Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe [23 November 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. We close the liturgical year C with grateful hearts as we prepare to resume our journey with Advent.

*First Reading from the Second Book of Samuel (5:1-3)

These are the first steps of the monarchy in Israel. It all begins in Hebron, an ancient city in the mountains of Judea, where the patriarchs of Israel rest: Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah, and even Joseph, whose bones were brought back from Egypt. It is a place steeped in memory and faith, and it is here that David becomes king of all the twelve tribes of Israel. After the death of Moses, around 1200 BC, the people of Israel settled in Palestine. The tribes lived independently, united only by the memory of their liberation from Egypt and their faith in their one God. In times of danger, God raised up temporary leaders, the Judges, who guided the people and often also acted as prophets. One of these was Samuel, a great man of God. Over time, however, the Israelites wanted to be 'like other peoples' and asked Samuel for a king. The prophet was troubled by this, because Israel was to recognise only God as King, but in the end, on God's command, he consecrated Saul, the first king of Israel. After a promising start, Saul fell into disobedience and madness, and God chose another man: David, the young shepherd from Bethlehem, on whom Samuel poured the oil of anointing. David did not immediately take power: he served Saul faithfully, became his musician and valiant warrior, loved by the people and bound by deep friendship to Jonathan, Saul's son. But the king's jealousy turned to hatred, and David was forced to flee, while always refusing to raise his hand against 'the Lord's anointed'. After Saul's death, Israel was divided: David reigned in Hebron over the tribe of Judah, while in the north, one of Saul's sons reigned for a short time. When the latter was killed, the northern tribes gathered at Hebron and recognised David as their king. On that day, the united kingdom of Israel was born: twelve tribes under one shepherd, chosen by God and recognised by his brothers. The anointing with sacred oil made David the 'Messiah', that is, the 'anointed one of the Lord'. He was to be a king after God's own heart, a shepherd who would lead his people towards unity and peace. But history showed how difficult it was to realise this ideal. Nevertheless, hope did not die: Israel always waited for the true Messiah, the descendant of David who would establish an eternal kingdom. And a thousand years later, Jesus Christ, called "Son of David," presented himself as the Good Shepherd, the one who offers his life for his flock. Every Sunday, in the Eucharist, he renews his covenant and tells us: "You are of my own blood."

*Responsorial Psalm (121/122:1-2, 3-4, 5-6a, 7a)

"What joy when they said to me, 'We will go to the house of the Lord'." A pilgrim recounts his emotion: after a long journey, his feet finally stop at the gates of Jerusalem. We are in the time of the return from Babylonian exile: the city has been rebuilt, the Temple restored (around 515 BC), and the people find in the house of the Lord the living sign of the Covenant. Before the resurrected city, the pilgrim exclaims: Jerusalem, here you are within your walls, a compact city, where everything together forms one body! Jerusalem is not only a geographical location: it is the heart of God's people, a symbol of unity and communion. Every stone, every wall reminds us that Israel is a people gathered together by a single promise and a common destiny. God himself wanted Israel to make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem, so that the common journey and shared effort would keep the bond of the Covenant alive. This is why the Psalm proclaims: "There the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord... to praise the name of the Lord." The verb "to go up" indicates both the elevated position of the city and the spiritual ascent of the people towards their liberating God, the same God who brought them up, that is, out of Egypt. The phrase 'the tribes of the Lord' recalls the mutual belonging of the Covenant: 'You shall be my people, and I will be your God.' The pilgrimage, made on foot, amid fatigue, thirst and songs, is a journey of faith and fraternity. When the pilgrim exclaims, 'Now our journey is over!', he expresses the joy of one who has reached not only a geographical destination but also a spiritual one: the encounter with God in the city of his presence. Giving thanks to the Lord is Israel's vocation. Until the whole world recognises God, Israel is called to be the people of thanksgiving in the world, witnesses to divine faithfulness. Thus, every pilgrimage to Jerusalem renews Israel's mission: to give thanks, to praise and to show the way to other nations. The prophet Isaiah had foretold this universal plan: "At the end of days, the mountain of the Lord's temple will be firm on the top of the mountains, and all nations will flock to it... From Zion will go forth the law, and from Jerusalem the word of the Lord." (Is 2:2-3) Jerusalem then becomes a prophetic sign of the renewed world, where all peoples will be united in the same praise and the same peace. The Psalm recalls again: "There the thrones of judgement are set, the thrones of the house of David." With these words, Israel recalls the promise made by God to David through the prophet Nathan: "I will raise up a king from your descendants, and I will make his kingdom firm." (2 Sam 7:12). After the exile, there is no longer a king on the throne, but the promise remains alive: God does not go back on his word. In the celebrations at the Temple, this memory becomes prayer and hope: the day will come when God will raise up a king after his own heart, just and faithful, who will restore peace and justice. The very name Jerusalem means "city of peace." When we pray, "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; may those who love you be secure" (Ps 122:6), we are not simply expressing a wish, but a profession of faith: only God can give true peace, and Israel is called to be a witness to this in the world. With the passing of the centuries, the hope for a righteous king is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, the Son of David. It is He who inaugurates the Kingdom of life and truth, of grace and holiness, of justice, love and peace, as proclaimed in the liturgy of the feast of Christ the King. In Him, the earthly Jerusalem becomes the new Jerusalem, the city of the definitive encounter between God and man. Every Eucharist is an ascent towards that city, a pilgrimage of the soul that ends in the heart of God. Israel's pilgrimage to Jerusalem then becomes a symbol of the journey of all humanity towards communion with God. And like the pilgrims of the Psalm, we too, the Church of the New Testament, can say with joy: "What joy when they said to me, 'We will go to the house of the Lord'."

*Second Reading from the letter of St. Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (1:12-20)

The invisible face of God. Once upon a time, there was a world that sought God but did not know how to see him. People looked up to the sky, built temples, offered sacrifices, but God remained invisible, distant. Then, one day, the Word became flesh: the God whom no one had ever seen took on a human face, and that face was that of Jesus of Nazareth. Since then, every time a man looks at Jesus, he looks at God. St Paul said it with words that sound like a song: "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation." In Him, everything that exists finds its origin and meaning. He is not only the beginning of the world, but also its heart: in Him everything was created, and in Him everything was reconciled. This plan of God did not come about yesterday, and Paul speaks of a design that has always been in place: 'He has delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the Kingdom of the Son of his love.' God has always dreamed of a free, luminous human being, capable of communion. But what God had prepared in eternity was realised in time, in the present of Christ. This is why Paul writes: "In Him we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." The mystery of Jesus is not a memory; it is a living reality that continues to work in the hearts of believers every day. God had made man "in His own image and likeness." But that image, in sin, had become clouded. So God Himself came to show us what it means to be human. In Jesus, man is restored to his original beauty. When Pilate shows him to the crowd and says, 'Behold the man!', he does not know that he is uttering a prophecy: in that wounded face, in that humble silence, the true man is revealed, as God had intended him to be. But in that face there is also the face of God. Jesus is the visibility of the invisible. He is God who allows himself to be seen, touched, heard. "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father," he will say to Philip. And Paul will add: "In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." In Jesus, God and man meet forever. The infinite has taken flesh, heaven has become flesh. This is the mystery of the Cross. But how can the Cross be a sign of peace and reconciliation? Paul explains it this way: "God wanted to reconcile all things to himself, making peace through the blood of his cross." It is not God who wants the suffering of his Son. It is the hatred of men that kills him. Yet God transforms that hatred into redeeming love. It is the great reversal of history: violence becomes forgiveness, death becomes life, the cross becomes a tree of peace. We have seen men in history who have witnessed to peace and been killed for it — Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Itzhak Rabin, Sadat... — but only Christ, being both man and God, was able to transform evil into grace for the whole world. In his forgiveness of his crucifiers — “Father, forgive them” — God’s own forgiveness is revealed. From that day on, we know that no sin is greater than God’s love. On the cross, everything is accomplished. Paul writes: “God wanted all fullness to dwell in him, and through him to reconcile everything.” Creation finally finds its unity, its peace. The first to enter this Kingdom is the repentant thief: "Today you will be with me in paradise." And from then on, every person who opens themselves to forgiveness enters into that same light. The Eucharist is the heart of the mystery. Faced with such a gift, there is only one possible response: to give thanks. This is why Paul invites us: "Give thanks to God the Father, who has made you capable of sharing in the lot of the saints in the light." The Eucharist — in Greek, eucharistia means precisely "giving thanks" — is the place where the Church relives this mystery. Every Mass is a living memory of this reconciliation: God gives himself, the world is renewed, man finds himself again. It is there that everything is recomposed: the visible and the invisible, earth and heaven, man and God. And so, in the history of the world, a face has revealed the invisible. A pierced heart has brought peace. A broken loaf continues to make present the fullness of love. And every time the Church gathers for the Eucharist, Paul's song is renewed as a cosmic praise: Christ is the image of the invisible God, the first and the last, the one who reconciles the world with the Father, the one in whom everything subsists. In Him, everything finds meaning. In Him, everything is grace. In Him, the invisible God finally has a face: Jesus Christ, Lord of heaven and earth.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (23:35-43)

The logic of men and the logic of God. Three times, at the foot of the cross, the same provocation is repeated to Jesus: "If you are..." — "If you are the Messiah," the religious leaders mock; 'If you are the King of the Jews', sneer the Roman soldiers; 'If you are the Messiah', insults one of the criminals crucified with him. Each speaks from his own point of view: the leaders of Israel expect a powerful Messiah, but before them is a defeated and crucified man; the soldiers, men of earthly power, laugh at a defenceless 'king'; the criminal, on the other hand, awaits a saviour who will free him from death. These three voices recall the three temptations in the desert (Lk 4): even then, the tempter repeated, 'If you are the Son of God...'. Temptations of power, dominion and miracles. Jesus responded each time with the Word: 'It is written: man does not live on bread alone...' 'You shall worship the Lord your God and him alone shall you serve...' 'You shall not tempt the Lord your God'. Scripture was his strength to remain faithful to the mission of the poor and obedient Messiah. On the cross, however, Jesus is silent. He no longer responds to provocations. Yet he knows well who he is: the Messiah, the Saviour. But not according to the logic of men, who would like a God capable of saving himself, of dominating, of winning by force. Jesus dies precisely because he does not correspond to this human logic. His logic is that of God: to save by giving himself, without imposing himself. His silence is not empty, but full of trust. His very name, Jesus, means 'God saves'. He awaits his redemption from God alone, not from himself. The temptations are overcome forever: he remains faithful, totally surrendered into the hands of men, but trusting in the Father. Amidst the insults, two words encapsulate the mystery of the Cross. The first: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The second, addressed to the "good thief": "Today you will be with me in Paradise." Forgiveness and salvation: two gestures that are both divine and human. In Jesus, God himself forgives and reconciles humanity. The repentant thief — who turns to him and says, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom" — is the first to understand who Christ truly is. He does not ask to come down from the cross, but to be welcomed. In that plea of humility and trust, the "remember" becomes the prayer that opens Paradise. Where Adam, in the Garden of Eden, had succumbed to the temptation to "be like God," Jesus, the new Adam, wins by waiting for everything from God. Adam had wanted to decide his own greatness and had been cast out of Paradise; Jesus, on the other hand, by accepting to be the Son in total abandonment, reopens Paradise to humanity. In the story of the Passion, two logics intersect: that of men, who seek a powerful God, and that of God, who saves through love and weakness. Jesus rejects the temptation to demonstrate his strength; instead, he chooses to trust the Father until the end. In his silence and forgiveness, divine power manifests itself as mercy. Beside him, the repentant thief becomes the first witness of the Kingdom: he recognises Christ as the true King, not of the powerful, but of the saved. Where Adam had closed the gates of Paradise, Jesus reopens them: 'Today you will be with me in Paradise' is God's definitive response to the logic of the world.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

XXXIII Sunday in Ordinary Time C [16 November 2025]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi (3:19-20a)

When Malachi wrote these words around 450 BC, the people were discouraged: faith seemed to be dying out, even among the priests of Jerusalem, who now celebrated worship in a superficial manner. Everyone asked themselves: 'What is God doing? Has he forgotten us? Life is unfair! The wicked succeed in everything, so what is the point of being the chosen people and observing the commandments? Where is God's justice?" The prophet then fulfils his task: to reawaken faith and inner energy. He rebukes priests and lay people, but above all he proclaims that God is just and that his plan of justice is advancing irresistibly. "Behold, the day of the Lord is coming": history is not a repeating cycle, but is moving towards fulfilment. For those who believe, this is a truth of faith: the day of the Lord is coming. Depending on the image that each person has of God, this coming can be frightening or arouse ardent expectation. But for those who recognise that God is Father, the day of the Lord is good news, a day of love and light. Malachi uses the image of the sun: "Behold, the day of the Lord is coming, burning like an oven." This is not a threat! At the beginning of the book, God says, "I love you" (Malachi 1:2) and "I am Father" (Malachi 1:6). The "furnace" is not punishment, but a symbol of God's burning love. Just as the disciples of Emmaus felt their hearts burning within them, so those who encounter God are enveloped in the warmth of his love. The 'sun of righteousness' is therefore a fire of love: on the day we encounter God, we will be immersed in this burning ocean of mercy. God cannot help but love, especially all that is poor, naked and defenceless. This is the very meaning of mercy: a heart that bends over misery. Malachi also speaks of judgement. The sun, in fact, can burn or heal: it is ambivalent. In the same way, the 'Sun of God' reveals everything, illuminating without leaving any shadows: no lie or hypocrisy can hide from its light. God's judgement is not destruction, but revelation and purification. The sun will 'burn' the arrogant and the wicked, but it will 'heal' those who fear his name. Arrogance and closed hearts will be consumed like straw; humility and faith will be transfigured. Pride and humility, selfishness and love coexist in each of us. God's judgement will take place within us: what is 'straw' will burn, what is 'good seed' will sprout in God's sun. It will be a process of inner purification, until the image and likeness of God shines within us. Malachi also uses two other images: that of the smelter, who purifies gold not to destroy it, but to make it shine in all its beauty; and that of the bleacher, who does not ruin the garment, but makes it shine. Thus, God's judgement is a work of light: everything that is love, service and mercy will be exalted; everything that is not love will disappear. In the end, only what reflects the face of God will remain. The historical context helps us to understand this text: Israel is experiencing a crisis of faith and hope after the exile; the priests are lukewarm and the people are disillusioned. The prophet's message: God is neither absent nor unjust. His 'day' will come: it is the moment when his justice and love will be fully manifested. The central image is the Sun of Justice, symbol of God's purifying love. Like the sun, divine love burns and heals, consumes evil and makes good flourish. In each of us, God does not condemn, but transforms everything into salvation by discerning what glorifies love and dissolves pride. Fire, the sun, the smelter and the bleacher indicate the purification that leads to the original beauty of man created in the image of God. Finally, there is nothing to fear: for those who believe, the day of the Lord reveals love. "The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings" (Malachi 3:20).

Responsorial Psalm (97/98:5-6, 7-8, 9)

This psalm transports us ideally to the end of time, when all creation, renewed, joyfully acclaims the coming of the Kingdom of God. The text speaks of the sea and its riches, the world and its inhabitants, the rivers and the mountains: all creation is involved. St Paul, in his Letter to the Ephesians (1:9-10), reminds us that this is God's eternal plan: 'to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, Christ'. God wants to reunite everything, to create full communion between the cosmos and creatures, to establish universal harmony. In the psalm, this harmony is already sung as accomplished: the sea roars, the rivers clap their hands, the mountains rejoice. It is God's dream, already announced by the prophet Isaiah (11:6-9): 'The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid... no one shall do evil or destruction on all my holy mountain'. But the reality is very different: man knows the dangers of the sea, conflicts with nature and with his fellow men. Creation is marked by struggle and disharmony. However, biblical faith knows that the day will come when the dream will become reality, because it is God's own plan. The role of prophets, such as Isaiah, is to revive the hope of this messianic Kingdom of justice and faithfulness. The Psalms also tirelessly repeat the reasons for this hope: Psalm 97(98) sings of the Kingdom of God as the restoration of order and universal peace. After so many unjust kings, a Kingdom of justice and righteousness is awaited. The people sing as if everything were already accomplished: "Sing hymns to the Lord who comes to judge the earth... and the peoples with righteousness." At the beginning of the psalm, the wonders of the past are recalled—the exodus from Egypt, God's faithfulness in the history of Israel—but now it is proclaimed that God is coming: his Kingdom is certain, even if not yet fully visible. The experience of the past becomes a guarantee of the future: God has already shown his faithfulness, and this allows the believer to joyfully anticipate the coming of the Kingdom. As Psalm 89(90) says: "A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday." And Saint Peter (2 Pt 3:8-9) reminds us that God does not delay his promise, but waits for the conversion of all. This psalm therefore echoes the promises of the prophet Malachi: "The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings" (Mal 3:20). The singers of this psalm are the poor of the Lord, those who await the coming of Christ as light and warmth. Once it was only Israel that sang: "Acclaim the Lord, all the earth, acclaim your king!" But in the last days, all creation will join in this song of victory, no longer just the chosen people. In Hebrew, the verb "to acclaim" evokes the cry of triumph of the victor on the battlefield ("teru'ah"). But in the new world, this cry will no longer be one of war, but of joy and salvation, because — as Isaiah says (51:8): "My righteousness shall endure forever, my salvation from generation to generation." Jesus teaches us to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," which is the fulfilment of God's eternal dream: universal reconciliation and communion, in which all creation will sing in unison the justice and peace of its Lord.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians (3:7-12)

Saint Paul writes: "If anyone does not want to work, let him not eat" (2 Thessalonians 3:10). Today, this phrase cannot be repeated literally, because it does not refer to the unemployed of good will of our time, but to a completely different situation. Paul is not talking about those who cannot work, but those who do not want to work, taking advantage of the expectation of the imminent coming of the Lord to live in idleness. In Paul's world, there was no shortage of work. When he arrived in Corinth, he easily found employment with Priscilla and Aquila, who were in the same trade as him: tentmakers (Acts 18:1-3). His manual labour, weaving goat hair cloth, a skill he had learned in Tarsus in Cilicia, was tiring and not very profitable, but it allowed him not to be a burden to anyone: 'In toil and hardship, night and day we worked so as not to be a burden to anyone' (2 Thessalonians 3:8). This continuous work, supported also by the financial help of the Philippians, became for Paul a living testimony against the idleness of those who, convinced of the imminent return of Christ, had abandoned all commitment. His phrase 'if anyone does not want to work, let him not eat' is not a personal invention, but a common rabbinical saying, an expression of ancient wisdom that combined faith and concrete responsibility. The first reason Paul gives is respect for others: not taking advantage of the community, not living at the expense of others. Faith in the coming of the Kingdom must not become a pretext for passivity. On the contrary, waiting for the Kingdom translates into active and supportive commitment: Christians collaborate in the construction of the new world with their own hands, their own intelligence, their own dedication. Paul implicitly recalls the mandate of Genesis: 'Subdue the earth and subjugate it' (Gen 1:28), which does not mean exploiting it, but taking part in God's plan, transforming the earth into a place of justice and love, a foretaste of his Kingdom. The Kingdom is not born outside the world, but grows within history, through the collaboration of human beings. As Father Aimé Duval sings: "Your heaven will be made on earth with your arms." And as Khalil Gibran writes in The Prophet: "When you work, you realise a part of the dream of the earth... Work is love made visible." In this perspective, every gesture of love, care and service, even if unpaid, is a participation in the building of the Kingdom of God. To work, to create, to serve, is to collaborate with the Creator. Saint Peter reminds us: “With the Lord, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day... He is not slow in keeping his promise, but he is patient, wanting everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:8-9). This means that the time of waiting is not empty, but a time entrusted to our responsibility. Every act of justice, every good work, every gesture of love hastens the coming of the Kingdom. Therefore, the text concludes, if we truly desire the Kingdom of God to come sooner, we have not a minute to lose. Here is a small spiritual summary: Idleness is not simply a lack of work, but a renunciation of collaboration with God. Work, in whatever form, is part of the divine dream: to make the earth a place of communion and justice. Waiting for the Kingdom does not mean escaping from the world, but committing ourselves to transforming it. Every gesture of love is a stone laid for the Kingdom to come. Those who work with a pure heart hasten the dawn of the 'Sun of Justice' promised by the prophets.

From the Gospel according to Luke (21:5-19)

'Not a hair of your head will be lost.' This is prophetic language, not literal. We see every day that hair is indeed lost! This shows that Jesus' words are not to be taken literally, but as symbolic language. Jesus, like the prophets before him, does not make predictions about the future: he preaches. He does not announce chronicles of events, but keys of faith to interpret history. His discourse on the end of the Temple should also be understood in this way: it is not a horoscope of the apocalypse, but a teaching on how to live the present with faith, especially when everything seems to be falling apart. The message is clear: 'Whatever happens... do not be afraid!' Jesus invites us not to base our lives on what is passing. The Temple of Jerusalem, restored by Herod and covered with gold, was splendid, but destined to collapse. Every earthly reality, even the most sacred or solid, is temporary. True stability does not lie in stones, but in God. Jesus does not offer details about the 'when' or 'how' of the Kingdom; he shifts the question: 'Be careful not to be deceived...'. We do not need to know the calendar of the future, but to live the present in faithfulness. Jesus warns his disciples: "Before all this, they will persecute you, they will drag you before kings and governors because of my Name." Luke, who writes after years of persecution, knows well how true this is: from Stephen to James, from Peter to Paul, to many others. But even in persecution, Jesus promises: "I will give you a word and wisdom that no one will be able to resist." This does not mean that Christians will be spared death — "they will kill some of you" — but that no violence can destroy what you are in God: "Not a hair of your head will be lost." It is a way of saying: your life is kept safe in the hands of the Father. Even through death, you remain alive in God's life. Jesus twice uses the expression "for my Name's sake." In Hebrew, "The Name" refers to God himself: to say "for the Name's sake" is to say "for God's sake." Thus Jesus reveals his own divinity: to suffer for his Name is to participate in the mystery of his love. In the Acts of the Apostles, Saint Luke shows Peter and John who, after being flogged, "went away rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering for the Name of Jesus" (Acts 5:41). It is the same certainty that Saint Paul expresses in his Letter to the Romans: "Neither death nor life, nor any creature can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus" (Rom 8:38-39). Catastrophes, wars, epidemics — all these "shocks" of the world — must not take away our peace. The true sign of believers is the serenity that comes from trust. In the turmoil of the world, the calmness of God's children is already a testimony. Jesus sums it up in one word: "Take courage: I have overcome the world!" (Jn 16:33). And here is a spiritual synthesis: Jesus does not promise a life without trials, but a salvation stronger than death. Not even a hair...' means that no part of you is forgotten by God. Persecution does not destroy, but purifies faith. Nothing can separate us from the love of God: our security is the risen Christ. To believe is to remain steadfast, even when everything trembles.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Weeping over the eternal city, with tears of a father, mother and son

(Lk 19:41-44)

We like to be in the wake of fashion or opportunism, but rejecting the Lord’s Call is a great responsibility.

We must recognize His Visit, in Presence, in the inspiration that emerges.

Scrutinizing the signs, seizing the moments of grace instead of closing stubbornly; and do not turn back.

All this changes life in root - guides to the heart of history [even in its breaking places].

Jesus wants to conquer the closed doors of every citadel; above all of the toughest bone: Jerusalem.

Sometimes the search for the divine and human tension are made vain, because of a world of the sacred that seems under the sign of a completely different ‘deity’.

In fact, the choice of an ideology of power feeds illusions - but leads to disaster the entire people.

By blurring the gaze, it doesn’t allow us to get rid of the most insidious idols, and distorts the path to the Shalôm.

Once, here are trenches, killings and destruction of the walls and houses by Nebuchadnezzar; then the Roman one of 70 which the text more directly alludes to.

But the gloomy prediction extends, and perhaps the image of the pile of ruins concerns us. Historical background, ecclesial and pastoral meditation.

Unfortunately we continue to condemn Jesus-Peace as a criminal to be expelled. Situation that drags problems.

Thus in filigree the Christ stands out in the position of King, who reluctantly pronounces a definitive sentence.

Where salvation is prepared, offered and re-proposed so intensely but in vain, rejection becomes certainly more painful - for us and for this passionate, moving Son.

Yet the class of the elect still chooses to fall and ruin, self-destructing their own people.

Rejecting the Messiah as a servant and ignoring even in time the work of Good of its authentic witnesses, the religious centre will continue to lose its special character of a saving sign.

Even today it’s time for the Master’s Visit, who knocks and asks for permission to enter, to open the seals of the great questions of history and life.

The warning is global, communitarian and personal; again with tears of father, mother and son.

The encyclical Brothers All [FT] denounces precisely the regression of an extravagant world that - with a sense of the “here and now” shrunken - seems to have learned little from the tragedies of the twentieth century, until rekindling anachronistic conflicts (nn.11.13).

To internalize and live the message:

What do you think is hidden from your eyes, but previously announced - and is crying bitterly?

With what orientation you are willing to live in the «craftsmanship of Peace», even family or social, putting aside the enmities and the ephemeral [cf. FT nn. 57. 100. 127. 176. 192. 197. 216-217. 225-236. 240-243. 254-262. 271-272. 278-285]?

[Thursday 33rd wk. in O.T.  November 20, 2025]

Weeping over the eternal city, with tears of a father, a mother, a son

(Lk 19:41-44)

We like to be in the wake of fashion or opportunism, but responding to the Lord's Call is a great responsibility.

One must recognise His Visitation, in Presence, in the inspiration that emerges.

And scrutinise the signs, seize the moments of grace, instead of closing hostilely; do not turn your back.

All this changes life at the root - it leads to the heart of history.

Jesus wants to storm the closed gates of every citadel; first of all of the hardest bone: Jerusalem, the holy city.

The 'eternal' territory is less capable of accepting the Lord's proposals - even those flaunted to others but lived out in their own right with aberrant behaviour here and there (forcing repeated appeals).

There, the extremists of ancient or super-modern convenience remain all bent on guarding and covering interests, privileges, habits, comforts.

A situation that drags the problems themselves - which gradually become chronic.

Not infrequently, the astute leaders remain seated and closed in the defence of the world that sees only itself, in the perfect greed of every vain thing.

So much for the ferment of conversion, the engine of society, the seed of new life!

Result: the much flaunted Truth often remains hostage to the most blatant injustices, which cheerfully consume the worst betrayals in daily life.

Jesus, too, became aware of the same situation, which produced degradation and dehumanisation.

Sometimes, in fact, the search for the divine and human tension are rendered vain, because of an exclusive, snobbish or sectarian official world - that of the sacred - that seems to be under the sign of a completely different 'divinity'.

On the part of the 'directors', the choice of an ideology of power feeds on illusions.

It leads to hard proselytism, but leads the entire people - harassed, despised, marginalised - to disaster.

By blurring the gaze, it does not allow one to rid oneself of the most insidious idols that disfigure existence and the mind.

In this way, the dirigiste, superficial and violent outlook confuses and sidetracks the path to Shalôm.

It is impossible to realise the Visitation of God, in the perennial city of ancient religiosity or elitist, disembodied ideology.

Once, there were trenches, killings and the destruction of walls and houses by Nebuchadnezzar; then the Roman one in 70, to which the text alludes more directly.

But the grim forecast extends, and perhaps the image of the pile of ruins concerns us. Historical background, ecclesial and pastoral meditation.

Not infrequently the competent authority has unfortunately continued to condemn Jesus-Peace as an evildoer to be expelled.

But in filigree, Christ today stands out in the position of King, reluctantly pronouncing a final sentence.

Perhaps he even does so on his intimates, when he allows himself to compromise, to ideal degradation, to venal corruption [idol worship].

Where salvation is prepared, offered and re-proposed so intensely but in vain, the rejection becomes more painful - so for us and for this passionate, moving, almost afflicted Son.

Yet the class of the chosen and exclusive still chooses to fall and ruin, thereby self-destructing.

Receiving in return only the mundane fodder of a title to pin down.

And in the same 'spirit of permanence', rejecting the servant Messiah.

Misrecognising even in time the good work of its authentic witnesses.

Therefore, the City of cities - the great religious centre - will continue to lose its special character as a saving sign.

There will be a fulfilment nevertheless, but the anticipation is realised now.

So: are we with the Redeemer [resistance to oppression and prophetic activity without acquiescence] or with Jerusalem [deviations covered by docility, friendship of the ruler, notoriety, monetary rewards]?

Today too is the time of the Master's visit, who knocks and asks permission to enter, to open the seals of the great questions of history and life.

The warning is global, communal and personal; again with tears of father, mother and son.

An appeal that is still in the making - for the current cultural tendency towards nothingness, surrender and the ephemeral.

The encyclical Fratelli Tutti denounces precisely the regress of an extravagant world that - with a shrunken sense of the 'here and now' - seems to have learnt little from the tragedies of the 20th century, to the point of rekindling anachronistic conflicts (nn.11.13).

The Father has reserved an alternative kingdom for the Church, and where it tries to occupy the place of others, it only ends up living off the handouts of the magazine, and making its closest children stay.

Better not to ruin love. Standing up for oneself is a mask of dwarfs, not a virtue of the strong - nor of family members.But by also noticing the places of rupture, and catching up with the social pace, it is with new evangelical acumen that we will be able to make the God-for-all really work and live, rather than grieve over us.

This is best done from his People: from the soul of his Fraternities of silent lambs, engaged not in managing positions, but in the sine glossa craft of real life.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you consider to be hidden from your eyes, but previously announced - and crying bitterly?

With what orientation are you willing to live in the 'craft of Peace', even family or social, putting aside enmities and the ephemeral [cf. FT nn. 57. 100. 127. 176. 192. 197. 216-217. 225-236. 240-243. 254-262. 271-272. 278-285]?

Peace, in Truth

11. In the face of the dangers that humanity is experiencing in our times, it is the task of all Catholics to intensify, in every part of the world, the proclamation and witness of the 'Gospel of Peace', proclaiming that the recognition of the full truth of God is a prior and indispensable condition for the consolidation of the truth of peace. God is Love that saves, a loving Father who desires to see his children recognise each other as brothers and sisters, responsibly striving to place their different talents at the service of the common good of the human family. God is the inexhaustible source of hope that gives meaning to personal and collective life. God, God alone, makes every work of good and peace effective. History has amply demonstrated that waging war against God to eradicate him from human hearts leads a fearful and impoverished humanity towards choices that have no future. This must spur believers in Christ to become convincing witnesses of the God who is inseparably truth and love, placing themselves at the service of peace, in broad collaboration ecumenically and with other religions, as well as with all people of good will.

[Pope Benedict, Message for the XXXIX World Day of Peace, 2006].

11. In view of the risks which humanity is facing in our time, all Catholics in every part of the world have a duty to proclaim and embody ever more fully the ''Gospel of Peace'', and to show that acknowledgment of the full truth of God is the first, indispensable condition for consolidating the truth of peace. God is Love which saves, a loving Father who wants to see his children look upon one another as brothers and sisters, working responsibly to place their various talents at the service of the common good of the human family. God is the unfailing source of the hope which gives meaning to personal and community life. God, and God alone, brings to fulfilment every work of good and of peace. History has amply demonstrated that declaring war on God in order to eradicate him from human hearts only leads a fearful and impoverished humanity toward decisions which are ultimately futile. This realization must impel believers in Christ to become convincing witnesses of the God who is inseparably truth and love, placing themselves at the service of peace in broad cooperation with other Christians, the followers of other religions and with all men and women of good will.

[Pope Benedict, Message for the XXXIX World Day of Peace, 2006]

1. Dominus flevit (cf. Lk19, 41).

There is a place in Jerusalem, on the side of the Mount of Olives, where according to tradition Christ wept over the city of Jerusalem. In those tears of the Son of Man there is almost a distant echo of another weeping, of which the first reading from the Book of Nehemiah speaks. After returning from Babylonian bondage, the Israelites set about rebuilding the temple. First, however, they heard the words of the Holy Scripture, and of the priest Ezra, who then blessed the people with the Book of the Law. Then they all burst into tears. For we read that the governor Nehemiah and the priest Ezra said to those present: 'This day is consecrated to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep! [ . . .] do not mourn, for the joy of the Lord is your strength" (Ne8:9, 10).

Behold, that of the Israelites was weeping for joy at the recovered temple, at the regained freedom.

2. The weeping of Christ on the Mount of Olives was not, however, a weeping for joy. For he exclaimed: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often have I desired to gather thy children, as a hen gathereth her chicks under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house shall be left to you deserted" (Mt 23:37-38).

Similar words Jesus will say a little later on the road to Calvary, meeting the weeping women of Jerusalem.

In Jesus' weeping over Jerusalem, his love for the Holy City finds expression, together with his sorrow for the not distant future, which he foresees: the City will be conquered and the temple destroyed, the young men will be subjected to the same torment as he, death on a cross. "Then they will begin to say to the mountains: fall on us! and to the hills: cover us! For if they so treat the green wood, what will happen to the dry wood?" (Lk 23:30-31).

[Pope John Paul II, homily Syracuse 6 November 1994]

The grace to recognise when Jesus passes by, when he "knocks on our door", the grace "to recognise the time when we have been visited, are visited and will be visited". This is the prayer addressed to the Lord for every Christian by Pope Francis at the end of his homily during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Thursday 17 November. A prayer not to fall into a "drama" repeated in history, from the origins to the present day: that of "not recognising God's love".

The Pontiff's meditation was inspired by the Gospel passage in which Luke (19:41-44) describes Jesus' weeping over the city of Jerusalem. "What did Jesus feel in his heart - the Pope asked - at this moment of his weeping? Why does Jesus weep over Jerusalem?". And the answer may come by leafing through the Bible: "Jesus remembers and recalls the whole history of the people, of his people. And he remembers his people's rejection of the Father's love".

Thus "in the heart of Jesus, in the memory of Jesus, at that moment, came the passages of the prophets". Like the one of Hosea - "I will seduce her, I will lead her into the wilderness and speak to her heart; I will make her my wife" - in which one encounters "God's enthusiasm and desire for his people", his "love". Or the words of Jeremiah: "Of you I remember the time of your youth, the time of your betrothal, your young love, when you followed me into the wilderness. But you turned away from me". And again: "What did your fathers find to turn away from me?", "Woe to you that your fathers turned away from me...".

The Pontiff tried to imagine the flow of memory that involved Jesus at that moment and again recalled the prophet Hosea: "When Israel was a child I loved him, but the more I called him, the more he turned away from me". What emerged was the 'drama of God's love and the turning away, the unfaithfulness of the people'. It was, he explained, 'what Jesus had in his heart': on the one hand the memory of a 'story of love', even of God's 'crazy' love for his people, a love without measure', and on the other hand the 'selfish, defiant, adulterous, idolatrous' response of the people.

There is then another aspect that emerges from the Gospel passage of the day. Jesus in fact complains about Jerusalem, "because," he says, "you have not recognised the time when you were visited by God, by the patriarchs, by the prophets". The Pontiff suggested that in Jesus' memory there was "that divinatory parable, the one about when the master sends one of his employees to ask for money: they beat him; and then another one they kill. Finally he sends his son and what do these people say? "But this is the son! This one has the inheritance.... Let's kill him! Let us kill him and the inheritance will be for us!" This is the explanation of what is meant by "the hour of visitation", that is, "Jesus is the son who comes and is not recognised. He is rejected!" In fact, in John's Gospel we read: 'He came to them and they did not accept him', 'the light came and the people chose darkness'. So it is this, Francis explained, "that makes the heart of Jesus Christ ache, this story of unfaithfulness, this story of not recognising God's caresses, God's love, of a God in love" who wants man's happiness.

Jesus, said the Pope, "saw at that moment what awaited him as Son. And he wept 'because this people did not recognise the time when he was visited'".

At this point the Pontiff's meditation turned to the daily life of every Christian, because, he said, "this drama did not happen only in history and ended with Jesus. It is the drama of every day'. Each of us can ask ourselves: 'Can I recognise the time in which I was visited? Does God visit me?"

To better understand the concept, Francis referred to last Tuesday's liturgy, which spoke of "three moments of God's visitation: to correct us; to enter into conversation with us; and to invite himself into our home". On that occasion it emerged that 'God stands, Jesus stands before us, and when he wants to correct us he says: "Wake up! Change your life! This is not good!" Then when he wants to speak to us he says: "I knock on the door and call. Open me!" Like when to Zacchaeus he said: "Get out!" to "get invited in".

So today we can ask ourselves: "How is my heart before the visit of Jesus?"". And also "make an examination of conscience: 'Am I attentive to what passes in my heart? Do I hear? Do I know how to listen to the words of Jesus, when he knocks at my door or when he says to me: "Wake up! Correct yourself!"; or when he says to me: "Come down, I want to dine with you"?". It is an important question because, the Pontiff warned, "each of us can fall into the same sin as the people of Israel, into the same sin as Jerusalem: not recognising the time in which we were visited".

In the face of so many of our certainties - 'But I am sure of my things. I go to Mass, I am sure' - we must remember that 'every day the Lord visits us, every day he knocks on our door'. And so 'we must learn to recognise this, so as not to end up in that very painful situation' found in the words of the prophet Hosea: 'The more I loved them, the more I called them, the more they turned away from me'. So the Pope repeated: 'Do you examine your conscience about this every day? Did the Lord visit me today? Have I felt any invitation, any inspiration to follow him more closely, to do a work of charity, to pray a little more?" In short, to do all those things to which "the Lord invites us every day to meet with us"?

The lesson that emerges from this meditation is therefore that "Jesus wept not only for Jerusalem, but for all of us", and that he "gives his life so that we may acknowledge his visitation". In this sense, the Pontiff recalled "a very strong phrase" of St Augustine: ""I am afraid of God, of Jesus, when he passes by!" - "But why are you afraid? - I am afraid of not recognising him!"". Therefore, the Pope concluded, "if you are not attentive to your heart, you will never know whether Jesus is visiting you or not."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 18/11/2016]

With tears of a father and mother

Today God continues to weep - with tears of a father and a mother - before calamities, wars unleashed to worship the god of money, so many innocents killed by bombs, a humanity that does not seem to want peace. It is a strong invitation to conversion that Francis re-launched in the Mass celebrated on Thursday morning, 27 October, in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta. An invitation that the Pontiff motivated by recalling that God became man precisely to weep with and for his children.

In the passage from Luke's Gospel (13:31-35) proposed by the liturgy, the Pope explained, "it seems that Jesus had lost his patience and also uses strong words: it is not an insult but it is not a compliment to say 'fox' to a person". To be precise he says to the Pharisees who told him about Herod: "Go and tell that fox". But already "on other occasions Jesus spoke harshly": for example, he said "perverse and adulterous generation". And he called the disciples 'hard-hearted' and 'foolish'. Luke reports the words in which Jesus makes a real 'summary of what is to come: "it is necessary for me to go on my way because it is not possible for a prophet to die outside Jerusalem"'. Basically, the Lord "says what will happen, he prepares to die".

But "then immediately Jesus changes tones," Francis pointed out. "After this loud outburst," in fact, "he changes his tone and looks at his people, he looks at the city of Jerusalem: 'Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those who were sent to you!'" He looks at "the closed Jerusalem, which has not always received the messengers of the Father". And "Jesus' heart begins to speak with tenderness: 'Jerusalem, how often have I wanted to gather your children like a hen her chicks!'". Here is "the tenderness of God, the tenderness of Jesus". That day he "wept over Jerusalem". But "that weeping of Jesus," the Pope explained, "is not the weeping of a friend before the tomb of Lazarus. That is the weeping of a friend before the death of another"; instead "this is the weeping of a father who weeps, it is God the Father who weeps here in the person of Jesus".

"Someone said that God became man so that he could weep for what his children had done," said the Pontiff. And so "the weeping before the tomb of Lazarus is the weeping of a friend". But what Luke recounts 'is the weeping of the Father'. In this regard, Francis also recalled the attitude of the 'father of the prodigal son, when his youngest son asked him for the inheritance money and went away'. And "that father is sure, he did not go to his neighbours and say: 'look what happened to me, but this poor wretch what he did to me, I curse this son! No, he did not do this'. Instead, said the Pope, "I am sure" that that father "went off crying alone".

True, the Gospel does not reveal this detail,' Francis continued, 'but it tells us that when the son returned he saw the father from afar: this means that the father continually went up to the terrace to watch the path to see if the son was coming back'. And 'a father who does this is a father who lives in weeping, waiting for his son to return'. Precisely this is "the weeping of God the Father; and with this weeping the Father recreates in his Son all creation".

"When Jesus went with the cross to Calvary," the Pontiff recalled, "the pious women wept and he said to them: 'No, do not weep over me, weep for your children'". It is the "weeping of a father and mother that God continues to do even today: even today in the face of calamities, of the wars that are waged to worship the god money, of so many innocents killed by the bombs that the worshippers of the idol money throw down". And so 'even today the Father weeps, even today he says: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, my children, what are you doing?"'. And "he says this to the poor victims and also to the arms dealers and to all those who sell people's lives".

In conclusion Francis suggested that we "think that God became man in order to weep. And it will be good for us to think that our Father God weeps today: he weeps for this humanity that does not understand the peace he offers us, the peace of love".

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 27 October 2016]

Talents - Gifts of the new Kingdom

(Lk 19:11-28)

We all have unique strengths, qualities and inclinations.  Each one receives prophetic gifts [even if only one] and can fit into ecclesial services.

Everyone - also the normally excluded, as Zacchaeus (vv. 1-10) - has an unparalleled wealth of resources that he can pass on, for the enrichment of the community.

Lk narrates this parable because he notes that some converts from his assemblies have difficulty unlocking themselves.

To tell the truth and in a clear way, between them arises a competition concerning the importance of the ecclesial tasks [it’s the Gospel sense of "talents according to ability" of the parallel text Mt 25,15].

Roles also threatened by the arrival and inclusion of pagans, less intimidated and more loose than the Judaizing faithful.

The resulting pique stiffens the inner atmosphere, accentuates difficulties in collaborating and exchanging skills, resources - enriching each other.

The very idea of God as lawgiver and judge (vv.21-22) led believers not to grow or transmit, but rather to lock themselves up and move away from the Father’s project.

To understand the meaning of v.22 where the King would seem to reiterate the petty idea of the lavative, just enter the question mark.

The original Greek codes had no punctuation:

«He says to him: From your same mouth I judge you, wicked servant! Did you know that I am a severe man, that I take what I have not deposited and that I reap what I have not sown?».

How to say: «But who taught you this, de-educating?!».

The Lord strongly reiterates that a deformed idea of Heaven can affect the bearing lines of personality and ruin people’s existence.

This is if they perceive Freedom and the risk of Love as being a fault and in any case a danger of sin that could lead them to no longer being "in God’s grace".                                                           

Instead, the Lord wants a Family, where no one is alarmed, or held braked, blocked, put in a hole.

He doesn’t want the conquests to scare us and hold us back.

Anyone who updates, confronts himself, is interested, and makes a contribution - without being overwhelmed by routine, fear, fatigue - sees his own human and spiritual wealth grow, flourish.

Conversely, no one will be surprised that less enterprising situations undergo further downturns and eventually perish without leaving any regrets (vv.24-26).

Jesus knew that even the norms were not enough «if we continue to think that the solution to current problems is deterrence through fear» (FT n.262).

The Lord in fact frequented the “outsides” to interest groups; and always He kept away from envious environments.

He acted laboriously, in «craftmanship» way (FT n.217) and put His face on it.

Did He have alternatives? Of course: not move Himself, do not guard the minimums, do not protect them, limit Himself, keep the mouth closed; eventually open it, but only to flatter the powerful and established.

It also applies to us: the game to downside, on the safe, atrophies personal and social life; does not make a new Kingdom grow - loses it.

[Wednesday 33rd wk. in O.T.  November 19, 2025]

Talents, mines - Gifts of the new Kingdom

(Lk 19:11-28)

How can a community reveal the Presence of God? By enhancing and accentuating the facets of life, defending them, promoting them, and rejoicing.

Why is it that some grow and others do not? Why is it that those who advance less than others, precisely on the 'religious' path, risk ruin?

We all have unique strengths, bullets, qualities and inclinations. Everyone receives gifts as a stepping stone [even if only one - like his or her Calling] and can fit into church services.

Everyone - even the normally excluded like Zacchaeus (vv.1-10) - has a wealth of unparalleled resources that he can pass on, for the enrichment of the community.

Luke tells this parable because he notices that some converts in his assemblies have difficulty unlocking themselves and triggering an evolution that also affects their neighbours.

Some just do not flourish, clinging to their ministry, character, roles, precedence and hierarchy.

To put it plainly and clearly, a competition arises among them concerning the importance of ecclesial assignments [this is the true evangelical meaning of the "talents according to ability" of the parallel text Mt 25:15].

These tasks are also undermined by the onslaught of those coming from paganism, who are less intimidated and looser than the somewhat museum-like Judaizing faithful.

The resulting punctiliousness stiffens the internal atmosphere, accentuates difficulties in collaborating and exchanging gifts, resources - enriching one another.

Vain and competitive situations we know.

We all receive some accent of the Kingdom, goods to be multiplied by passing on, for example (as here) the Word of God.

A unique gift, but not rare: immense prosperity and extraordinary life-promoting virtues... for each and all.

Thus the spirit of service and sharing, the aptitude for discernment and appreciation of unique uniqueness, and much more.

Of course, the community grows not if it produces, showcases, 'fruits' and yields. It is made up of members who know how to place themselves spontaneously!

Women and men of Faith do not seek merit, they do not keep for themselves; they relate to God and neighbour in a wise manner.

Even not in 'correct' terms and formulas - according to the instruction booklet.

Unfortunately, in order to force compliance with the boards and configuration, and to follow the custom... the veterans leveraged the popular inclination not to get into trouble.

Situation and 'perception' to the contrary, which paralysed even inner life.

Since the time of Jesus, there has been no lack of situations dominated by serious fears, and a desire to avoid blackmail [my mother used to say in amazement of our local, provincial leaders (the dishonest ones): "They use religion as a weapon!"].

The very idea of God as lawgiver and judge (vv.21-22) induced believers not to grow or pass on, rather to close themselves off and distance themselves from the Father's project.

On pain of social exclusion, it is often still (even) forbidden to welcome new experiences of God...

Very serious, to authentically encounter oneself, to open personal (even radically vocational) spaces, to trace one's own path.

Thus for centuries. Identification and that is all.

To understand the meaning of v.22 where in the CEI translation the King would seem to reiterate the petty idea of the uneducated washerman, just insert the question mark.

The original Greek codices had no punctuation:

"He says to him: From your own mouth I judge you, wicked servant! Did you know that I am a stern man, that I take what I have not deposited and that I reap what I have not sown?"

As if to say, "But who taught you this, unlearning?!"

The same applies to the parallel passage of Mt 25:26: "But answering, his Lord said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant.... Did you know that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered?"

The Lord emphatically reiterates that a deformed idea of Heaven can affect the character lines and ruin people's existence.

This is if they perceive Freedom and the risk of Love as a guilt and in any case a danger of sin that could lead them to the deleteriousness of no longer being considered 'in the grace of God'.

The religions of antiquity also needed followers who were immature and obtuse, without nerve - who were content to avoid danger, and clung to the petty securities of the daily grind.

Instead, the Father desires adult hearts, who undertake and risk for love and for love's sake.

If the God of folklore needs dull and servile flocks, Christ needs daring friends, family and collaborators, capable of walking on their own legs, who do not dehumanise [others].

The pastoral of consensus - 'I will give you what you want'; or the fashions of single thought à la page - presupposes obedient and devout masses, deprived of personality and dreams.Instead, the Lord desires Family, where no one is alarmed, restrained, blocked, and put in the hole.

Perhaps this inhibition is also accepted by people for fear of losing the family tranquillity, the little place someone has, the fake security they have carved out for themselves - or taken in handouts.

Christ does not want conquests to frighten us and hold us back, but that as consanguineers of our eternal side we should be the first to vibrate with prophetic ideals.

And ramming the false certainties that do not disturb [indeed, they put us into lethargy] to stimulate grander ideal realms - in terms of breathing quality and humanisation.

Even the little we have can be invested - through a contribution to be made available to all, in the community that values us...

This is the ministerial Church: the 'bank' of v.27 - which projects and endlessly expands resources, the broken Bread, the goods of the Kingdom.

In short, that which promotes the assemblies and reveals the Presence of God is personal and unique, yet it must not remain rare.

Everyone has an opportunity for apostolate, his or her own attitude of friendship and unrepeatable skills: but these are to be explored without limits, so that they may be shared, made sapiential and propulsive.

As the Pontiff declared:

"The inability of experts to see the signs of the times is due to the fact that they are closed within their system; they know what can and cannot be done, and they stay safe there. Let us ask ourselves: am I only open to my own things and my own ideas, or am I open to the God of surprises?"

Anyone who keeps up to date, confronts, takes an interest, makes a contribution - without getting overwhelmed by routine, fear, fatigue - sees their human and spiritual richness grow, flourish.

Conversely, no one will be surprised that rearguard situations - exhausting, exhausted, spineless and just plain boring - suffer further downturns and finally perish without leaving regrets (vv.24-26).

In this catechesis, Lk reminds us that Jesus was not the type to be put under escort, but an involved, willing figure.

He did not let things slide, but got inside... in matters - nor did He say: what am I doing there?

Nor did he merely fight for legal change - appreciable and necessary - but stood at a safe distance.

Instead, he embodied the gift of self, tracing the path of social choice in the first person, with an arduousness to undertake it - without placing anything in the safe, for fear of persecution and failure.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (No. 262) we would say: he knew that even norms were not enough 'if one thinks that the solution to problems consists in dissuading through fear'.

The Lord in fact frequented those outside the circle and those in between. He kept away from envious and smelly circles.

He acted in a hard-working, 'artisanal' (FT no.217) manner and put his face to it.

Did he have alternatives? Certainly: not to move, not to guard the least, to limit oneself, to keep one's mouth shut; possibly to open it, but only to flatter the powerful, the established and well-connected.

It was enough to lay down ideals and actions of freedom:

By giving up the struggle and taking tortuous paths, he would have no problems.

And if he had added omertà to the common mediocrity of the spiritual leaders of the time, he could very well have had a career.

It also applies to us: playing it down, playing it safe, atrophies personal and social life, does not grow a new kingdom - it loses it.