Solemnity of Corpus Christi [7 June 2026]

First reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (8:2–3, 14b–16)

The text calls on the people of Israel to remember their long journey through the desert following their exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. The forty years in the desert were marked by hunger, thirst, poverty, snakes, scorpions and loneliness. But the central point is not the suffering itself: it is God’s faithful presence in the midst of trials. God fed the people with manna; he brought water forth from the rock; he protected Israel during their journey; he concluded the Covenant on Mount Sinai. The trials of the desert are presented as a divine ‘pedagogy’: God educates his people as a father educates his son. Through fragility, Israel learns two truths: its own poverty and dependence, and at the same time God’s constant care. The fundamental message is that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that comes from God: his Word, his Spirit, his presence. The text also emphasises the duty of remembrance: ‘Remember’, ‘do not forget’. To remember means to remain faithful to one’s roots and to the Covenant. Forgetting God leads to idolatry and enslavement to other powers. When Israel settles in the Promised Land of Canaan, the danger will no longer be the desert, but prosperity and forgetfulness. For this reason, obedience to the commandments becomes essential. The final section offers a significant image: memory is like the roots of a tree; a people without memory dies spiritually; the future depends on fidelity to one’s roots. Finally, the text links everything to Jesus Christ, who in the desert echoes the words of Deuteronomy: ‘Man does not live by bread alone’. On the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the believer is invited to welcome God into their heart. The memory of a people (or a community, or a couple) is a bit like the roots of a tree: today we see the tree, we do not see the roots… yet it lives only thanks to them and owes everything to them, in a sense. Imagine a tree saying: ‘I am separating myself from my roots; they prevent me from moving, worse still, they prevent me from flying’. The rest of the story would be the death of the tree. In the truest sense of the word, the tree’s future lies in its roots. When Moses tells his people “Remember” or “do not forget”, it is as if he were saying to them “do not cut yourself off from your roots”, “your future lies in your faithfulness to your roots”. Moses does not look to the past out of sentiment; but it is precisely because he is entirely focused on the future that he is concerned with fidelity to one’s roots. He says something along the lines of: ‘If you want to still be standing tomorrow, do not forget today who you are and to whom you owe it.’ From century to century, Israel has built itself up by remaining faithful to its roots. Jesus, in turn, to resist the tempter, simply echoed the words of Deuteronomy: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Mt 4:4).

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 147/148 

Praise the Lord, Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! We must note this parallel: Zion and Jerusalem are one and the same. And, moreover, when we speak of Zion or Jerusalem here, we are referring not so much to the city as to its inhabitants—that is, ultimately, the people of Israel. The expression: ‘Praise the Lord, Jerusalem!’ can be easily dated: we are at the time of the return from the Babylonian exile, that is, at the end of the 6th century, when it was necessary to rebuild the city and restore the Temple. Without God’s help, none of this would have been possible: He has strengthened the bars of Jerusalem’s gates! In the previous psalm, God is called the ‘builder of Jerusalem’ and the ‘gatherer of the scattered of Israel’ (Ps 146/147 A,2). But this is not merely a task of architecture that God has accomplished: this return to the homeland is a true restoration of the people; a new life is about to begin—a life of peace and security: ‘He grants peace within your borders and satisfies you with the finest wheat’. In exile, the people ate the bread of tears and bitterness; the return to the homeland is a time of abundance. The second very strong emphasis of this psalm is the keen awareness of the privilege represented by the election of Israel: the Lord has not done this for any other nation; he has not made his laws known to them. We read in the Book of Deuteronomy: ‘You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: he has chosen you to be his people, his special possession among all the peoples of the earth (Dt 7:6; 10:15). This is a free and inexplicable choice of God, one that never ceases to amaze us and for which we never cease to give thanks. From a human perspective, this choice cannot be explained; the only explanation Moses found is that because he loved your forefathers, he chose their descendants and brought you out of Egypt by his presence and his great power (cf. Dt 4:37). It is therefore simply a love story with no other explanation. At first, Israel did not feel it was living in an exclusive Covenant with the God of Sinai and thought that other peoples had their own protective gods: Israel was not yet monotheistic, but ‘monolatrous’ (also known as ‘enotheistic’), that is, it worshipped a single God, the God of Sinai, who had delivered it from Egypt. It only truly became “monotheistic” during the Babylonian exile (in the 6th century BC). A new leap in faith then took place alongside the discovery of universalism: if the God of Sinai was the one and only God, then He was also the God of all peoples. However, this did not negate the election of Israel, as can be seen in certain texts of the prophet Isaiah: “You, Israel, my servant whom I have chosen, descendant of Abraham my friend… Fear not, for I am with you… I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, and uphold you with my victorious right hand” (Isa 41:8–10). Isaiah also helped his contemporaries understand that their election now took on a different form: that of a vocation to serve other peoples, to be witnesses of God among them. “I will make you a light to the nations, so that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Is 49:6).

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (10:16–17)

In this text, Paul frames the whole matter with two warnings: ‘Beloved, flee from idolatry’ (v. 14) ‘Do we wish to provoke the Lord to jealousy?’ (v. 22) In the Bible, God’s “jealousy” is always a warning against idolatry.   In Corinth, some Christians, converts from paganism, were tempted to continue taking part in the sacred feasts in the temples of idols, offering animal sacrifices. For Paul, there are no half-measures: either one enters into communion with the living God in the Eucharist, or one seeks another communion. One cannot partake “of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons”. Another practical question was whether a Christian could eat the meat from idolatrous sacrifices sold in the market. Paul replies that one may eat it because idols do not exist and therefore there is no sacred meat; nevertheless, one must avoid causing offence to those who are  weak in faith.

He then emphasises the Christian meal of the Eucharist, which is, in contrast, true communion with Christ. Paul highlights the significance of the Christian meal and asks: ‘Is not the cup of blessing a communion with the blood of Christ? Is not the bread we break a communion with the body of Christ?’ The Greek word is koinonia: communion, intimate participation, mutual belonging.  Christ himself, at the Last Supper, spoke of the ‘New Covenant in my blood’. And in the biblical Covenant there is mutual belonging: ‘You shall be my people and I shall be your God’. The entire Eucharistic Liturgy is the place where the Covenant is fulfilled.  The Eucharist is a meal of communion as in ancient cults, but the value of the sacrifice has changed. God no longer asks for the killing of animals, but for the gift of life: ‘You do not desire sacrifice and offering, [...] so I said: “Here I am”’ (Ps 39/40).   Christ offered his whole life. And, by participating in the Eucharist, we unite our lives to his to offer them to the Father. Paul dares to say: ‘The bread we break is communion with the body of Christ’, that is, we form one body with him, and for this reason we can live as he did. St Augustine sums it up: ‘You become what you receive; you receive what you are.’ By receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, we in turn become lives offered for the birth of a new humanity; an exclusive choice, for one cannot serve both God and idols, and, in the logic of the gift, 

the Christian sacrifice is to offer one’s own life united with that of Christ. We become bread broken for others; thus, in a single sentence: we understand that the Eucharist is the place where the transcendent God draws intimately near to us and transforms us into a gift for the world. 

From the Gospel according to John (6:51–58)

Here is a discourse that is hard to accept, yet it is the word of Life. After the discourse on the Bread of Life, many disciples abandon Jesus. His words are, humanly speaking, incomprehensible. Jesus then addresses the Twelve directly: ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ And Peter replies: ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ It is the paradox of faith: these words cannot be explained by strict logic, but only by living them, and the lesson is clear: it is not from books that one understands what the Eucharist is, but by participating in it and allowing oneself to be drawn into the mystery of Christ. The word ‘life’ recurs several times in this discourse: ‘The bread that I will give is my flesh, given for the life of the world’ and, as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews: ‘Entering the world, Christ says: “Behold, I come to do your will.” And God’s will is that the world may have life.  It is a free gift, as Isaiah had already announced: ‘All you who are thirsty, come to the water… buy without money, without payment’ (Is 55:1-3), because what gives us life is the gift of Christ’s life, that is, his sacrifice. The biblical teaching on sacrifice reveals a progressive conversion: from the idea of bloody sacrifices, including human ones, to the absolute prohibition of human sacrifice, leading to the acceptance of sacrifice as an offering of bread and wine (Melchizedek, Gen 14:18). The Songs of the Servant also help us understand that the true sacrifice is to give one’s life for others. And Jesus says that his life is given entirely for humanity. The bread that I will give is my flesh, given so that the world may have life. In the Eucharistic sacrifice, by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, Christ remains in us and we in him; in Jesus, therefore, we receive the very life of God: ‘Just as the Father, who has life, sent me and I live for the Father, so whoever eats me will live for me’. The essential conversion is to move from ‘performing the sacred’—that is, offering things to God—to learning to receive the Life that God gives us in Christ, so that we too may become life given to others. In short: the Eucharist cannot be explained but must be lived, for it is the gift of Christ’s life that draws us into Him, transforms us and enables us to give life for the world. A final note: the word ‘flesh’ that Jesus uses here is equivalent to ‘life’, and we can therefore understand that the Eucharist is his life given so that the world may have life. How? Through his passion, death and resurrection. Immersed in the Paschal Mystery through the Eucharist, each of us is called to welcome the life that God gives us so that we, in turn, may be the Eucharist, a gift of life for all.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 5:17-19)

In the face of the Law’s precepts, distant attitudes appear.

There are those who demonstrate attachment to the material sense of what has been established. Others, omission or contempt for the rules.

Jesus offered such a new and radical teaching as to give the impression of carelessness and rejection of the Law. But in fact, more than his differences with it, He was attentive to the profound meaning of the biblical-Jewish directives.

He did not intend to «demolish» (v.17) the Torah, but he certainly avoided allowing himself to be minimized in the cases of morality that parceled out the basic choices - and made them all exterior, without fulcrum.

The legalistic sclerotization easily tended to equate the codes... with God. But for the believer, his "obligation" is at the same time Event, Word, and Person: global following.

In the first communities some faithful believed that the norms of the First Testament should no longer be considered, as we are saved by Faith, not by works of Law.

Others accepted Jesus as the Messiah, but could not bear the excess of freedom with which some brothers of the church lived his Presence.

Still linked to an ideal ethnic background, they believed that ancient observance was mandatory.

There was no lack of brothers enraptured by an excess of fantasies in the Spirit. In fact, some denied the Hebrew Scriptures and considered themselves free from history: they no longer looked at the life of Jesus.

Mt seeks a balance between emancipation and closure.

He writes his Gospel to support converts to the Faith in Christ in the communities of Galilee and Syria, accused by the Judaizers of being unfaithful to the Torah.

The evangelist clarifies that Jesus himself had been accused of serious transgressions to the Law of Moses.

The trajectory of the Jewish Scriptures is the right one, but it does not have an unanimous and totally clear starting point, nor the strength in itself to reach Target.

The arrow of the Torah has been shot in the right direction, but only in the Spirit of the Beatitudes can a living assembly gain momentum to reach Communion.

The Gospel passage is concerned to emphasise: the ancient Scriptures, the historical story of Jesus, and life in the Spirit must be evaluated inseparable aspects of a single plan of salvation.

Lived in synergy, they lead to the conviviality of differences.

The God of the patriarchs makes himself present in the loving relationship of the communities, through faith in Christ, who expands his own life in their hearts.

The Living One conveys the Spirit that spurs all creativity, He overcomes unfriendly closures; He opens, and invites.

[In us, Jesus of Nazareth becomes a living Body - and the pleasure of doing manifests Him (from the soul) in Person and full Fidelity].

Handing oneself out to brothers and going to God thus becomes agile, spontaneous, rich and very personal for everyone: the Strength comes from within.

New or ancient Words, and Spirit renewing the face of the earth, are part of one Plan.

Only in the total fascination of the Risen One does our harvest come to complete life - the full objective of the Law - becoming ‘forever’.

[Wednesday 10th wk. in O.T.  June 10, 2026]

Not flawed Happiness

(Mt 5:17-19)

In the early communities, some believers felt that the rules of the First Testament should no longer be considered, since we are saved by faith and not by works of the Law.

Others accepted Jesus as the Messiah, but could not tolerate the excessive freedom with which some of their brothers in the Church lived his Presence in the Spirit. 

Still tied to an ideal ethnic background, they believed that ancient observances were binding.

Under the pretext of 'life in the Spirit', there were believers who were carried away by excessive fantasies (personal or group), which they considered 'inspired'.

Some, with an easy-going mentality, inclined to compromise with power, rejected the Hebrew Scriptures and considered themselves detached from history: they no longer looked at the story of Jesus.

Matthew seeks a balance between compromising emancipation and closure in observances, believing that the community experience could achieve harmony between different sensibilities.

He wrote his Gospel precisely to support converts to the Faith in Christ in the communities of Galilee and Syria, accused by their Judaizing brothers of being unfaithful to the Torah.

The evangelist makes it clear that Jesus himself had been accused of serious transgressions against the Law of Moses.

The arrow of the Torah was shot in the right direction, but only in the Spirit of the Beatitudes can a living assembly gain momentum to reach the ideal goal: Communion.

Matthew is concerned to emphasise that the ancient Scriptures, the historical events of Jesus, and life in the Spirit must be seen as inseparable aspects of a single plan of salvation.

Lived in synergy, they lead to fruitful coexistence and conviviality of differences.

The God of the patriarchs makes himself present in the loving relationship of the community, through faith in Christ, who expands his own life in our hearts.

The Living One transmits the Spirit that spurs all creativity, overcomes closed-mindedness, opens, and invites.

In short, in us, Jesus of Nazareth becomes a living Body, and the joy of doing so manifests itself (starting from the soul) in Person and in full Fidelity.

Reaching out to our brothers and sisters and going to God thus becomes easy, spontaneous, rich and very personal for everyone: strength comes from within, not from common ideas, legacies, seductions, mannerisms or external pressures.

To internalise and live the message:

Has the law written in stone remained rigid within you, or do you feel an impulse towards a new Covenant?

Do you sense within yourself an actualised and irresistible desire for good, which rediscovers everything in the Scriptures and energises the Word in the various tastes of doing?

Demolish or Accomplish

Faced with the precepts of the Law, different attitudes emerge.

On the one hand, there are those who show attachment to the material meaning of what has been established; on the other, there are those who omit or despise the norms.

Jesus offered a teaching so new and radical that it gave the impression of disregard and rejection of the Law. But in fact, rather than diverging from it, He was attentive to the spirit and profound meaning of the biblical-Jewish directives.

He did not intend to 'destroy' (v. 17) the Torah, but he certainly avoided even more being reduced to moral casuistry.

This obsession with ethics—still alive in the early communities—fragmented and eroded the meaning of fundamental choices, rendering them all superficial and without substance.

In this way, a legalistic sclerosis was produced, which easily tended to equate the codes... with God.

But for the believer, his 'obligation' is at once event, spirit of the Word, and Person: global following in those same incomparable appointments.

The faithful of the communities of Galilee and Syria were criticised by the old-fashioned Jews.

These observant Jews accused their fellow believers who had converted to the new personal, creative Faith of being transgressors and contrary to the depth of the common Tradition.

Thus, some emphasised salvation through faith alone in Christ and not through works of the law. Others did not accept the freedom that was growing precisely in those who were beginning to believe in Jesus the Messiah.

New, more radical currents already wanted to disregard his history and his Person, to get rid of him and take refuge in a generic 'avant-garde' or 'freedom of spirit' - without backbone, vicissitudes or connections.

Matthew helps us understand the conflict: the direction of the arrow shot from the Jewish Scriptures is the right one, but it does not have a clear starting point, nor the strength to reach its target.

The evangelist harmonises the tensions, emphasising that authentic observance is not formal fidelity [obedience to the 'letter'].

The fundamental spirit of fulfilment does not allow us to put the whole Christ and his trials and tribulations in brackets, perhaps remaining neutral or indifferent dreamers.

Without reductions by virtue of election, nor 'breaking down' (see17) the ancient and identified or particular ways of being - He is present in the most diverse currents of thought.

New words, ancient words, and the Spirit that renews the face of the earth are part of a single Plan.

Only in the total charm of the Risen One does our harvest come to full life - the full goal of the Law - becoming forever.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you evaluate the Pentateuch, the Psalms and the Prophets?

How do you deal with situations in harmony with the Voice of the Lord and in his Spirit?

Pure and impure: God's Law or Tradition

(Mt 15:1-2, 10-14)

The encyclical Fratelli Tutti invites us to take a forward-looking view that inspires decision and action: a new eye, filled with hope.

It "speaks to us of a reality that is rooted in the depths of the human being, regardless of the concrete circumstances and historical conditioning in which he lives. It speaks to us of a thirst, an aspiration, a longing for fulfilment, for a life lived to the full, for a measure of greatness, for that which fills the heart and lifts the spirit to great things, such as truth, goodness and beauty, justice and love. [...] Hope is bold, it knows how to look beyond personal comfort, the small securities and compensations that narrow the horizon, to open up to great ideals that make life more beautiful and dignified' (No. 55; from a Greeting to young people in Havana, September 2015).

The invisible Friend within us is the only Guide we should follow with prudence and determination.

He is the only Spiritual Master who understands what is different and does not harass it, because he does not use it (to promote himself or his own category).

The paradox of Law or Tradition belongs to v. 3 - initially understood, then excluded from the Liturgy: "Why do you also transgress the Commandment of God in the name of your Tradition?"

Habits normalise manners.

Over time, customs that are mechanically fulfilled cause us to lose the meaning of the Commandments from which they sprang.

And empty moral customs then ruin lives (vv. 4-9), annoy and exacerbate people's spirits.

The laws of purity discriminated against people and filled them with resentment.

Instead, exclusivity must not be introduced into the Eucharistic Banquet. Nor does one become part of the Community of the Lord on the basis of ambiguous selections.

The washing of hands up to the elbows was a customary practice, proclaiming the separation of the Judaizers from the pagan world: a sort of rite celebrating the separation between the (supposedly) pure and the impure.

The Eucharist, on the other hand, is accessed without arcane procedures or disciplines, or preventive X-rays.

Everyone is welcome, because it is the encounter with God that makes humanity of any cultural background alive and healthy.

For Jesus, access to the Father cannot be regulated: it depends on the person and their circumstances.

Therefore, communion with God is immediate and free, completely devoid of any prior conditions of perfection.

According to him, children can appear before the Father in any situation, at any time and in any manner: in a relationship of immediacy and freedom. 

Only the poor quality of our relationships with our neighbours can contaminate women and men, nothing else.

There are no other obligations or fears that can obsess us with imperfection, inadequacy or unworthiness.

On the contrary, people lived in a climate of obsession, overwhelmed by fears about details that did not interest God.

And in the effervescence of Semitic culture, there was no lack of a current more sensitive to the social and real needs of life [linked to the theology of the prophets and psalms] that gave rise to Jesus of Nazareth.

A growing number of believers no longer agreed with the legalistic teaching of the official leaders.

In addition, the expectation of the Messiah helped them to hope for a path of 'purity' linked to quality of life and concrete relationships.

Christ opens up a completely new way to bring ordinary people closer to greater balance, to an understanding and communion with the Father, animated by creative, spousal trust.

In the realm of faith, it is life that conquers death.

According to conventional religiosity, it is the seed of death that contaminates purity.

In this prison of misguided ideas, people lived with the fear of sin and transgressions (even involuntary ones) always clinging to them.

To free the oppressed masses from the moralistic and devout ideology that subjected them to daily torment in all aspects of life, Jesus was forced to overturn the 'inside-outside' hierarchy (v. 11).

Spiritual leaders instilled the idea that impurity came from outside and was so pervasive that it contaminated even holy people [even through a simple brush against them - let alone the masses destined to an ordinary existence of deprivation].

Jesus, on the other hand, makes us feel good.

He reverses the virtues at play, well aware of the power of Life, and takes the debate about pure and impure to another level: that of depth, behaviour and relationship.Even today, Faith gives us balance and complete trust in the providential tide of real Grace, which even in times of rebirth from crisis comes to reactivate us with its unexpected impulses - far from being merely religious or sterile.

It tirelessly opens new paths to help us realise ourselves and reach God. 

The Father, Son and Holy Spirit emancipate us from corporate attitudes and from always being on the defensive; they restore our self-esteem and joy of living, and make us feel at home.

In short, Christ's teaching is Good News precisely because it is the exact opposite of established conventions.

His goal is to let us live intensely, with the perception that He is within us guiding the helm. And to do so more wisely, instead of ending up badly - as in the same old mass grave [v.14; where only a few artificial positions of leadership and plagiarism are saved - meaningless to us].

For transparent coexistence

Jesus and the mania for governing: the blind man and those who are blinded

[ref. Lk 6:39-45)]

'Leave them alone! They are blind guides. But if a blind man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit' (Mt 15:14).

'How much our human family needs to learn to live together in harmony and peace, without everyone having to be the same!' (Pope Francis FT n.100).

To live in a fraternal and wise way, it is not enough to be together in twos, threes, tens or more: we could be like so many blind people who do not know how to live with themselves.

In that case, our relationships become superficial and can become empty, filled only with judgement: critical, stubborn and pedantic.

Then resentment arises within us, because we are forced into a maniacal space that does not correspond to us.

The inevitable malaise begins to decline if and when those who coordinate the group or company live their closeness with extreme modesty, with a sense of their own boundaries.

The Way of the Spirit is in fact a vocational initiative-response to the need for authentic guidance.

Authentic shepherds help only when they question themselves before others, when they do not get caught up in an exercise of empty indoctrination and moralism that exacerbates and irritates people.

Thus, the inner Friend who infallibly leads souls wants to be reflected in 'teachers' - but only to the extent that they introduce us to ourselves and to the wisdom of Scripture (rather than indulging in their own megalomania).

Commenting on Tao xxix, Master Ho-shang Kung points out (of those who want to be lord of the world):

"He wants to rule creatures through action. In my opinion, he will not succeed, because the Way of Heaven and the hearts of men are clear.

The Way of Heaven [Perfection of Harmony] detests confusion [regarding one's own nature, spontaneously expressed] and impurity [artifice], the human heart detests too many desires'.

The ancient chosen people found themselves hard-hearted, lost and without a horizon, because they were misled by religious leaders who were fiscal and down-to-earth.

Their blinding and artificial blindness was the concrete ruin of the destiny and quality of life of the entire nation.

Jesus addresses the apostles so that his assemblies of naive, humble and disoriented people do not suffer the same fate - because of a lack of righteousness on the part of those responsible for the community.

The latter, intoxicated by self-satisfaction, sometimes, instead of humanising, promoting and brightening the lives of ordinary people, willingly suffocate them with minutiae and lead them astray with trivialities.

The Lord absolutely does not want the leaders of his fraternities to allow themselves the luxury of becoming superior to others and masters of the truth. The truth of the Gospel is not something one has, but something one does.

The Master is not one who gives lessons: he accompanies his disciples and lives with them; he does not limit himself to manners.

He does not teach various subjects, etiquette, mannerisms, good manners: rather, he transmits the living and global Person of Christ - even without etiquette - without depersonalising the disciple.

In short, the Risen One is not just an example to imitate, a model that requires commitments and minutiae, a founder of an institution, of a specific ideology, or of a religion (grammar, doctrine, style and discipline).

In Jesus, we are called to identify with him - not 'by ear' or by copying. Faith itself is a multifaceted relationship.

It pushes us to reinterpret Christ in a new way; each of us in relation to our life story, new situations, events, cultural emergencies, sensibilities, and the spirit of the times.

It is the direct and personal experience of the Father as advocated by the Son. It is a conquest that overturns childish, worldly or customary measures.

It is a source and appropriation that allows us to boldly see ourselves as already redeemed, to pass from darkness to light without conditions or hammering trials.

The Lord's light is the fruit of unprecedented action and the strength of the Spirit.It is intuition of signs and Virtue that overcomes the disorientation of all those who are led astray, whether they are prisoners of opinions, pettiness, solitary selfishness or otherwise.

Unexpected energy that nevertheless comes into play thanks to the difficult situations to which it feels compelled to react; and it becomes regenerating power, unexpected life (for those already saved here and now).

Christ asks for an inventive attitude even in reaching out to one's brother - without preconceived, suffocating, morbid or cerebral patterns and codicils; without perhaps, only to welcome. 

This openness is almost impossible if community ministers remain distracted or are already biased, and therefore unnecessarily rigid towards others.

In this way, they would remain pedantic, more impatient than the pagan God they still have in their bodies and minds.

All of us, freely healed, have been called by name in a special way to guide our brothers and sisters towards fundamental choices. As expert guides of the soul and of the intensity of relationships.

Not commanders and rulers with no possibility of replacement: but bread, support, nourishment, a shining sign of the Lord, a spur in favour of the lives of others.

Church leaders must be very special points of reference and cornerstones of creative, regenerating communion, from which the persistence and tolerance of a higher force of reciprocity shines through.

The eyes of the faithful in Christ remain clear and bright because they find brilliant friends who introduce them to confront and reflect not on external models (induced by opinions or intentions), but on the Word.

Conditioned by the bombardment of the 'external society' or by trivial partisan interests, spiritual leaders themselves can lose their creative discernment.

Thus, he clings to the old man, bound to vain hopes; many little and insignificant nothings - and finally becomes "blind" again.

Unfortunately, the kingdom of darkness includes not only the short-sighted, the long-sighted and the astigmatic, but above all those who see 'far' (as they say) but not the people before their eyes.

Faster and more organised than others, they take control of the situation.

For a long time, things seem pleasant in their company, but having no deep roots, it is precisely these people who ultimately ruin the fate of the weak.

They organise events or festivals instead of revitalising from within and singing the authentic song of a full life, joyful for all.

Beyond short-sightedness, attention should also be paid to 'moderation': we are not called to become good-natured, impeccable gentlemen, nor slightly more prudent and 'practical' defeatists.

All these are old failures that do not face the present and do not open up the future.

We have received the gift of the mission to build the world in the Risen One, who radiates strength and divine spark: radically new heavens and earth, even in our search.

Let us not dwell on the "specks".

In short, through grace, guidance, propulsive orientation and action, the genuine Action of vital Providence distances us from the domination of ancient superstructures ["beams" in the eye].

With such personal baggage, we can also become companions of a humanity that is no longer alienated, but enabled to breathe beyond the usual fervour... which incites trivialities.

Despite our faults, guided and blessed by the great Master and his Word in the Spirit, it will be our desire for a full and complete life that will not allow us to lose sight of our sacred Uniqueness in the world.

When the Lord Jesus was teaching the crowds, he did not fail to confirm the law which the Creator had inscribed on men’s hearts and had then formulated on the tablets of the Decalogue.  “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets;  I have come not to abolish them but to fulfil them.  For truly, I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the law until all is accomplished” (Mt 5:17-18).  But Jesus showed us with a new clarity the unifying centre of the divine laws revealed on Sinai, namely love of God and love of neighbour:  “To love [God] with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbour as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices” (Mk 12:33).  Indeed, in his life and in his Paschal Mystery Jesus brought the entire law to completion.  Uniting himself with us through the gift of the Holy Spirit, he carries with us and in us the “yoke” of the law, which thereby becomes a “light burden” (Mt 11:30).  In this spirit, Jesus formulated his list of the inner qualities of those who seek to live their faith deeply:  Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who weep, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for justice, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake ... (cf. Mt 5:3-12).

[Pope Benedict, homily Warsaw 26 May 2006]

Let us first place ourselves from the point of view of the direct hearers of the Sermon on the Mount, those who have heard the words of Christ. They are sons and daughters of the chosen people - people who from God - Yahweh himself - had received the "Law", had also received the "Prophets" who had repeatedly, throughout the centuries, blamed precisely the relationship maintained with that Law, the many transgressions of it. Christ also speaks of such transgressions. But even more He speaks of such a human interpretation of the Law, in which the proper meaning of good and evil, specifically intended by the Divine Lawgiver, is erased and disappears. For the law is above all a means, an indispensable means so that "righteousness may abound" (words of Matthew 5:20, in the old translation). Christ wants that righteousness to "surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees". He did not accept the interpretation that they had given down the centuries to the authentic content of the Law, insofar as they subjected that content, i.e. the design and will of the Lawgiver, to a certain extent, to the various weaknesses and limitations of the human will, resulting precisely from the threefold concupiscence. This was a casuistic interpretation, which was superimposed on the original vision of good and evil, connected with the Law of the Decalogue. If Christ tends towards the transformation of the ethos, He does so above all to recover the fundamental clarity of interpretation: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish but to fulfil" ( Mt 5:17 ). A condition of fulfilment is right understanding.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 13 August 1980]

Gospel [...] continues the “Sermon on the Mount”: Jesus’ first great preaching. Today’s theme is Jesus’ attitude toward the Jewish Law. He says: “Think not that I have come to abolish the Law and the Prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfil them” (Mt 5:17). Jesus did not want to do away with the Commandments that the Lord had given through Moses; rather, he wanted to bring them to fulfilment. He then added that this “fulfilment” of the Law requires a higher kind justice, a more authentic observance. In fact, he says to his disciples: “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:20).

But what does this “fulfilment” of the Law mean? What is this superior justice? Jesus himself answers this question with a few examples. Jesus was practical and he always used examples to make himself understood, comparing the old Law with his teachings. He begins with the fifth of the Ten Commandments: “You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘You shalt not kill’ ... But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to council” (v. 21-22). In this way, Jesus reminds us that words can kill! When we say that a person has the tongue of a snake, what does that mean? That their words kill! Not only is it wrong to take the life of another, but it is also wrong to bestow the poison of anger upon him, strike him with slander, and speak ill of him.

This brings us to gossip: gossip can also kill, because it kills the reputation of the person! It is so terrible to gossip! At first it may seem like a nice thing, even amusing, like enjoying a candy. But in the end, it fills the heart with bitterness, and even poisons us. What I am telling you is true, I am convinced that if each one of us decided to avoid gossiping, we would eventually become holy! What a beautiful path that is! Do we want to become holy? Yes or no? [The people: Yes!] Do we want to be attached to the habit of gossip? Yes or no? [The people: No!] So we agree then: no gossiping! Jesus offers the perfection of love to those who follow him: love is the only measure that has no measure, to move past judgements.

Love of neighbour is a fundamental attitude that Jesus speaks of, and he says that our relationship with God cannot be honest if we are not willing to make peace with our neighbour. He says: “So if you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift” (v. 23-24). Therefore we are called to reconcile with our neighbour before showing our devotion to the Lord in prayer.

In all of this we see that Jesus does not give importance simply to disciplinary compliance and exterior conduct. He goes to the Law’s roots focusing, first and foremost, on the intention and the human heart, from which our good and bad actions originate. To obtain good and honest conduct, legal rules are not enough. We need a deep motivation, an expression of a hidden wisdom, God’s wisdom, which can be received through the Holy Spirit. Through faith in Christ, we can open ourselves to the action of the Spirit which enable us to experience divine love.

In the light of Christ’s teaching, every precept reveals its full meaning as a requirement of love, and they all come together in the greatest commandment: to love God with all of your heart and to love your neighbour as yourself.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 16 February 2014]

(Mt 5:13-16)

«Beautiful Works» [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of disinterest, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v.16) indicates our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv.1-12).

We each have an irreplaceable role in the moments of equilibrium break and Exodus.

We are legitimized unconditionally.

God has respect for the shortcomings and the functions that are lacking: who knows what blissful novelties they hide and are preparing.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but all personal. Their «salt» fights the insignificant of fatuous hopes.

And sons look far away, but they are with the "pasta"... remaining a living call: between God and man [who is himself even in fraternity] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, «Light» is what does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

The Israelites considered themselves «Light of the world» for their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

For Jesus, the faithful and the Community are «Light» because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

The disciple and the Assembly are «Salt» because they appear in the world under any circumstance as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin «sapĕre», to have flavour].

We are called to be a sign of a new Pact, because the unexpected Relation of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

To the ancient needs of purification Christ replaces those of full fraternity, which in the enhancement of each person gives taste and (precisely) flavor, and becomes a lamp to our steps.

This "second Pact" does not crush the believing people. Sign of a Father who recovers and infuses orientations to the individual path and to the Churches - not from the outside, but from our roots and as a leaven.

We become a living Beauty thanks to an activity that is imperfect but that has its influence on flowering, from within.

Thus preserving people from the unraveling of dehumanization and corruption - like «salt» with food.

«Salt and Light» are every little divine element that has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Our little candles can continue to thin out the darkness, but only until we put them under a «bushel» (v.15), that is, under a pedissee «measure» - wich is not the different, propulsive and always unprecedent one of the Beatitudes.

In Christ we are led to an evolutionary leap: we are Sapidity though minute of things, and limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a realm of personal Taste and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure is configured as a New Alliance between soul, reality, global and local world, ‘signs of time’ and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

[Tuesday 10th wk. in O.T.  June 9, 2026]

Fullness of small and beautiful works, not petty and childish

(Mt 5:13-16)

"Beautiful works" [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of selflessness, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, and cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v. 16) indicates - beyond abilities and circumstances - our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

The theme of the passage is that of fidelity which integrates and overcomes inconstancy - and the need to seal love with risk, which makes us authentic [last Beatitude: vv.10-12].

The Lord has surprising trust, because his plan is to become the flavour and fundamental orientation of human history - not only 'in favour of all', but for each one (even those considered insignificant).

Of course, only Jesus is the liturgical Amen: icon of fulfilled humanity, consistency of dedication, the Yes and the definitiveness of the Promises.

But his story has always been contrary to the prevailing mentality.

Therefore, even we - perhaps "seen" as inadequate - can embody a path where the Gospel arises not only as something common, and therefore "halfway", but as something unique and definitive.

We each have an irreplaceable role in moments of disruption and Exodus.

We are legitimised without conditions.

God has respect for shortcomings and missing functions: who knows what blessed new things they hide and are preparing.

In his commentary on the Tao (ii), Master Ho-shang Kung states:

"The original chi gives life to all creatures and does not appropriate it," that is, it does not return, it does not confer the old, backward and fixed order. It does not run for cover; rather, it gives a charge - not partial, but vital and illuminating.

Of course, it is precisely in consumer goods that constant change lies: this confuses the conventional religious idea.

But the fact that our Vocation is to be and become ever more a Source of Life like the Father, and signs of the Covenant between Heaven and earth (with equal dignity to the Son), values every little divine element in us, or that we promote in our brothers and sisters.

We cannot escape our essence, and we do so with passion - not out of a rigid determination to 'be' 'salt' and 'light' according to opinion.

Thus, instead of yearning to return to functioning like everyone else or as before, we will begin to respect our own and others' retreats of the soul.

In its pauses and questions of meaning, it is nurturing the future of the Kingdom.

In Jesus' time, flames were obtained from fats: blowing out a lamp meant filling the house with nauseating miasmas. 

This is what happens in a voluntaristic and inattentive Church, when there is an excess of dirigisme that does not respect the unique dignity of vocation, which is replaced by manners.

Every blade of grass makes its own distinct contribution to making the field green; this does not make it feel constrained - nor can it be extinguished or reduced by a pretentious and ostentatious context that would risk altering it.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but it is entirely personal: it would be futile to attenuate their aroma by adding ordinary cream, which sweetens various dishes (but makes them all taste the same). Or cotton candy, more suited to festivals of castagnole, castanets and firecrackers, and variety shows.

Their 'salt' combats the insignificance of vain hopes or those of others (bechamel sauce of appearances). It introduces an internal and savoury wisdom into the world of side dishes, salads, carousels and insipidities.

Children look far away, but they stay with the 'pasta'... remaining a living reminder: between God and man [who is himself even in brotherhood] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, 'Light' is that which does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

This means that, without too many compliments, spiritual discernment must be torn from the clutches of those who, out of quietism and a desire not to cause trouble for those complacent with power, mitigate and adapt, indeed hide the Gospel - turning it into a lullaby.

The parallel passage in Luke 11:33 gives thought to the reception of pagans: to make 'light' for those who enter the House.

Matthew is primarily concerned with those who already dwell there: whose specific weight and life of relationships based on the conviviality of differences must become Light in itself - to allow everyone to understand the difference between the seeds of death and the tracks of complete Life.

The Israelites considered themselves the 'Light of the world' because of their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

A great Roman parish priest told me that one of the things that struck him on his travels in the USA was seeing too many Catholic citadels on top of hills, clearly visible to the eye but equally clearly equipped with everything - therefore detached, able to provide for themselves, closed to confrontation with today's real urban life.

This is diametrically opposed to the approach of many evangelical communities, which are less ostentatious and do not seek to attract people with their external beauty. They are mixed into the fabric of the city, and for this reason they are able to shed light on the daily lives of people seeking a personal and real relationship with God the Father.

For Jesus, the faithful and the community are 'Light' because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

He remains the slain Lamb who becomes food for all, and does not give the impression of magnificence or clamour; he does not shut himself up in fortresses, nor does he terrify.

The disciple and the Assembly are 'Salt' because they appear in the world in all circumstances as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin sapĕre, to have taste].

We are called to make ourselves a sign of a new Covenant, because the unexpected Relationship of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

Christ replaces the ancient demands for purification with those of full brotherhood, which, in valuing every person, gives taste and (precisely) flavour, and becomes a lamp for our steps.

This 'second Covenant' does not crush the believing people. 

The inclination to unravel our own evolution, becoming protagonists in the Name of the New Agreement, will transmit illumination and fragrance to the journey.

In this way, we will allow ourselves to be shaped, yielding to our Core that wants to grow, express itself, and give space to the sides that are still in shadow.

These are signs of a Father who recovers and infuses direction into the individual path and that of the Churches - not from outside, but starting from our roots and like a leaven.

We become living Beauty thanks to an activity that, though imperfect, has an influence on flowering from within.

In this way, we preserve people from the decay of dehumanisation and corruption - like 'salt' with food.

In fact, if not properly understood thanks to the qualitative leap of Faith-love, even religious sense can channel women and men into a thousand streams of cunning...

Towards a decomposition of wisdom, and hasty, disembodied, insipid schematics - as well as, unfortunately, indistinct fog.

'Salt and Light' are every little divine element already within us. Thus, any effort towards beauty, solidity and variety will not be lost - even if reduced and diminished: it has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Of course, even in traditional religion, the value of small things is not denied, but they remain small and fixed - without leaps.

In a climate where 'Ne quid nimis' [nothing excessive] prevails, the basic conditions all seem designed to confirm the system of things and roles.

The cloak of customs weakens the peaks, relegates the personalities of simple people to narrow, insignificant spheres, which urge them to invest their energy in vacuous, childish aspects.

The idiocy of certain details is always there, stifling evolution.

In Fede's experience, we do not despise even the slightest contribution to the construction of an alternative kingdom to the current one - sometimes unifying, but based on nonsense and catwalks in obvious disrepair, and stench.

Our candles can continue to dispel the darkness, but only until we place them under a 'bushel' (v. 15), that is, until we give up, putting them under a slavish 'measure' - which is not the different, propulsive and always new measure of the Beatitudes.

In Christ, we are guided to an evolutionary leap: we are the Sapidità pur minuta delle cose (the tiny Sapidità of things), and we are limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited, nor small and 'baby'.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a kingdom of personal Flavour and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure takes the form of a New Covenant between the soul, reality, the global and local world, the signs of the times and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

The salt gone mad of religion without Faith: treating ourselves as sick people

(Mt 5:13)

One of the possible translations from Greek of the expression in verse 13 [perhaps the most plausible] is: 'if the salt goes mad'.

Why does it go mad? It refers to personal harmony with the divine Covenant that dwells within us and to which we do not want to give space, even though it would be truly fulfilling.

All this because we are accustomed to living and feeding on external attitudes.

The Covenant would like to guide our little boat even in this time of departure from the tragedies that are blocking the world, but this is made difficult by the recitation of scripts - by what 'must be done' according to previous ideas and routine.

This is the same expression in Matthew 5:13 of the 'foolish' man (Matthew 7:26) who builds his house not on the Rock [of Freedom, which coincides with his Calling].

He also 'builds' impressive realities, but on unstable elements that are sometimes fragile, lacking in substance - therefore without a solid foundation. Rather, they are the reflection of handed-down thoughts, or of calculation and fantasy; excessively sophisticated.This is also the age-old disconnect between ritual devotion and concrete life, which the Christian community unfortunately sometimes demonstrates in the face of a world that expects answers to needs that touch it and urgent hopes (not those of a 'flock' that we do not like at all).

Instead, here and there, there is a desire to rebuild everything as it 'should be' and as it was before... In this way, we would continue carefree in pursuit of things that are now useless, neglecting the new reality and the essence of character.

Embryonic and genuine inclinations that would like to give weight to hidden resources, embedded in our cosmic being as creatures and in our most fragrant personal tendencies.

Internal powers that unblock situations.

The behaviour of those who have become accustomed to listening - and yearn not to celebrate the Presence of the Lord and live their faith intensely, but to return to 'mass' and to the old containers - should not be so blatantly empty, duplicitous, formal and disinterested; so openly contradictory to the authentic Call, which the believer himself emphatically proclaims to believe in.

There is a Mystery to follow, which is leading to a different kind of uniqueness. And it wants to draw alternative life - truly our own - precisely from the wounds inflicted.

Nothing to be done: the underlying lacerations remain firmly in place - those caused by those who would like to engage in critical witness, but do not rise again in unique opportunities... and find themselves constantly prey to constructed ideas, instead of being inspired (and in their intelligent energy).

In the expression 'salt going mad', the author evokes a sort of radical inner division, characteristic of the personal soul and the unknown Elsewhere that we would finally be called upon to welcome, instead of opposing.

The Secret that lurks in the present, in fact, can end up being trampled by external factors, such as institutional expectations, which leave no room for the revolution of habits and goals.

One example among many is the precious tradition of building a prayer corner in every home.

Even in our spiritual life, we often want to be like the devout models we have in mind, or stronger (perhaps to resemble our guides).

These are thoughts that neither convince nor inspire the heart. In reality, they become vocational blocks, inhibiting the primordial virtue that belongs to us - if convincing, it would move us further.

Christ calls us to acknowledge our unfettered uniqueness and unpredictable eccentricity - the only factor for recovery.

Exceptionality that for Him is not a disturbance, but an authentic resource.

We do not know how He will guide us or where He will lead us; what new eras (which will open up Other things, and we do not know what) He will allow us to enjoy as we proceed in the adventure of the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

This is the profound experimental difference between religiosity and Faith.

The latter corresponds to us because it is lovable in its intimacy. It does not take a pessimistic view of the tide of life.

It focuses on the innate perfection of our ways of being, however singular and unexpected.

In short:

We are not people who need to be cured. In terms of vocation, each of us is already mysteriously gifted and perfect.

By seriously entrusting ourselves to the Call by Name instead of to identifications that plagiarise and leave us brooding in vain, we will reach the fullness of being.

The golden age will coincide with the time of experiences that make us feel completely alive.

Even moments of emptiness will serve to regenerate us and shift our perspective. We will realise that nothing is missing.

Instead, by entrusting our lives to the narrow-minded idea of perfection and old situations to be regained, multiplying resolutions with expectations that do not concern us, we will only succeed in shattering ourselves.

In this way, we will never feel satisfied with the growth of the sense of immensity in our being and particular development.

The great Models (which ultimately betray us) force us to criticise and chase after things, treating ourselves as if we were sick, full of inner turmoil and mental torment.

It is the madness of the obvious, which through conformist quietude or a crazy expenditure of energy promises to take possession of who knows what, but does not make the germinal leap of the life of Faith.

Spousal trust and a creative gesture that wants to welcome everything: states of unease, aspects in the shadows, rising tides - and expand Happiness.

Lumen Fidei

1. The light of faith: with this expression, the tradition of the Church has indicated the great gift brought by Jesus, who, in the Gospel of John, presents himself thus: 'I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness' (Jn 12:46). St. Paul also expresses it in these terms: "And God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts" (2 Cor 4:6). In the pagan world, hungry for light, the cult of the sun god, Sol invictus, invoked at sunrise, had developed. Even though the sun rose every day, it was well understood that it was incapable of radiating its light over the whole of human existence. The sun, in fact, does not illuminate all of reality; its rays are incapable of reaching the shadow of death, where the human eye is closed to its light. "Because of their faith in the sun," says St Justin Martyr, "no one has ever been seen ready to die." Aware of the great horizon that faith opened up for them, Christians called Christ the true sun, "whose rays give life." To Martha, who weeps for the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus says, "Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40). Those who believe see; they see with a light that illuminates the entire path, because it comes to us from the risen Christ, the morning star that never sets.

An illusory light?

2. Yet, when we speak of this light of faith, we can hear the objection of many of our contemporaries. In modern times, it was thought that such a light might have been sufficient for ancient societies, but that it was no longer needed in the new era, for a man who had become adult, proud of his reason, eager to explore the future in a new way. In this sense, faith appeared to be an illusory light, preventing man from cultivating the audacity of knowledge. The young Nietzsche invited his sister Elisabeth to take risks, to follow 'new paths... in the uncertainty of independent progress'. He added: 'At this point, the paths of humanity diverge: if you want to achieve peace of mind and happiness, have faith, but if you want to be a disciple of truth, then investigate'. Believing would be opposed to seeking. From this point onwards, Nietzsche developed his critique of Christianity for diminishing the significance of human existence, robbing life of novelty and adventure. Faith would then be like an illusion of light that prevents us from walking freely towards tomorrow.

3. In this process, faith ended up being associated with darkness. It was thought that it could be preserved, that a space could be found for it to coexist with the light of reason. The space for faith opened up where reason could not illuminate, where man could no longer have certainties. Faith was then understood as a leap into the void that we take because of a lack of light, driven by blind sentiment; or as a subjective light, perhaps capable of warming the heart and bringing private consolation, but which cannot be offered to others as an objective and common light to illuminate the path. Little by little, however, it became clear that the light of autonomous reason cannot sufficiently illuminate the future; in the end, it remains in darkness and leaves man in fear of the unknown. And so man gave up the search for a great light, for a great truth, contenting himself with small lights that illuminate the brief moment but are incapable of lighting the way. When light is lacking, everything becomes confused; it is impossible to distinguish good from evil, the road that leads to the goal from the one that makes us walk in repetitive circles, without direction.

A light to be rediscovered

4. It is therefore urgent to recover the light-giving character of faith, because when its flame is extinguished, all other lights lose their power. The light of faith has a unique character, being capable of illuminating the whole of human existence. For a light to be so powerful, it cannot come from ourselves; it must come from a more original source; it must come, ultimately, from God. Faith is born in an encounter with the living God, who calls us and reveals his love to us, a love that precedes us and on which we can rely to be steadfast and build our lives. Transformed by this love, we receive new eyes, we experience that there is a great promise of fulfilment in it, and the future opens up before us. Faith, which we receive from God as a supernatural gift, appears as a light for our path, a light that guides our journey through time. On the one hand, it comes from the past; it is the light of a fundamental memory, that of the life of Jesus, where his love was revealed as completely trustworthy, capable of conquering death. At the same time, however, since Christ is risen and draws us beyond death, faith is light that comes from the future, opening up great horizons before us and leading us beyond our isolated 'I' towards the vastness of communion. We understand, then, that faith does not dwell in darkness; that it is a light for our darkness. Dante, in the Divine Comedy, after confessing his faith before St Peter, describes it as a "spark, / which expands into a lively flame / and like a star in the sky, it sparkles within me". It is precisely this light of faith that I would like to talk about, so that it may grow to illuminate the present and become a star that shows us the horizons of our journey, at a time when humanity is particularly in need of light.

(Lumen Fidei)

In all churches, in cathedrals and religious houses, wherever the faithful gather to celebrate the Easter Vigil, that holiest of all nights begins with the lighting of the Paschal candle, whose light is then passed on to all who are present. One tiny flame spreads out to become many lights and fills the darkness of God’s house with its brightness. This wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in our prayer vigil tonight, reveals to us in signs more eloquent than words the mystery of our Christian faith. He, Christ, who says of himself: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), causes our lives to shine brightly, so that what we have just heard in the Gospel comes true: “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our era that brings light into this world. Again and again we experience how our striving to bring about a better and more just world hits against its limits. Innocent suffering and the ultimate fact of death awaiting every single person are an impenetrable darkness which may perhaps, through fresh experiences, be lit up for a moment, as if through a flash of lightning at night. In the end, though, a frightening darkness remains.

While all around us there may be darkness and gloom, yet we see a light: a small, tiny flame that is stronger than the seemingly powerful and invincible darkness. Christ, risen from the dead, shines in this world and he does so most brightly in those places where, in human terms, everything is sombre and hopeless. He has conquered death – he is alive – and faith in him, like a small light, cuts through all that is dark and threatening. To be sure, those who believe in Jesus do not lead lives of perpetual sunshine, as though they could be spared suffering and hardship, but there is always a bright glimmer there, lighting up the path that leads to fullness of life (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see light even amid the darkest night and they already see the dawning of a new day.

Light does not remain alone. All around, other lights are flaring up. In their gleam, space acquires contours, so that we can find our bearings. We do not live alone in this world. And it is for the important things of life that we have to rely on other people. Particularly in our faith, then, we do not stand alone, we are links in the great chain of believers. Nobody can believe unless he is supported by the faith of others, and conversely, through my faith, I help to strengthen others in their faith. We help one another to set an example, we give others a share in what is ours: our thoughts, our deeds, our affections. And we help one another to find our bearings, to work out where we stand in society.

Dear friends, the Lord says: “I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world.” It is mysterious and wonderful that Jesus applies the same predicate to himself and to all of us together, namely “light”. If we believe that he is the Son of God, who healed the sick and raised the dead, who rose from the grave himself and is truly alive, then we can understand that he is the light, the source of all the lights of this world. On the other hand, we experience more and more the failure of our efforts and our personal shortcomings, despite our good intentions. In the final analysis, the world in which we live, in spite of its technical progress, does not seem to be getting any better. There is still war and terror, hunger and disease, bitter poverty and merciless oppression. And even those figures in our history who saw themselves as “bringers of light”, but without being fired by Christ, the one true light, did not manage to create an earthly paradise, but set up dictatorships and totalitarian systems, in which even the smallest spark of true humanity is choked.

At this point we cannot remain silent about the existence of evil. We see it in so many places in this world; but we also see it – and this scares us – in our own lives. Truly, within our hearts there is a tendency towards evil, there is selfishness, envy, aggression. Perhaps with a certain self-discipline all this can to some degree be controlled. But it becomes more difficult with faults that are somewhat hidden, that can engulf us like a thick fog, such as sloth, or laziness in willing and doing good. Again and again in history, keen observers have pointed out that damage to the Church comes not from her opponents, but from uncommitted Christians. “You are the light of the world”: only Christ can say: “I am the light of the world.”  All of us can be light only if we stand within the “you” that, through the Lord, is forever becoming light.  And just as the Lord warns us that salt can become tasteless, so too he weaves a gentle warning into his saying about light.  Instead of placing the light on a lampstand, one can hide it under a bushel.  Let us ask ourselves: how often do we hide God’s light through our sloth, through our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine out through us into the world?

Dear friends, Saint Paul in many of his letters does not shrink from calling his contemporaries, members of the local communities, “saints”. Here it becomes clear that every baptized person – even before he or she can accomplish good works – is sanctified by God. In baptism the Lord, as it were, sets our life alight with what the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who watch over this light, who live by grace, are holy.

Dear friends, again and again the very notion of saints has been caricatured and distorted, as if to be holy meant to be remote from the world, naive and joyless. Often it is thought that a saint has to be someone with great ascetic and moral achievements, who might well be revered, but could never be imitated in our own lives. How false and discouraging this opinion is! There is no saint, apart from the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin, who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how often in our lives we stumble and fall, as in how often with his help we pick ourselves up again. He does not demand glittering achievements, but he wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because he is good and he wants to make you his friends. Yes, you are the light of the world because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things, but because he, Christ, is your life, our life. You are holy, we are holy, if we allow his grace to work in us.

Dear friends, this evening as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ’s saying that the city built on a hilltop cannot remain hidden. This gathering shines in more ways than one – in the glow of innumerable lights, in the radiance of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it lets itself be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax failed to nourish the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and, so to speak, emerge empty-handed at the end. Have the courage to apply your talents and gifts for God’s kingdom and to give yourselves – like candlewax – so that the Lord can light up the darkness through you. Dare to be glowing saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ beams and who thus bring light to the world. I am confident that you and many other young people here in Germany are lamps of hope that do not remain hidden. “You are the light of the world”. Where God is, there is a future! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, vigil in Freiburg, 24 September 2011]