Today we begin a new series of catecheses on the theme of prayer. Prayer is the breath of faith; it is its most proper expression. Like a cry that issues from the heart of those who believe and entrust themselves to God. Let us think about the story of Bartimaeus, a character in the Gospel (cf. Mk 10:46-52), and I confess that for me he is the most likeable of all. He was blind and sat begging for alms by the roadside on the periphery of his city, Jericho. He is not an anonymous character. He has a face and a name: Bartimaeus, that is, “son of Timaeus”. One day he heard that Jesus would be passing through there. In fact, Jericho was a crossroads of people, continually criss-crossed by pilgrims and tradesmen. Thus, Bartimaeus positioned himself: he would have done anything possible to meet Jesus. So many people did the same. Let us recall Zacchaeus who climbed up the tree. Many wanted to see Jesus; he did too. In this way the man enters the Gospels as a voice that loudly cries out. He cannot see. He does not know whether Jesus is near or far away but he hears him. He understands this from the crowd which, at a certain point, grows and comes closer…. But he is completely alone and no one is concerned about him. And what does Bartimaeus do? He cries out. And he cries out and continues to cry out. He uses the only weapon he possesses: his voice. He begins to shout: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (v. 47). And he continues to cry out in this manner. His repeated cries are a nuisance. They do not seem polite and many people scold him, telling him to be quiet: “But be polite; do not do this”. However, Bartimaeus does not keep silent but rather cries out even more loudly: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (v. 47): That beautiful stubbornness of those who seek a grace and knock and knock on the door of God’s heart. He cries out; he knocks. That expression: “Son of David”, is very important. It means “the Messiah” — he professes the Messiah. It is a profession of faith that emerges from the mouth of that man who was despised by all. And Jesus listens to his cry. Bartimaeus’ prayer touches his heart, God’s heart, and the doors of salvation open up for him. Jesus calls for him. He jumps to his feet and those who had first told him to be quiet, now lead him to the Master. Jesus speaks to him. He asks him to express his desire — this is important — and then the cry becomes a request: “that I may see again, Lord!” (cf. v. 51).

Jesus says to him: “Go your way; your faith has made you well” (v. 52). He recognises in that poor, defenceless and despised man, all the power of his faith, which attracts the mercy and the power of God. Faith is having two hands raised up, a voice that cries out to implore the gift of salvation. The Catechism states that “humility is the foundation of prayer” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2559). Prayer is born of the earth, of the humus from which “humble”, “humility” derive. It comes from our precarious state, from our continuous thirst for God (cf. ibid., 2560-2561). Faith, as we have seen with Bartimaeus, is a cry. Lack of faith is the suppression of that cry. That attitude that the people had, in making him keep quiet: they were not people of faith, whereas he was. To suppress that cry is a type of omertà (code of silence). Faith is a protest against a pitiful condition the cause of which we do not understand. Lack of faith is to limit ourselves to endure a situation to which we have become accustomed. Faith is the hope of being saved. Lack of faith is becoming accustomed to the evil that oppresses us and continuing in that way.

Dear brothers and sisters, we begin this series of catecheses with Bartimaeus’ cry because perhaps everything is already written in someone like him. Bartimaeus is a persevering man. He was surrounded by people who explained that imploring was useless, that it was clamouring without receiving a reply, that it was noise that was only bothersome, and thus please stop crying out. But he did not remain in silence. And in the end he obtained what he wanted.

Greater than any discussion to the contrary, there is a voice in mankind’s heart that invokes. We all have this voice within. A voice that comes forth spontaneously without anyone commanding it, a voice that asks itself about the meaning of our journey on earth, especially when we find ourselves in darkness: “Jesus, have mercy on me! Jesus have mercy on me!”. This is a beautiful prayer.

But are these words perhaps not chiselled in all of creation? Everything invokes and implores so that the mystery of mercy may be definitively fulfilled. Not only Christians pray; they share their cry of prayer with all men and women. But the horizon can be further widened: Paul states that all of creation “has been groaning in travail together until now” (Rom 8:22). Artists are often the interpreters of this silent cry of creation that is found in every creature and emerges above all in the heart of men and women, because they are “beggars before God” (ccc, 2559). It is a beautiful definition of mankind: “beggars before God”. Thank you.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 6 May 2020]

Choice of the Chalice

(Mk 10:32-45)

Mark writes his Gospel in the year of the four Caesars (68-69). In simplicity, it reflects emergencies or tensions, even in the community.

Despite the fact that Nero's persecution has been over for a few years, immediately the believers return to fight among themselves to be "big" and in first place.

Within the Roman church the contest of excelling starts again. Here is the cue of the Gospel call.

To be revered, hunger for prominence, better to count than to be counted? Place of honour is the last.

Alternative is: a religion that produces and reiterates distances, or the life of humility-coexistence marked by sympathy for the less entitled.

In this way, the person of Faith is recognised and characterised by human fulfilment, which resembles God.

In the Gospels, the «Son of Man» (vv.33.45) is an icon of transmissible holiness, a living Sanctuary from which divine compassion radiates.

'Son of man' is he who, having reached the peak of human fullness, comes to reflect the divine condition and deploys it widely - not selectively [as expected].

"Successful Son": the Person with the definitive step, who in us aspires to convivial expansion, to an indestructible carat within each one who approaches - and encounters divine marks.

It is growth and humanisation of the people: the quiet, transparent and complete fruit of the divine project on humanity.

In the icon of the «Son of Man» the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman; the progressive disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full existence.

Here are the two opposing orientations of life.

On the one hand, the custom of prevailing-enslaving, perpetuating the ancient world; then demanding, getting ahead, demanding with harsh language; so on.

It is a different matter to support people to dilate life and esteem themselves, discovering their Calling, what conforms and is beautiful to them; encouraging them to mature the Dream they cultivate.

In Jesus' proposal, celestial Glory is identified with what is a source of fulfilment for all, not only for the well-introduced [deaf by ambition].

Because if the external papier-mâché castles are ecstatic and still leave us open-mouthed, in history the presumptuous suddenly become chaff in the wind; they have no weight, they do not last.

But the disease of honour places does not heal.

The fever of being revered and seeming first in class does not subside, in fact it becomes madness; and the head still does not change.

Always striving for the climb, the line of regard - and achieving spaces. Measure of a way of conceiving.

«Son of Man» is therefore not a “religious” or selective title, but a possibility for all those who allow themselves to be drawn into the humanity of Christ.

He is not the archetype of a pyramid authority, attentive to balance and strategic points.

In this way, the holders of prestigious roles are only «considered» (v.42) leaders.

Such dynamics do not belong to the community of the Sons - marked by sharing the 'choice of the Chalice' (v.39): the anti-ambition.

In short, Christ reaffirms that God's authentic enemy is not imperfection, nor limitation - or even the apparent ruin of one's prestige - but an entirely internal demon.

The counterpart of the Lord is the desire to get on the board of life and be served by others, out of power intoxication.

In the icon of the «Son of Man» the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman; the progressive disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full existence.

Exactly. The Lord disdains the model of satraps.

[Wednesday, 8th wk. in O.T.  May 27, 2026]

The model of the satraps

(Mk 10:35-45)

Unofficially, Pius VII tried to lift the triregnum (neoclassical style, unusual) given to him by Napoleon, but his pages almost couldn't pull it up for the weight.

Let alone carry 8 kilos and 200 grams on his head! He tried, however, also to put it on, while of course someone also supported him from the side (imagine if he had fallen on the red slippers).

But it was also too narrow: impossible to stick your head in!

Out of spite, Bonaparte, the new emperor, had it made up so that no pope could ever wear it; and so it was, the ironic museum piece.

The imposition formula was: 'Receive the Tiara adorned with three crowns, and know that Thou art Father of Princes and Kings, Ruler of the world, Vicar on earth of Our Saviour Jesus Christ, to whom be honour and glory for ever and ever'. Amen.

While amidst symphonies and choirs someone was waiting for the very moment of the tiara to weep a little over the ancient glories, at the celebration of the reopening of the Council - after the coronation - Paul VI finally laid the triregnum on the papal altar.

He took it off with satisfaction, not because it was uncomfortable (he had a good four and a half kilos on his head): later he also made other gestures of unexpected renunciation with demands to be obeyed.

After him, no pope had the courage to adorn himself with it.

It was an opportunity not to be missed for those with vast experience in curial and diplomatic circles.

With the keys of Heaven, the reins of the earth and the command of Purgatory (the three crowns) in his fist, the pontiff decided to bring up several flames from underground - to overheat the strains of some careerist from the sidelines, accustomed to directing souls by standing on top of any trunk.

Mc wrote his Gospel in the year of the four Caesars (68-69).

Despite the fact that Nero's persecution had passed only a few years earlier, immediately the believers returned to squabbling among themselves to be 'big' and in first place.

Within the Roman community, the race to excel began again. Here is the cue for the evangelical call.

To be worshipped, hunger for prominence, better to be counted than to be counted?

The place of honour is last.

The alternative is: a religion that produces and reiterates distances, or the life of humility-communion marked by sympathy for the less entitled.

The person of Faith is recognised and characterised by human fulfilment, which resembles God.

In the Gospels, the "Son of Man" (vv. 33.45) is an icon of transmissible holiness, a living sanctuary from which divine compassion radiates.

Son of man is the one who, having reached the peak of human fullness, comes to reflect the divine condition and radiates it widely - not selectively as expected.

Successful son: the Person with the definitive step, who in us aspires to convivial expansion, to an indestructible carat within each one who approaches - and encounters - divine marks.

It is growth and humanisation of the people: the quiet, transparent and complete development of the divine plan on humanity.

The Son of Man is therefore not a religious, guarded, controlled and reserved title, but an opportunity for all those who adhere to the Lord's life proposal and reinterpret it in a personal creative way.

They transcend the firm, natural boundaries making room for the Gift; welcoming from Grace the fullness of being, in its new, unrepeatable tracks.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, we discover other facets... we change the way we are with ourselves, and we can grow, realise ourselves, flourish, radiate the wholeness we have received - with no more closures.

In the Gospels, the Son of Man - the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity - is not hindered by the frequenters of the bad places, but by the habitués of the sacred precincts.

Precisely. The Lord disdains the model of satraps.

Here then are the two opposing orientations of life.

On the one hand, the custom of prevailing-serving, perpetuating the old world; thus demanding, getting one's way, dominating, manipulating, acting with duplicity, demanding with harsh (but also mellifluous - in order to obtain for oneself) language...

Instead, a different humanising track is to support people in expanding their lives and esteeming themselves, discovering their own deepest states, their personal Calling - that which is conformable and beautiful to them - encouraging them to mature the Dream they cultivate.

In Jesus' proposal, heavenly glory is identified with what is a source of fulfilment for all, not with a pyramidal archetype of well-introduced (deaf in ambition).

For if the outer papier-mâché castles are ecstatic and still leave us open-mouthed, in the turn of history the presumptuous suddenly become chaff in the wind; they have no weight, they do not last.

It is the archetype of pyramidal authority and command, attentive to balance and strategic points.Such dynamics do not belong to the community of the Sons - marked by sharing the choice of the Chalice (v.39): anti-ambition.

In short, Jesus reaffirms that God's authentic enemy is not imperfection, nor limitation - or even the apparent ruin of one's prestige - but an internal demon.

The counterpart of the Lord is the desire to climb the board of life and be served by others, for the thrill of power.

On a crusader capital preserved in the Nazareth Museum is a sculpture of an Apostle with a wavering pose and an uncertain gait, who is decisively dragged along by a crowned female figure: Faith.

It is Faith that clasps its hand on the wrist (where life pulses) of the character - awkward but endowed with a halo (from the features he definitely looks like Peter) undermined by the demons of having and power.

The disease of places of honour does not heal. The fever of being revered and seeming to be first in class does not subside, in fact it becomes sheer madness; and the head still does not change.

Always striving for the climb, the line of respect - and achieving space. Measure of a way of conceiving.

Here, then, is the Bishop of Rome still compelled to admonish his princes:

"These people play at being God"! "A successful life does not depend on success or on what others think". "Today there is a culture of subjugation of the other" - and so on.

In this way, the holders of titles of prestige are "deemed" (v.42) to be leaders. 

In the parallel passage, Lk adds that these rulers - also in relation to the churches - moreover claim to be called 'benefactors' (a title of the great Hellenistic rulers).

And unfortunately here and there the malpractice continues.

It is the type of chained, position-conscious sovereignty; which is exercised and 'works' great, but it does not go.

To ape the worldly structures marked by logics of privilege, prevarication, plagiarism, and subjugation is less than noble and more than suspicious: far from being an example or a civil and moral engine of society!

Such dynamics do not belong to the community of the Sons; although they are occasionally evoked, enacted by individuals and factions oppressing the voiceless (even underhandedly) or at least regretted by ill-concealed nostalgics.

The same ones who - not having lost the vice of satisfying themselves by cloaking themselves in false prestige - continue to spoil the climate and drive away the best energies.

The Apostles were already sure that they had taken the Master hostage (v.35).

So in the still vain attempt to stir consciences and diroze them, the Lord continues to address men - as in the Gospel passage - cordially and from below, like a slave with his masters (v.36).

It is God who is the forced labourer at the service of the subordinates' desire for life; reflexively His own - if they manifest Him authentically, Greatly seriously.

To those who do not live a vital relationship with Christ but pretend to sequester him, Pope Francis reiterated the traits of the "disease of those who feel themselves masters. They believe themselves to be superior or indispensable and not of service. Sickness that comes from the pathology of power, narcissism, the complex of the elect'.

The 'designated' often imagine that they have already caged Jesus, so you always find them above and in front, never equal; let alone behind: rather, smeared with imperial dust that produces lacerations and schisms (v.41).

Other than giving themselves and sharing - we repeat - the choice of the Chalice (the anti-ambition)!

Here is the indicative element of the difference between religion and Faith:

The enemy of God is not sin, but power. The intoxication of being crowned with a tiara, that is, of being destined to continually allow oneself to be honoured, to be noticed and to command everywhere... even underground.

Once again the Lord has granted me the joy of carrying out this solemn act by which the College of Cardinals is enriched with new Members chosen from every part of the world. They are Pastors who zealously govern important Diocesan communities and Prelates who head Dicasteries of the Roman Curia or who have served the Church and the Holy See with exemplary faithfulness.

As from today, they are part of that coetus peculiaris which gives the Successor of Peter a more immediate and diligent collaboration, supporting him in the exercise of his universal ministry,

First of all I address my affectionate greeting, renewing the expression of my esteem and my deep appreciation to them for their witness to the Church and to the world. In particular, I greet Archbishop Angelo Amato and thank him for his kind words to me.

I then offer a cordial welcome to the Official Delegations of various countries, to the Representatives of numerous dioceses and to all who have gathered here to take part in this event during which these venerable and dear Brothers receive the sign of cardinalitial dignity by the imposition of the biretta [“red hat”], and the assignment of the Title of a church in Rome.

The special communion and affection that bonds these new Cardinals to the Pope makes them his unique and precious cooperators in the lofty mandate to tend his sheep, which Christ entrusted to Peter (cf. Jn 21:15-17) in order to unite peoples with the solicitude of Christ's love. From this same love the Church was born, called to live and to journey on in accordance with the Lord's commandment which sums up the whole of the law and the prophets.

Being united with Christ in faith and in communion with him means being “rooted and grounded in love” (Eph 3:17), the fabric that unites all the members of Christ's Body.

The word of God proclaimed just now helps us to meditate exactly on this most fundamental aspect. The Gospel passage (Mk 10:32-45) sets before our eyes the icon of Jesus as the Messiah — foretold by Isaiah (cf. Isaiah 53) — who came not to be served but to serve. His lifestyle becomes the basis of new relationships within the Christian community and of a new way of exercising authority.

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and for the third time, pointing it out to the disciples, predicts the way on which he intends to bring to fulfillment the work entrusted to him by the Father: the way of giving himself humbly, to the point of sacrificing his life, the way of the Passion, the way of the Cross.

Yet, even after this announcement, as had happened for the previous ones, the disciples revealed their great difficulty in understanding, in bringing about the necessary “exodus” from a worldly mind set to the mentality of God.

Such was the case of James and John, the two sons of Zebedee, who ask Jesus to grant them to sit in the places of honour, beside him in “glory”, thus expressing worldly expectations and projects of grandeur, authority and honour.

Jesus, who knows the human heart, is not upset by this request but immediately turns the limelight on its profound implications: “you do not know what you are asking”. He then guides the two brothers to an understanding of what following him means.

So what is the way that any one who wishes to be a disciple must take? It is the way of the Teacher, it is the way of total obedience to God. For this reason Jesus asks James and John: are you prepared to share my decision to carry out the Father's will to the very end? Are you prepared to take this way that passes through humiliation, suffering and death for love? The two disciples, with their confident answer, “we can”, show that once again they have not understood the real meaning of what the Teacher is outlining for them.

And again Jesus patiently helps them take a further step: not even experiencing the cup of suffering and the baptism of death entitles a person to the first place, because the first place is “for those for whom it has been prepared”, it is in the hands of the Heavenly Father. Human beings must not calculate; they must simply abandon themselves to God without making any claims, conforming themselves to his will.

The indignation of the other disciples became an opportunity to extend the teaching to the entire community. Jesus first “called them to him”: this was the act of the original vocation to which he invited them to return.

His reference to the constitutive moment of the calling of the Twelve, to “being with Jesus” in order to be sent out is very significant, because it clearly recalls that every ministry in the Church is always a response to a call of God, never the result of one's own project or personal ambition but, rather, means conforming one's will to the will of the Father who is in Heaven, as Christ did in Gethsemane (cf. Lk 22:42).

No one is master in the Church but all are called, all are sent out, all are reached and guided by divine grace. And this is also our security! Only by listening anew to the word of Jesus who asks, “come, follow me”, only by returning to our original vocation, is it possible to understand our own presence and mission in the Church as authentic disciples.

The request of James and John and the indignation of the other “ten” Apostles raised a central question to which Jesus chose to answer: who is great, who is “first” for God? First of all Jesus looks at behaviour which “those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles” risk assuming: to “lord it over them”.

Jesus points out to the disciples a completely different conduct. “But it shall not be so among you”. His community follows another rule, another logic, another model: “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all”.

The criterion of greatness and primacy according to God is not domination but service; diaconia is the fundamental law of the disciple and of the Christian community, and lets us glimpse something about “the lordship of God”.

And Jesus also indicates the reference point: the Son of man who came to serve. In other words he sums up his mission in the category of service, not meant in a generic sense but in the concrete sense of the Cross, of the total gift of life as a “ransom”, as redemption for many, and he points it out as a condition of the “sequela”.

It is a message that applies for the Apostles, for the whole Church, and especially for those who have leadership roles in the People of God. It is not the logic of domination, of power according to human criteria but rather the logic of bending down to wash feet, the logic of service, the logic of the Cross that is the root of all exercise of authority.

The Church in every period is committed to conforming to this logic and to testifying to it to make the true “lordship of God” shine out, that of love.

Venerable Brothers appointed to the cardinalitial dignity, the mission to which God calls you today and which qualifies you for an even more responsible ecclesial service, requires an ever greater willingness to adopt the style of the Son of God who came among us as one who serves (cf. Lk 22:25-27).

It is a question of following him in his humble and total gift of himself to the Church, his Bride, on the Cross. It is on this wood that the the grain of wheat — which the Father let fall into the earth of the world — dies, in order to become a ripe fruit.

This is why it is necessary to be even more deeply and firmly rooted in Christ. The intimate relationship with him that transforms life increasingly in such a way that it is possible to say with St Paul, “it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20), constitutes the primary requirement if our service is to be serene and joyful and to bear the fruit that the Lord expects of us.

Dear Brothers and Sisters who are gathered round the new Cardinals today: pray for them! Tomorrow, in this Basilica, during the concelebration on the Solemnity of Christ the King, I shall present the ring to them. It will be a further opportunity to “praise the Lord... who keeps faith for ever” (Ps 145[144]), as we said in the Responsorial Psalm.

May his Spirit support the new Cardinals in their commitment of service to the Church, following Christ on the Cross and also, if necessary, usque ad effusionem sanguinis, ever ready to respond to whoever may ask us to account for the hope that is in us, as St Peter said in the Reading (cf. 1 Pt 3:15).

I entrust the new Cardinals and their ecclesial service to Mary, Mother of the Church, so that they may proclaim to all the peoples, with apostolic zeal, the merciful love of God. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Consistory 20 November 2010]

1. "Veni, Sancte Spiritus!"

This, dear brothers and sisters, is the invocation that today, the Solemnity of Pentecost, rises insistently and confidently from the whole Church: Come, Holy Spirit, come and "give your faithful, who trust in you alone, your holy gifts" (Sequentia in sollemnitate Pentecostes).

Among these gifts of the Spirit there is one on which I would like to dwell this morning: the gift of fortitude. In our time, many exalt physical strength, even going so far as to approve of extreme manifestations of violence. In reality, man daily experiences his own weakness, especially in the spiritual and moral realms, yielding to the impulses of his inner passions and to the pressures exerted on him by his surroundings.

2. It is precisely in order to resist these multiple impulses that the virtue of fortitude is needed, which is one of the four cardinal virtues on which the entire edifice of the moral life rests: fortitude is the virtue of one who does not compromise in the performance of one's duty.

This virtue has little place in a society in which the practice of both caving in and accommodating, and of bullying and harshness in economic, social and political relations is widespread. Cowardice and aggression are two forms of lack of fortitude that are often found in human behaviour, resulting in the sad spectacle of those who are weak and cowardly with the powerful, and bold and overbearing with the defenceless.

3. Perhaps never before has the moral virtue of fortitude needed to be supported by the gift of the Holy Spirit. The gift of fortitude is a supernatural impulse, which gives vigour to the soul not only in dramatic moments such as martyrdom, but also in the usual conditions of difficulty: in the struggle to remain consistent with one's principles; in enduring offence and unjust attacks; in courageous perseverance, even amidst misunderstanding and hostility, on the path of truth and honesty.

When we experience, as Jesus did in Gethsemane, "the weakness of the flesh" (cf. Mt 26:41; Mk 14:38), that is, of human nature subjected to physical and psychic infirmities, we must invoke from the Spirit the gift of fortitude to remain steadfast and resolute on the path of goodness. Then we can repeat with St Paul: "I rejoice in my infirmities, in my outrages, in my necessities, in my persecutions, in the anguish I suffer for Christ's sake: when I am weak, it is then that I am strong" (2 Cor 12:10).

4. There are many of Christ's followers - pastors and faithful, priests, religious and lay people, engaged in every field of the apostolate and social life - who, in all times and even in our time, have known and know martyrdom of body and soul, in intimate union with the 'Mater dolorosa' at the side of the Cross. They have overcome everything thanks to this gift of the Spirit!

Let us ask Mary, whom we now greet as 'Regina Coeli', to obtain for us the gift of fortitude in every episode of life and at the hour of death.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 14 May 1979]

"Ask Jesus for the grace to follow him closely", so as not to leave him alone, thus overcoming the temptations of looking at ourselves to "share the cake" of personal interests: this is the spiritual advice suggested by Francis in the Mass celebrated on Tuesday 3 October at Santa Marta.

"This passage from the Gospel," the Pontiff immediately pointed out, referring to the liturgical passage from Luke (9:51-56), "tells us of the moment when the Lord's passion draws near: 'While the days were being fulfilled when he would be lifted up on high'". And so, he explained, "Jesus goes on, the moment of the cross, the moment of passion, is approaching, and in front of this Jesus does two things".

First of all, the Lord "made the firm decision to set out - 'I accept the will of the Father' - and go forward". Then, "he announces this to his disciples: Jesus is determined to do the Father's will to the end". And to the Father he says it clearly: 'It is your will, I am here to obey; you do not want sacrifices, but you want obedience and I obey and go ahead'.

Moreover, said the Pope, Jesus "only once allowed himself to ask the Father to remove this cross a little": when in the Garden of Olives he asks the Father: "If possible, remove this cup from me, but not my will, but your will be done". Jesus is 'obedient to what the Father wants: resolute and obedient and nothing more, and like that, until the end'.

"The Lord enters into patience," the Pontiff continued, because "it is an example of walking not just dying by suffering on the cross, but walking in patience". So Jesus, "in the face of this firm decision he made, tells his disciples that the time is drawing near". For their part, "the disciples - so many passages in the Gospels recount their attitude towards this journey to Jerusalem - sometimes they did not understand what it meant or did not want to understand, because they were afraid, they were frightened". So much so that, the Pope pointed out, "when Jesus told them to go to Martha and Mary because Lazarus was dead, they tried to convince him not to go there in Judea because it was dangerous for their lives: they were afraid, they were frightened".

For this reason, therefore, the disciples "did not ask, they did not understand", perhaps telling themselves that it was "better not to ask about this: 'let time go on, perhaps it will change, and no we will not speak of this subject'". In short, it is the attitude of "hiding the truth under the table, there, that it may not be seen". What is more, "others, at other times, spoke of things of their own, things totally detached from what Jesus was saying".

In fact, when the Lord exhorted: 'let us go to Jerusalem, the son of man will be crucified', they did not understand what he was talking about. And "they were ashamed because they had talked about who among them was the greatest: 'No, this is your turn when the kingdom comes; me on the right, you on the left'. And they shared the cake, a piece to each one". While Jesus remained "alone, alone". Instead, "at other times, as in this case, they were trying to do something: 'Lord there is one who casts out demons, but he is not of us, what shall we do?'". Or they did "like the two sons of Zebedee who wanted to be on the right and left of Jesus at the time of the coming of the kingdom". Luke, in his gospel, relates that the Samaritans did not want to receive Jesus in a village. And the reaction of James and John is strong: "Shall we make a fire come down from heaven and consume them?". In short, the Pope explained, 'they were trying to do alienating things' but, the evangelist continued, 'Jesus turned around and rebuked them'.

In essence, said the Pontiff, the disciples "were looking for an alibi so as not to think about what was waiting". And instead "Jesus" was "alone, he was not accompanied in this decision, because no one understood the mystery of Jesus, the loneliness of Jesus on his way to Jerusalem: alone!". All "this to the end": suffice it to think, the Pope relaunched, "of the disciples' abandonment, of Peter's betrayal". Jesus is therefore "alone: the Gospel tells us that only an angel appeared to him from heaven to comfort him in the Garden of Olives. Only that company. Alone!"

"But he, alone, made the decision to go ahead and do the Father's will," Francis noted. And the disciples "did not understand: they did other things, they quarrelled among themselves or sought alternatives so as not to think about it". This "loneliness of Jesus sometimes manifests itself: let us remember the time he realised that he was not understood: 'O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long should I stay among you and bear you?'". The Lord, therefore, 'felt this loneliness'.

With this in mind, the Pope suggested 'that today we all take some time to think: Jesus loved us so much and was not understood by his own'. Even 'the relatives, the Gospel says, when they went to see him said: "He is out of his mind, he is out of his mind". It was not understood'. And so, Francis insisted, it is important 'to think of Jesus alone, towards the cross, decisive, in the midst of the incomprehension of his own: to think this and to see Jesus walking decisively towards the cross and to thank him'. To say, in short: 'Thank you Lord because you were obedient, you were courageous; you loved so much, you loved me so much'.

In this way we can "have a conversation with him today: how often do I try to do so many things and not look at you, who did this for me? You who have entered into patience - the patient man, patient God - and with such patience tolerate my sins, my failures?" And so, Francis went on to say, one can "speak to Jesus like this - he is always determined to go ahead, to put his face forward - and thank him".

Therefore, the Pontiff concluded, "let us take some time today, a few minutes - five, ten, fifteen - in front of the crucifix perhaps, or with our imagination see Jesus walking decisively towards Jerusalem and ask for the grace to have the courage to follow him closely."

[Pope Francis, Osservatore Romano, 4 October 2017; homily at St Martha's]

Pentecost Sunday (year A)  [24 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:1–11)

Jerusalem is not only the city where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, but the city where he rose from the dead and where the Spirit was poured out upon humanity. In Christ’s time, the Jewish feast of Pentecost was of the utmost importance because it was the feast of the giving of the Law, one of the three annual feasts for which people made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The list of all the nationalities gathered in Jerusalem for the occasion is proof of this. Jerusalem was therefore teeming with people from all over, thousands of devout Jews, some of whom had travelled from far away. It was the year of Jesus’ death, but who among them knew this? I have deliberately said ‘the death’ of Jesus, without mentioning his resurrection, because for the time being his resurrection was still confidential news. These were people who had come from all over and who had perhaps never even heard of a certain Jesus of Nazareth. 

They came to Jerusalem in the fervour, faith and enthusiasm of a pilgrimage to renew the Covenant with God. For the disciples, however, this feast of Pentecost, fifty days after his resurrection, is unlike any other, for to them nothing is as it was before; yet this does not mean they expect what is about to happen. To help us understand clearly what is happening, Luke recounts it by carefully evoking three passages from the Old Testament: first, the giving of the Law at Sinai; second, a word from the prophet Joel; third, the episode of the Tower of Babel. First, let us begin with Sinai: the tongues of fire at Pentecost, the sound ‘like a mighty wind’, bring to mind what had happened at Sinai, when God gave the tablets of the Law to Moses, as we read in the Book of Exodus (19:16–19). By drawing a parallel with the event at Sinai, Saint Luke wants us to understand that this Pentecost, that year, is much more than a traditional pilgrimage: it is a new Sinai. Just as God had given his Law to his people to teach them how to live within the Covenant, so now God gives his own Spirit to his people. Now God’s Law, which is the only means of living truly free and happy, is no longer written on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, in the heart of man, to borrow an image from Ezekiel. Secondly, Luke wished to evoke a word of the prophet Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (3:1–2), says God; “all flesh” meaning every human being. In Luke’s view, these Jews from every nation under heaven, as he calls them, symbolise the whole of humanity for whom Joel’s prophecy is finally fulfilled. This means that the famous, long-awaited “Day of the Lord” has arrived. Thirdly, we can summarise the story of Babel in two acts: Act 1, all people spoke the same language: they had the same speech and the same words, and they decided to undertake a great project that would mobilise all their energies: the construction of an immense tower. Act 2: God intervenes to put a stop to it: He scatters them across the face of the earth and confuses their languages. From then on, people will no longer understand one another. Unless one wishes to judge God’s intentions, it is impossible to imagine that he acted for any reason other than our happiness. Therefore, if God intervenes, it is to spare humanity a false path: the path of a single mindset, of a single project; something like ‘my children, you seek unity, and that is good; but do not go astray: unity does not lie in uniformity. True unity in love can only be found in diversity’. The account of Pentecost in Luke fits well within the narrative of Babel: at Babel, humanity learns diversity; at Pentecost, it learns unity in diversity: now all the nations under heaven hear the one message proclaimed in their various languages: the wonders of God.

Note: The first reading and the psalm are common to the feasts of Pentecost across the three liturgical years. However, the second reading and the Gospel vary each year.

Responsorial Psalm (103/104)

Read in its entirety, this psalm offers thirty-six verses of pure praise, of wonder at the works of God. It is not surprising that it is proposed to us for the feast of Pentecost, given that Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, recounts that on the morning of Pentecost the Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim the wonders of God in every language. One might observe that to marvel at creation there is no need to have faith, and in every civilisation one finds magnificent poems on the beauties of nature. In Egypt, on the tomb of a Pharaoh, a poem written by the famous Pharaoh Akhenaten was discovered: a hymn to the Sun-God. Amenhotep IV lived around 1350 BC, at a time when the Jews were probably in Egypt and would have known this poem. There are similarities in style and vocabulary between the Pharaoh’s poem and Psalm 103/104. The language of wonder is the same across all latitudes, but what is interesting are the differences, which are the hallmark of the Revelation given to the people of the Covenant. The first difference, and it is essential to the faith of Israel, is that God alone is God; there is no other God but him; and therefore the sun is not a god. The Bible puts the sun and the moon in their place: they are not gods but merely luminaries, creatures themselves: one of the verses of the psalm states this clearly: “You, God, have made the moon to mark the seasons and the sun that knows the hour of its setting.” There are verses not chosen for the feast of Pentecost which clearly present God as the sole Lord of Creation, and a wholly regal vocabulary is used: God is presented as a magnificent, majestic and victorious King. A second distinctive feature of the Bible: creation is only good, and one hears an echo of the poem in Genesis which repeats tirelessly, like a refrain, “And God saw that it was good!”. Psalm 103/104 evokes all the elements of creation with the same wonder: I rejoice in the Lord, and the psalmist adds, in a verse we do not hear this Sunday: “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing hymns to my God as long as I exist…” Yet evil is not ignored: the end of the psalm clearly evokes it and hopes for its disappearance; but the people of the Old Testament had understood that evil is not God’s doing, for the whole of creation is good. And we know that one day God will remove all evil from the earth: the King who triumphs over the elements will overcome everything that stands in the way of human happiness. A third distinctive feature of the faith of Israel: creation is an enduring relationship between the Creator and his creatures. When we say in the Creed, “I believe in God the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth”, we are not merely affirming our faith in an initial act of God, but we acknowledge ourselves to be in a relationship of dependence on him, and the psalm expresses this very well: “All wait for you… Hide your face: they fail; take away their breath: they die and return to their dust. Send forth your Spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” Another distinctive feature of the faith of Israel is that at the summit of creation stands man,  created to be the king of creation, filled with the very breath of God. And this  is what we celebrate at Pentecost: the Spirit of God within us vibrates in his presence, and the psalmist sings, “Let the Lord rejoice in his works… I will rejoice in the Lord.”  Finally, and this is very important, in Israel every reflection on creation is set within the perspective of the Covenant: having experienced God’s work of liberation, they meditated on creation in the light of this experience, and in this psalm we find traces of this: first of all, the name of God used here is the famous four-letter name, YHWH, which we translate as Lord, the revelation of the God of the Covenant.

Furthermore, “Lord, my God, how great you are!” The expression “my God” with the possessive is always a reference to the Covenant, since God’s plan in this Covenant was precisely stated in the formula “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. This promise is fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit “to every person”, as the prophet Joel says. Now, every person is invited to receive the gift of the Spirit to truly become a child of God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (12:3b-7, 12-13)

Paul defines the Church as the place where “to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good”, not therefore for our own vanity, but for the good of all. And it is a free gift for all, just as the members of the body are freely at the service of the whole body. The work of the Spirit in the world resembles an immense mosaic with different pieces held together and united by the invisible action of the Spirit. As communities multiply, the mosaic spreads like wildfire and becomes ever more harmonious. In these communities, Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free men, break down the barriers of prejudice and division, recognising one another as brothers and sisters, members of a single body thanks to the one Baptism that incorporates us all into Christ. Paul certainly had good reasons to insist on unity, for the Christians in Corinth were of such diverse origins—Jews or Gentiles with conflicting sensitivities and religious traditions—and at times the early believers found it difficult to accept the newcomers. To place Jews and pagans on the same religious footing, given the weight that the election of Israel must have carried in Paul’s eyes, was nonetheless very bold! These issues and difficulties, present and highlighted by Paul in the Corinthian community, have not been absent over the centuries and persist even today within the Church. The law that animates believers is always the word of Jesus, who urged the apostles: “You know that the rulers of the nations lord it over them, and the great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” (Mt 20:25–26). Paul sees the Church not as a pyramid, but as a crowd gathered around Jesus Christ, the one Master, and, furthermore, as a living body made up of all the baptised, where those in authority do not view it as superiority, but as a mission in the service of all. Diversity becomes a mutual gift for everyone: “There are different charisms,” observes the Apostle, “and to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” Our differences thus become riches, and it is precisely through them that unity is built—a unity that is never uniformity, or worse, standardisation. Herein lies one of the great messages of Pentecost, where all the different languages come together to sing the same song, “the wonders of God”. Since then, the Church has sought to overcome differences in sensibility by learning to live through the labour of reconciliation, sustained by the Spirit given to us at Pentecost, the Spirit of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. The capacity for reconciliation and mutual respect is a true sign of the Spirit’s action and a witness that the world awaits: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another,” said Jesus at the Last Supper (Jn 13:35). Unity in diversity is a beautiful challenge that we can overcome only because the Spirit has been given to us: the same Spirit, the Spirit of Love that unites the Father and the Son. From the lesson of Babel we understand that unity does not lie in uniformity, and from Pentecost we understand that true unity in love can only be found in diversity and is always a gift of the Spirit and an image on earth of the Trinitarian communion, the perichoresis between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

From the Gospel according to John (20:19–23)

 To impart the Holy Spirit to his disciples, Jesus breathes on them; this brings to mind the famous phrase from the Book of Genesis, chapter 2: ‘The Lord God breathed into the man’s nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being’. And Psalm 103/104, which we also hear on this feast of Pentecost, comments on the text of Creation by singing: Send forth your Spirit, and all things shall be created. Now, it is the evening of Easter and Jesus takes up this gesture of the Creator. We can understand why Saint John notes: “It was the evening of that day, the first of the week”, a way of saying that it is the first day of the new creation. The Jews often recalled the creation that God had accomplished in seven days, as we read in the first chapter of Genesis, and awaited the eighth day, that of the Messiah. In his own way, John tells us: the eighth day has come and it is a true re-creation of humanity. Let us take up three phrases from the account of Pentecost that John offers us here. The first: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”; the second: “He breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit”; and the third: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them”. The first and third phrases express a mission; the second speaks of the gift, namely the Holy Spirit given to fulfil the mission received. And this mission consists in “forgiving sins”. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. Jesus is the one sent by the Father, and we, who are sent by Jesus, have the same mission as him. This speaks to our responsibility, the trust placed in us, and concerns all the baptised, since the Church has always deemed it appropriate to confirm all the baptised. Jesus’ mission, to limit ourselves to the Gospel of John, is to take away the sin of the world, indeed to “eradicate” the sin of the world, being the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sin of the world, as John the Baptist had prophesied. The Lamb, meek and humble of heart in the face of his executioners according to the prophecy of Isaiah 52–53, is the Paschal Lamb, who seals with his life the liberation of God’s people. Beyond the liberation of the chosen people from slavery in Egypt, the Gospel speaks to us of liberation from sin, hatred and violence. Jesus thus presents his mission: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” We must keep these words of the Lord in mind to understand the phrase in today’s text that is not immediately clear: “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; whose sins you do not forgive, they are not forgiven.” Or, according to another version, “Whose sins you remit, they are remitted; whose sins you do not remit, they are not remitted.” The first part of the sentence presents no difficulty, but the second may not be easily understood. It is impossible to think that God, who is Father, could fail to forgive us. The Old Testament had already highlighted that God’s forgiveness even precedes our repentance, for in God forgiveness is not a one-off act but defines his very being. God is gift and forgiveness. The hallmark of mercy is God’s bending down towards the wretched—that is, towards all of us.  The power given to the disciples—indeed, the mission entrusted to them—is to communicate and pass on God’s forgiveness. Consequently, there is the terrible responsibility, expressed in the second part of the sentence, not merely to speak the word of God’s forgiveness, but to do everything possible so that the world does not ignore this forgiveness and thus fall prey to despair. God’s forgiveness, proclaimed through words and concrete actions, makes us ‘living forgiveness’, apostles of Divine Mercy. At Pentecost, God breathes the words of forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit continues to breathe words and gestures of forgiveness into our spirit, making us ‘lambs of God’ with the power to overcome the spiral of hatred and violence. “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” to respond to violence and hatred with non-violence, meekness and forgiveness, thus hastening the arrival of the day when all humanity will live immersed in love and forgiveness: it will be the triumph of Divine Mercy!

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mk 10:28-31)

According to the correct mentality - typical of Judaism - to receive the divine inheritance it was enough to keep the commandments (vv.17-20).

But it is not with security upstream that one can make an exodus to meet the One (v.21) in the heart; nor can the Church stay safe with the material contribution of the rich (v.26).

The path of love and educational risk assume the journey of adventurous sobriety, without which it is not possible to affect the watertight compartments of thought and society.

In contrast to devotions, the life of Faith does not require the offering to God of a modest or resigned sacrifice, but abandonment to future that is to Come.

In this way - by making the disciples abide in the energy of undertaking - the believing experience will no longer leave anyone with their heads bowed. For here the cards are exchanged (v.31).

The Presence of the fraternal and concrete Kingdom - «in the midst» - overturns roles and perspectives, such as habitual positions between women and men, young and old, or new and veterans (v.31).

Inserted in the Church that hears the call to "go out", we stir our Core from the tortuousness of self-folding.

And here is the Father's Hundredfold in all (vv.28-30). Except for one thing: because we are called to be on the same level.

There will be no “hundred for one” of «fathers» [in the ancient sense] that is, of conditioning controllers (vv.29-30) who dictate their track and pace, as if to subordinates.

A life of obligations or attachments blocks creativity. To cling to an idol, to allow oneself to be plagued or intimidated, to anchor oneself in fear of problems or worries, is to create a dark chamber.

To feel programmable, already designed without an extra... to be subjected to ordinary or conformist opinions... excludes the vector of the unknown and all-personal Novelty.

He who allows himself to be inhibited by exclusive ethics, by having to be with himself and others according to clichés of established prestige and so on, builds an artificial dwelling, which is neither his ‘home’ nor the ‘tent of the world’.

And although in the step of the mission, even speculating that we can foresee fruitful eccentricities or global adventures, we shrivel our souls, we are frightened of possible conflicts.

But in fear we do not grasp what is truly ‘ours and others': what is only revealed during a process, which becomes holy in the exodus from self and in the quality of creative relationships.

After all, behind the reluctance ‘to be’ in Christ and in relationships that go beyond what is due and already thought, lies nothing more than the fear of losing the attention of others or one's reputation.

But along the Way, one has an intimate experience of a different Switch within, which helps us express ourselves and deal with events where not everything is already 'in place'.

Thus, by laying aside step by step the fears of being shouted at, and that life might collapse [precisely because of our ideal choices].

Away with the behind-the-scenes.

It is the new Genesis under a new and unknown stimulus that allows attention to be shifted from calculation to the brightness of the heart, from the brain to the eye, from reasoning to perception.

Once the artificial ties of wanting to come to head of situations [prematurely and necessarily] are removed, we will learn to embrace all sides, and life will go its own way, expanding from wave to wave.

We are no longer minors: we have full Hope - not moderate.

[Tuesday 8th wk. in O.T.  May 26, 2026]

(Mk 10:28-31)

According to correct mentality - typical in Judaism - to receive the divine inheritance it was enough to keep the commandments (vv.17-20).

Jesus' proposal does not focus on the exchange of "favours" (Pharisaic automatism): it has breath, and rests on gratuitousness; it helps freedom - it is broader, without ballast.

Therefore, lean towards ecclesial poverty. Both the affluent and the apostles' conviction must be freed from the idol of opulence - an even more swampy force than guilt.

The Gospel passage itself is a sign that the "internal" mentality of the communities had to be straightened out, even back then.

It is not with security upstream that one can exodus - to meet the One (v.21) in the heart. Nor can the Church stay safe with the material contribution of the rich (v.26).

The path of love and the educational risk presuppose the path of adventurous sobriety, without which it is not possible to impact the watertight compartments of thought and society.

In contrast to devotions, the life of Faith does not require the offering of a modest or resigned sacrifice to God, but abandonment to the coming future.

Even as a matter of crude substance, it will force us to shift our gaze - and reactivate it incessantly.

Thus making the disciples abide in the energy of undertaking will finally leave no one with bowed heads. For here the cards are exchanged (v.31).

He does not want to rob us of anything: his friendly Presence is a consistent ferment, which wants to realise the absolute in each of us.

Detachment from things to expand and rejoice in the quality of the journey is the seed of a new sacredness, of another face of humanity and the world.

The concrete existence that flows from the proposal of Faith surpasses every religious model. He even extends the community, creating Family without boundaries - all brothers and sisters, no leaders for life.

We are no longer minors: we have full Hope - not moderate.

Only the sharing of goods will stand: fruit of providence and systematic gift - and there will be no needy, rather it will advance for others (an ideal already of Deut 15 - with no more cultural fences).

And no calculations of reciprocation: because there is no starting point for selfishness or for the profit of clubs with nice manners (and greedy possession).

Of course, Christ will be the choice of the poor, who have always dreamed of a reversal of the pyramid (v.31).

At the time of Jesus, people's lives were in fact marked - trait by trait - by dual subjugation: Herod's politics and religious slavery.

The system of exploitation and repression was widespread and well organised.

Even the religious authorities had cunningly found a remunerative modus vivendi well established in the ganglia of the empire.

All this at the cost of the disintegration of community and family life (facets of the ancient clan communion, now harassed by problems of material survival and increased individualism).

In a context of social collapse, many were forced to get by in a discarded and excluded condition.

But in the assemblies of Jesus, the attitude of inclusion towards the marginalised, weak and shaky characterised them and made them stand out (gradually preferred) against all other groups.

At that time, there was no lack of various sects - even well-motivated ones - that wished to show an alternative model of life to the ruthlessness of the current reality.

However, e.g. the Essenes were legalists and purists, and lived apart; so did the Pharisees - observant people bound even to oral tradition - who abhorred 'defiled' people.

The Zealots also resented the weak and indecisive, voiceless crowd.

Those considered ignorant and cursed (for not being able to fulfil the prescriptions of the law) and valued in sin, were conversely welcome in Christian communities.

Precisely the weightless - endowed with little energy and relationships - forcibly excluded from the clan because of economic necessity, found there at last refuge, warmth, listening, understanding, help.

The Master himself had explicitly ordered anti-ambition and personal dispossession in favour of the sick and weak; of all those who were left behind.

Simplicity in life went hand in hand with sobriety in mission.

In fact, the Lord advised the envoys to witness radical confidence in hospitality (offered by so many new 'family members').

Sense of adaptation and measure, ability to live in the essentials and be content, were the indispensable character of evangelisation.

True witnesses of Christ, even today and as time passes, feel content in the temporary - typical of pilgrims. They did not covet better future accommodations, passing from house to house (Mk 6:10).

In all this, and in being able to adapt to the situations and normal rewards of local work, believers demonstrate the Presence of the fraternal Kingdom.It is a concrete reality and "in between": in fact, it makes itself equidistant; it overturns roles - and optics, such as habitual positions between women and men, young and old, or new and old (v.31).

Of course, change can be frightening, but inserted in the fraternity that hears the call to "go out", we take the leash off situations and stir souls from the tortuousness of retreats.

And here is the Father's hundredfold in everything (vv.28-30). Except for one thing: because we are called to be on an equal footing.

There will be no hundred to one of "fathers" (in the ancient sense), i.e., of conditioning controllers (vv.29-30) who dictate their track and pace, as to subordinates.

Then we sit in our Centre, not because we are identified in the standard habitual role, but chiselled in an amazing way by the facets of the Mystery it touches, starting from within.

And turn everything upside down.

A life of attachments blocks creativity. To cling to an idol, to allow oneself to be plagued or intimidated, to anchor oneself in fear of problems or worries is like creating a dark room.

Feeling programmable, already designed without a more... subjugating ordinary or conformist views... excludes the vector of the unknown and all-personal Novelty.

Those who allow themselves to be inhibited by exclusive ethics, by having to be with themselves and others according to clichés of established prestige and so on, build an artificial dwelling, which is neither their home nor the tent of the world.

And while in the pass of the mission, even conjuring up fruitful eccentricities or global adventures, we shrink back, afraid of possible conflicts.

But in fear we do not grasp what is truly ours and others': what is only revealed during a process, which becomes holy in the exodus from self and in the quality of creative relationships.

As Pope Francis said in Dublin: "Docile to the Spirit and not based on tactical plans" that block life.

After all, behind the reluctance to be in Christ and in relationships that go beyond what is due and already thought, lies nothing more than the fear of losing the attention of others or reputation.

But for Via, it is an intimate experience of a different 'switch' inside, which helps us express ourselves and face events where not everything is already in place. 

We lay step by step the fears of being scolded, and that life (precisely because of our ideal choices) might collapse.

Away with the behind-the-scenes.

It is the new genesis under a new and unknown stimulus that allows us to shift attention from calculation to the brightness of the soul, from the brain to the eye, from reasoning to perception.

Once we have removed the artificial ties of wanting to come to the head of situations prematurely and by force, we learn to welcome all sides, and life will go its own way, expanding from wave to wave.

At this point, my mind goes back to 22 October 1978, when Pope John Paul II began his ministry here in Saint Peter’s Square. His words on that occasion constantly echo in my ears: “Do not be afraid! Open wide the doors for Christ!” The Pope was addressing the mighty, the powerful of this world, who feared that Christ might take away something of their power if they were to let him in, if they were to allow the faith to be free. Yes, he would certainly have taken something away from them: the dominion of corruption, the manipulation of law and the freedom to do as they pleased. But he would not have taken away anything that pertains to human freedom or dignity, or to the building of a just society. The Pope was also speaking to everyone, especially the young. Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? And once again the Pope said: No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily for the beginning of the ministry, 24 April 2005]