced and have disobeyed. The man says that the woman gave him the fruit and the woman adds that she was deceived by the serpent: in short, everything comes from the serpent. At this point the Lord assails the serpent: "for you have done this, you cursed of all wild animals. The conclusion we can draw from this highly symbolic tale is that evil is not in man, and this is a fundamental statement of the Bible. In the face of pessimistic civilisations, which consider humanity to be intrinsically evil, biblical revelation affirms that evil is external to man: when we allow ourselves to be lured onto wrong paths, it is because we are deceived and seduced, and the struggle of all the prophets throughout the ages has aimed to counter the innumerable seductions that threaten man, primarily idolatry. Evil is completely alien to God and His wrath is always against that which destroys man. Where does evil come from if God does not want it? As already mentioned, it is clear in the Bible that evil is not part of man's nature and does not even come from God. Legitimate was the desire of the progenitors to be like gods and God does not reproach them for this having created them in his likeness and his very breath (ruah) is the breath of man. The problem is that they have succumbed to Satan's lie, certain that they can fulfil this aspiration on their own, with a sort of magical gesture, and the result is that they discover themselves naked, unhappy. All is not lost, however, and here is the most beautiful news that we read in this biblical page: God intimates to the serpent "I will put enmity between you and the woman, between your offspring and her offspring: she shall crush your head, and you shall undermine (in Hebrew shuph means to crush, to wound, to ambush, to ambush) her heel". A fierce fight is announced between the serpent and the woman's lineage, but the final outcome is already certain: the serpent will be struck in the head, which is its most vulnerable part and the point from which the bite and the poison come. The woman's lineage will be crushed, and the snake will strike and wound her heel. The wound in the heel is symbolic of the sufferings of all kinds of humanity and the voluntary sufferings of Christ crucified, a wound that is not definitive because the Risen One coming out of the tomb defeats Satan forever. Ultimately, these words of God to the serpent constitute a promise of hope of redemption fully realised in Christ. Christian tradition has glimpsed in this Genesis account a distant announcement of the victory of the New Eve, Mary, to the point of calling it a 'proto-gospel', that is, a 'pre-gospel'. Mary is considered a key element in God's plan of redemption, as she is the mother of Christ, the Saviour who defeated sin and death. Her participation in the divine plan of salvation is illuminated by the biblical texts, while subsequent theological reflection has enriched our understanding and better focused on Mary's role throughout history. One of the titles attributed to her in the Christian tradition is precisely that of the New Eve because if Eve was the woman who, by her disobedience, introduced sin into the world, Mary is the one who, by her docile and total obedience to God, made the incarnation of Christ possible.  Just as sin entered the world through a woman, salvation enters through another woman, Mary, through whom God gave the world its Saviour. The Mother of Christ is seen as a co-operator in God's victory over sin and death, and her obedience, sacrifice and intercession make her a central figure in the entire plan of salvation. Finally, three notes to better understand this text: 

1.According to the Hebrew text (Gen 2:9), one should speak of "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil", but such a translation, although correct from a grammatical point of view and often taken up in our translations, could lead to a serious misunderstanding: the terms "good" and "evil" in Italian, as in other languages, have an abstract sense that does not correspond to the concrete and existential sensitivity of Jewish thought. This is why the expression "tree of knowledge of what makes one happy or unhappy" is preferable.  

2. The knowledge of good and evil brings to mind King Solomon traditionally regarded as the symbol of wisdom and enlightened judgement. He asked God not for riches or power, but for a wise and intelligent heart to rule the people with justice (1 Kings 3:9). God granted him and made him the wisest king of his time. According to the biblical view, wisdom is not pure human intelligence, but a gift from God to discern good from evil; it is the ability to rule justly and make just decisions; it is the pursuit of universal knowledge, of nature, of the laws of the cosmos and of human life, as witnessed by the books attributed to Solomon, including Proverbs, Qoelet and the Song of Songs. Finally, it is practical and moral wisdom that integrates intellectual knowledge, moral justice and prudence in human relations. Solomon's reputation as a sage attracted rulers and scholars from distant lands, such as the Queen of Sheba, who visited him to test his wisdom (1 Kings 10:1-13). Wisdom was sought in his court because it is the true way of life.  

3.The biblical account of the sin of the progenitors invites humility because only to God belongs the possession of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, of what makes one happy or unhappy: it is therefore inaccessible to man. What to do then? The Bible invites us to feed daily on the tree of life, which is God's Law, the Torah. Unfortunately, what tempts man is always the thirst for knowledge seduced by the thirst for power in all its forms. God introduces us into another knowledge in the biblical sense, the only one that is really worthwhile, namely love. 

*Responsorial Psalm 97/98:

"All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God" (v.3). 

The speaker is Israel, who calls God "our God", highlighting the privileged relationship that exists between this small people and the God of the universe. A people that has little by little understood that its mission in the world is not to jealously guard this intimate relationship for itself, but to proclaim that God's love is for all men, gradually integrating the whole of humanity into the Covenant. In this psalm we perceive the 'two loves of God': God loves the people he has chosen for himself and he loves all the other peoples of the earth, whom the psalmist defines as 'the nations'. "The Lord has made known his salvation, in the eyes of the Gentiles he has revealed his righteousness" (v.2). And immediately afterwards, in verse 3, we find: "he has remembered his love, his faithfulness to the house of Israel". The house of Israel recalls what we call "the election of Israel". Behind this short phrase we perceive all the weight of history and the past: the simple words "his love" and "his faithfulness" strongly evoke the Covenant. If Israel's election is central, Israel must not forget that its testimony must shine before all mankind. Indeed, even now in the days of the Feast of Tabernacles or Tabernacles (sukkot or "harvest festival" Chag HaAsif), which commemorates the 40 years lived in the desert after the exit from Egypt, in Jerusalem the people already acclaim God as king on behalf of all mankind. This psalm therefore anticipates the day when God will be recognised as king of the whole earth. One of the great certainties that men of the Bible have progressively acquired is that God loves all mankind, not just Israel, and in this psalm, this certainty is also reflected in the very structure of the text. When God's victory is sung, his ultimate victory is also celebrated against all the forces of evil. As Christians, we can acclaim God with even greater strength, because our eyes have come to know Christ, the King of the world: with his Incarnation, the Kingdom of God, which is the Kingdom of love, has already begun.

* Second Reading Eph. 1:3-6.11-12

In just twelve verses, St Paul presents God's plan and invites us to join in his contemplation, a plan that consists in gathering humanity together to form one Man in Jesus Christ, the head of all creation: "making known to us the mystery of his will according to the kindness he had purposed in him for the government of the fullness of time: to bring all things in heaven and on earth back to Christ, the one head" (vv. 9-10).  Let us simply point out some good news. 

First news: God has a plan for each of us and for the whole of creation. History has meaning, direction and significance. For believers, the years do not follow one another evenly and history advances towards its fulfilment, bringing us closer, as St Paul writes "to the fullness of time" (v. 10). We could never have discovered this plan on our own because it is a mystery that infinitely surpasses us and in Paul's language, mystery is not a secret that God jealously guards, but rather his intimacy to which he invites us. 

Second news: God's will is all and only love. The words "blessing, love, grace, kindness" punctuate the text, which then bursts forth "in praise of the splendour of his grace (of his glory v.12,14) with which he has graced us in his beloved Son" (v.6). In praise of his grace because God is to be recognised as the God of grace, that is, the God whose love is gratuitous. Jesus has revealed to us that the heavenly Father is love, he wants us to enter into his intimacy and desires that in every circumstance his will be done, because it is always good.

Third emphasis: God's plan is fulfilled through Christ, who is mentioned many times in these verses: everything happens "through him, with him and in him", as the liturgy says. God has predestined us "to be for him adopted children through Jesus Christ" (v. 5). Christ is the centre of the world and of human history (the alpha and the omega); the beloved Son in whom the Father has "graced" us (v. 6) and in whom we shall all be gathered together at the fulfilment of time. The 'mystery' of God's will is indeed to recapitulate the whole universe in Christ. 

*Gospel Luke 1, 26-38

In Nazareth, a village at that time unknown and insignificant, in a province little considered by the authorities in Jerusalem, the angel Gabriel spoke to a girl named Mary, paying her the most sublime compliment ever received by a woman: "full of grace" (Kecharitomene) which means totally immersed in God's grace, filled with divine favour without any shadow. This virgin, Mary, little more than a teenager, at the end of the encounter and in perfect harmony, responds to God's plan with full adhesion: 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord: let it be to me according to your word'.  Between the angel's words and the Virgin's response, history has known the decisive turning point that is the hour of the Incarnation of the Word. From that moment on, nothing will ever be the same again because all the promises of the Old Testament now find their fulfilment. Indeed, every word of the angel evokes them and reveals the "fulfilment" of the expectation of the Messiah that has forever marked the course of the centuries. A king descendant of David was expected and here echoes the promise made to David by the prophet Nathan (2 Sam 7) from which the whole messianic expectation developed and constitutes the very heart of the angel Gabriel's announcement: "The Lord God will give him the throne of David his father and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever and his kingdom will have no end" (vv. 32-33). Another title attributed to the Messiah is "he shall be called Son of God (of the Most High)", which in biblical language means "king", referring to the promise made by God to David: every new king, on the day of his consecration, received the title of Son of God. Mary understands and reminds the angel that she is a virgin and therefore cannot conceive a child naturally. Well known is the angel's response that recalls other messianic promises, infinitely surpassing them: 'The Holy Spirit will descend upon you and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. Therefore he who is born will be holy and will be called the Son of God'.  The Messiah was expected to be invested with the power of the Holy Spirit to fulfil his mission of salvation as Isaiah had foretold: "A shoot will sprout from the trunk of Jesse, a bud will sprout from his roots. Upon him the spirit of the Lord shall rest" (Is 11:1-2), yet the announcement of the angel Gabriel goes much further because the child conceived will truly be the Son of God. Evident is Luke's insistence on this point: the child does not have a human father, but is "Son of God". The text offers two proofs/signs: firstly, Mary declares: "I know no man" (in the original text: I have no relationship with man). In addition, the angel entrusts the task of naming the child to the mother and this is a very unusual procedure, which can only be explained in the absence of a human father because it was always the father who decided on the child's name as seen in the birth of John the Baptist. The relatives turned to Zechariah, even though he was mute, and not to Elizabeth, to decide what to call the child. Moreover, when the angel reassures Mary: "the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow", it is natural to think of a new creation, bringing to mind what we read in the book of Genesis: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth... The spirit of God was upon the waters" (Gen 1:2). This same image is present in Psalm 104: "Send out your spirit, they are created" (v. 30).  The "cloud", "the shadow" of the Most High God evokes the divine presence on the Tent of Meeting during the Exodus, and on the day of the Transfiguration designates Jesus as the Son of God: "This is my Son, the chosen one; listen to him!"(Lk 9:35). 

Mary's response to such great revelations is moving and surprising, indeed it becomes a school of faith. It is of a disarming simplicity, a perfect example of "obedience of faith" as Paul says (Rom 1:5; 16:26), abandonment with total trust to the divine will. By answering 'yes, here I am', Mary joins the true believers of history.  Samuel answered: 'Speak, Lord, your servant hears you' (1 Sam 3:10) and Mary simply: 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord: let it be to me according to your word'. The term 'handmaid' proclaims full availability to God's plan and shows that a simple 'yes' is sufficient for God's works because 'nothing is impossible to God'. Thanks to the yes of Mary, an unknown girl in Nazareth, "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1:14).  The promise of the prophet Zephaniah to the people of God, who had been stained by so many crimes and unfaithfulness that they were reduced to a small remnant, comes to mind: "Rejoice, daughter of Zion, shout for joy, Israel, rejoice and shout with all your heart, daughter of Jerusalem... The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst" (Zeph 3:14-15). Today's solemnity exalts an event beyond all possible human imagination and Mary too will need her whole life to "keep all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Lk 2.19; 51). The attitude of meditation and total openness to God's will is a central aspect of Mary's life, and becomes the model of every true believer, every authentic disciple of Christ. 

*The tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  Let me add a few thoughts on the symbolic value of this tree often confused with the tree of life. It is not specified where exactly it is located and this alone tells us that its location is irrelevant to its symbolic and allegorical role.  The narrative focuses on the relationship between God and Adam and Eve and each other whereby this tree serves as a test of human beings' obedience to God and invites us to understand why we human beings have difficulty relating to each other.  Specifying the geographical location would have shifted the focus away from the main theme, which is the fall and sin. Many scholars and theologians believe that the tree of the knowledge of good and evil symbolises moral awareness, maturity and human responsibility. The absence of a geographical description also suggests that the tree is not a physical object, but a symbol of knowledge that is reserved for God and not directly accessible to man. In many Jewish and Christian traditions, the tree is seen as a symbol of a boundary between the divine and the human. God does not forbid man the tree out of cruelty, but because the kind of knowledge represented by that tree - an absolute knowledge of good and evil - is a divine prerogative, and its indefinite location might suggest that it is not a physical place reachable by human beings, but represents a spiritual dimension that can only be understood through the experience of relationship with God. Every person, in a certain sense, must face in his or her life the choice symbolically represented by the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. In Genesis, next to the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, there is also the tree of life, also not described geographically. This suggests that both trees represent aspects of spiritual life that transcend material reality. Their location is not important because they are archetypes of spiritual experiences, not physical objects.  Everything here invites reflection not on where the tree is located, but on what it represents in the journey of spiritual growth and confrontation with human freedom and responsibility.

Interpretations that see the tree of knowledge as a symbol of a transcendent reality or a boundary between the divine and the human have deep roots in both ancient and modern exegetical traditions. Here are some examples of authors and theologians, both among the Church Fathers and modern theologians, who have explored this theme:

1. St Augustine of Hippo (354-430 A.D.) interprets the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in a symbolic way, seeing it not as a mere physical tree, but as a test of obedience and free will. In his masterpiece 'The City of God', he emphasises that the tree had no inherent power, but represented the moral limit imposed by God to educate man to dependence on Him. He sees the tree as a symbol of knowledge that only God can fully possess, as man is not created to decide good and evil for himself. Work: De Genesi ad Litteram (On Genesis literally)

"The fruit of the tree was good, not by its nature, but as a sign of a greater good: man's submission to God."

2. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) in the Summa Theologiae, addresses the theme of the tree of knowledge and interprets it as a symbol of the capacity for moral discernment that God wanted to reserve for man at the appropriate time, after he had reached full maturity. According to Thomas, eating the fruit represents a rebellion against the divine order, seeking to appropriate knowledge that man alone was not ready to handle.

Work: Summa Theologiae, I-II, q. 94, a. 2 "The tree was not forbidden because of its fruit, but because of its moral significance: man had to wait for God's time to partake of full knowledge."

3. Gregory of Nyssa (4th century AD) Father of the Eastern Church, interprets the tree as a symbol of spiritual growth and the progress of the soul towards perfection. He sees the tree of knowledge as a stage that man had to reach only at a later stage, through a journey of purification and progressive knowledge of God. Work: De Hominis Opificio (On the Creation of Man) "The tree of knowledge is not evil in itself, but it becomes so when man approaches it with arrogance and disobedience, outside the time appointed by God."

4. Among modern theologians, the symbolic and transcendent interpretation of the tree is taken up by authors such as: Claus Westermann (1909-2000), a German exegete, in his commentary on Genesis, emphasises that the tree represents the moral autonomy that man seeks to gain without God. Work: Genesis (Commentary) "The tree is not merely a physical tree, but a reality that represents man's fundamental choice between trusting God or seeking his own moral independence." Henri Blocher (1942), a French evangelical theologian, interprets the tree as a symbol of the mystery of God's sovereignty, a knowledge that belongs exclusively to the Creator. Work: In the Beginning: The Opening Chapters of Genesis: "The tree represents what belongs exclusively to God: the right to define what is good and what is evil."

*In the Jewish tradition, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Etz HaDa'at Tov va-Ra') has a complex meaning and a wealth of interpretations, which often differ from Christian interpretations. While Christianity focuses on the fall and original sin, Judaism does not regard the sin of Adam and Eve as an inherited guilt, but rather as an event that offers important lessons about human beings, freedom and moral responsibility. Here are some of the main Jewish interpretations of the tree of knowledge:

1. The Tree as a symbol of maturity and discernment. Many rabbis and Jewish scholars see the tree as a symbol of the ability to discern between good and evil, a quality that Adam and Eve acquired by eating its fruit. Before eating from the tree, they lived in a state of innocence, devoid of moral awareness and responsibility.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888), one of the founders of modern Orthodox Judaism, interprets the tree as the ability to make autonomous moral choices, a necessary stage for humanity to evolve from a childlike condition to a life of responsibility. "The forbidden fruit represents the transition from childlike obedience to autonomous ethical awareness."

2. Not sin, but awareness of mortality. Some rabbis, including the philosopher Maimonides (Rambam, 1138-1204), argue that eating from the tree did not bring sin into the world, but gave human beings an awareness of their mortality and imperfect condition. For Maimonides, the tree represents sensitive and material knowledge, which contrasts with intellectual and divine knowledge. Work: Guide of the Perplexed (Moreh Nevukhim): "Before eating from the tree, Adam and Eve lived according to pure, intellectual truth; afterwards, they began to perceive the world through the lens of desire and sensible pleasure." In this view, the tree is not necessarily negative: it represents humanity's entry into a complex condition, in which good and evil, life and death, pleasure and pain are mixed.

3. Knowledge as moral responsibility. In the Midrash (rabbinic exegetical accounts), the tree is often interpreted as a test through which God wanted to teach mankind moral responsibility. Adam and Eve were not destined to remain in the Garden of Eden forever, but had to prove their ability to respect God's established boundaries. According to the Midrash Rabbah on Genesis, God wanted man to learn to respect boundaries and to understand that not everything is accessible or useful to him. The prohibition against eating from the tree symbolises the fact that human freedom is always accompanied by ethical limits. "Not everything that is desirable is good, and not everything that is permitted is necessary."

4. The fruit of the tree: symbolism and interpretations. Jewish tradition does not explicitly identify what the fruit of the tree was. However, there are several rabbinic interpretations of the type of fruit: Fig: Some commentators suggest that it was a fig, since Adam and Eve immediately covered themselves with fig leaves after eating the fruit (Genesis 3:7). Grapes: According to another midrashic tradition, the fruit may have been grapes, a symbol of desire and wine, which brings both joy and misfortune. Wheat: Some rabbis interpret the fruit as grains of wheat, symbolising knowledge and the ability to distinguish between good and evil, since in Jewish culture wheat is linked to wisdom.

5. The role of God and human freedom. In Jewish tradition, the tree of knowledge is often interpreted as a gift that God grants to human beings to enable them to become co-creators of their own destiny. Unlike the Christian tradition, which emphasises the concept of the fall and sin, Judaism emphasises the importance of freedom of choice and the possibility of rectifying one's actions through repentance (teshuvah); it is therefore seen as an educational challenge that leads human beings to grow in awareness and responsibility. Authors such as Maimonides, Hirsch and the Midrash Rabbah emphasise that the essence of the tale is the theme of moral freedom, the need to accept the limits imposed by God and the possibility of spiritual evolution.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole 

The Yoke on the Little Ones: religion turned into obsession - for "held back" people

(Mt 11:28-30)

The rabbis chose the disciples from among those who had greater intellectual and ascetic abilities.

Jesus, on the other hand, goes to look for outside the loop, the «infants» (v.25) who didn’t even have self-esteem.

He frees precisely the sick from external constraints, and allow each one to release his inner strength.

Christ does not announce a very distant God, but Close; and the effective itinerary to become intimate with the Father is to know oneself as liberated family member.

Only here can we grasp Him in the centre of His ‘unveiling’: wise, helpful, united Power; for us, as we are.

The experts of official religion - overflowing with self-love and sense of election - preached an almighty Sovereign to be convinced with sure attitudes and artificial, sharp, imperious making.

They didn’t let persons be or become. Intransigence was a sign that they did not know the Father.

The Eternal transformed into Controller had become a source of discrimination and obsession for the intimate lives of minute, vexed by the insecurity of distinguishing-avoiding-observing, and by doubts of conscience.

Bothered by living in the first person [and as class] the conversion they preached to others, the professors did not realize they had to empty themselves of absurd presumptions and become - they - students of normal people.

We are not the subordinates of a scowling and all distant but manipulative Lord, and that asks to always be alert, with effort.

The new ones, the nullities, the voiceless, inadequate and invisible, do not know how to calculate in terms of norm and code - ancient «yoke»  (vv.29-30) that crushes vocations.

No one is empowered by God to force directions, to keep an eye on others in a maniacal, perfectionist and meticulous way [exasperating our failures].

The Father doesn’t want to exacerbate events by regulating every detail even "spiritual" starting from irritating patterns of vigilance that do not belong to us.

Sons prefer to let their personal paths of dealing with reality flow; thus tracing their essential and spontaneous energies.

They reason according to codes of life and humanization: nature, unrepeatable history, cultural influences, friendships of wide character. We don’t live to prevent.

Only in this way can we enrich the fundamental experience: Love - which does not come from judgments, cuts and separations, but from the Father-Son relationship. The bond that doesn't get us angry.

Root of the transformation of being into the Unpredictable of God is precisely the hiding, the concealment [‘tapeínōsis’ (‘lowering’), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, "low") [v.29 Greek text; Lc 1:48].

Only those who love strength start from too far away from themselves.

To internalize and live the message:

Do you suffer from some guide or from yourself a kind of controller complex?

[Wednesday 2nd wk. in Advent, December 11, 2024]

Religion turned into obsession - for "held back"

(Mt 11:28-30)

The rabbis chose disciples from among those who had greater intellectual and ascetic abilities. Jesus, on the other hand, goes looking for the outcasts, the "infants" (v.25) who did not even have self-esteem.

Even for the rebirth that lies ahead today, Christ has no need of false phenomena; on the contrary, it is He who frees from external constraints; He releases inner strength [and also heals the brain].

Into the intimacy of the Mystery of divine life enters he who knows how to receive everything and lets go - but remains himself.

God is not distant, but very close; he is not great, but small: the effective itinerary for becoming intimate with the Father is not to make oneself subordinate with effort, but to know how to be dissolved family members.

Only here can we grasp him in the centre of his unveiling: wise power, succouring, united; for us, as we are.

The pundits of official religion - overflowing with self-love and a sense of election - preached a God to be persuaded with confident attitudes and contrived, edgy, imperious actions.

They allowed neither being nor becoming. Their intransigence was a sign that they did not know the Father.

The Eternal One transformed into the Controller had become a source of discrimination and obsession for the intimate lives of minute people, harassed by the insecurity of distinguish-avoid-observe, and by doubts of conscience.

Discouraged from living personally (and as a class) the conversion they preached to others, the professors did not realise that they had to empty themselves of absurd presumptions and become - they - pupils of ordinary people.

In short, as children we are incessantly invited to build a multifaceted Family, where we are not always on the alert.

We are not the subordinates of a frowning and all-distant - but manipulative - Lord.

Rather, we are called to a paradoxical, personal and class choice: and without forcing it, to recognise ourselves - to stand alongside the humiliated and harassed.

This while provincial false piety continues to drag burdens - precisely those of the thwarted and weary, of existence made more hesitant rather than free; obsessed and heavy, rather than light.

Why? Without mincing words, the Encyclical Fratelli Tutti would answer:

"The best way to dominate and advance without limits is to sow hopelessness and arouse constant distrust, albeit masked by the defence of certain values" (no.15).

As if to say: when the authorities and the leaders have little credibility, only the sowing of fear produces significant conditioning in the people, and puts them on a leash.

In the widespread Church, only in the last few decades have we overcome the cliché of moralistic and terroristic preaching [e.g. even at Advent time] divorced from a meridian sense of humanisation.

The excluded, dejected and exhausted by meaningless fulfilments have nevertheless continued to meet the Saviour frankly, finding rest of soul, conviction, peace, balance, hope.

Instinctively, they were able to carve out what no pyramid religion had ever been able to provide and deploy.

In this way, the new, the voiceless, the inadequate and invisible, never know how to calculate in terms of doctrine and laws, norm and code - ancient 'yoke' (vv.29-30) unbearable, crushing people and concrete vocations; particular autonomies or communionalities.

In short, no 'patriarch' is empowered by God to pack our souls, force directions, and keep a maniacal, perfectionist, meticulous eye on us.

Exaggerating failures, across the board.

Everyone has an innate way of being in the world, all their own - even if it is habitual. It is an opportunity of impulse and richness for everyone.

We ourselves do not want to exacerbate events by regulating every detail, even 'spiritual' ones, from irritating patterns of vigilance that do not belong to us.

We prefer to let personal ways of dealing with reality flow; thus tracing its essential and spontaneous energies.

We reason according to codes of life and humanisation: temperament, unrepeatable history, cultural influences, broad friendships. We do not live to prevent.

Only in this way can we enrich the fundamental experience: Love - which does not come from judgements, cuts and separations, but from the Father-Son relationship. The only one that does not stigmatise.

The root of the transformation of being in the Unpredictable of God is precisely concealment, 'tapinōsis' [(tapeínōsis, 'lowering'), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, 'low') [v.29 Greek text; Lk 1:48].

Only those who love strength start from the too far from themselves.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you find yourself more or less free and serene in community?

Does your Calling gain breath or do you feel the burden of others' doubts, judgements, prohibitions and prescriptions?

Do you suffer from some guide or from yourself a kind of controller complex?

Man needs to be liberated from material oppressions, but more profoundly, he must be saved from the evils that afflict the spirit. And who can save him if not God, who is Love and has revealed his face as almighty and merciful Father in Jesus Christ? Our firm hope is therefore Christ: in him, God has loved us to the utmost and has given us life in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10), the life that every person, even if unknowingly, longs to possess.

“Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” These words of Jesus, written in large letters above the entrance to your Cathedral in Brno, he now addresses to each of us, and he adds: “Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Mt 11:29-30). Can we remain indifferent in the face of his love? Here, as elsewhere, many people suffered in past centuries for remaining faithful to the Gospel, and they did not lose hope; many people sacrificed themselves in order to restore dignity to man and freedom to peoples, finding in their generous adherence to Christ the strength to build a new humanity. In present-day society, many forms of poverty are born from isolation, from being unloved, from the rejection of God and from a deep-seated tragic closure in man who believes himself to be self-sufficient, or else merely an insignificant and transient datum; in this world of ours which is alienated “when too much trust is placed in merely human projects” (Caritas in Veritate, 53), only Christ can be our certain hope. This is the message that we Christians are called to spread every day, through our witness.

[Pope Benedict, homily at Tuřany Airport in Brno 27 September 2009]