This way means entering through a door. But where is the door? Who is the door? Jesus himself is that door. He says so in the Gospel of John: “I am the door” (10:9). He leads us to communion with the Father, where we find love, understanding and protection. But why is this door narrow, one might ask? Why does he say it is narrow? It is a narrow door not because it is oppressive, but because it demands that we restrain and limit our pride and our fear, in order to open ourselves to Him with humble and trusting hearts, acknowledging that we are sinners and in need of his forgiveness. This is why it is narrow, to limit our pride, which swells us. The door of God’s mercy is narrow but is always open to everyone! God does not have preferences, but always welcomes everyone, without distinction. A narrow door to restrain our pride and our fear; a door open wide because God welcomes us without distinction. And the salvation that He gives us is an unending flow of mercy that overcomes every barrier and opens surprising perspectives of light and peace. The door is narrow but always open wide: do not forget this.

Once more, Jesus extends a pressing invitation to us today to go to Him, to pass through the door of a full, reconciled and happy life. He awaits each one of us, no matter what sins we have committed, to embrace us, to offer us his forgiveness. He alone can transform our hearts, He alone can give full meaning to our existence, giving us true joy. By entering Jesus’ door, the door of faith and of the Gospel, we can leave behind worldly attitudes, bad habits, selfishness and narrow-mindedness. When we encounter the love and mercy of God, there is authentic change. Our lives are enlightened by the light of the Holy Spirit: an inextinguishable light!

I would like to propose something to you. Let us think now for a moment, in silence, of the things that we have inside us which prevent us from entering the door: my pride, my arrogance, my sins. Then, let us think of the other door, the one opened wide by the mercy of God who awaits us on the other side to grant us forgiveness.

The Lord offers us many opportunities to be saved and to enter through the door of salvation. This door is an occasion that can never be wasted: we don’t have to give long, erudite speeches about salvation, like the man who approached Jesus in the Gospel. Rather, we have to accept the opportunity for salvation. Because at a certain moment, the master of the house will rise and shut the door (cf. Lk 13:25), as the Gospel reminded us. But if God is good and loves us, why would he close the door at a certain point? Because our life is not a video game nor a television soap opera. Our life is serious and our goal is important: eternal salvation.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 21 August 2016]

Prophetic ardour, Salvation that doesn’t repeat

(Lk 1:57-66.80)

Salvation - the cue for a full existence - runs through increasingly vast spaces and breaks into in a peremptory way, without ever repeating itself.

It doesn’t ask for authoritative permits, nor does it wait for a beautiful swept and adorned dwelling.

It even enters the House (Israel) in which nothing was done but to commemorate, with no possibility of renewal and progress.

It transforms it, though scented with incense and pureness.

In that context, unfortunately, the Waiting had become a habit [to wait] that no longer expected anything.

The announcement of the new times, conversely, arouses contagious joys, a desire to make and affect the ancient habitual enclosure - in all aspects of mentality, suddenly no longer compliant.

Change ushers in an era of redemption: concretely, a life as people saved.

Trajectory now able to open loop holes on the great wall of conventions that bridle the freedom to be and to do.

Zechariah [«God makes memory»: the usual God and the usual memory] generates a Promise that is being fulfilled before the eyes.

Word-event that really visits the people - here and now, every dawn - imposing the «none of your kinship» (v.61) ie of the custom: here is Johanan [«God has made Grace»].

The Merciful Living One is no longer exactly that of the bloody and propitiatory cults at the Temple - but of the perspectives, of the deployed horizons. 

You find lightness. No conditioning blockage, no guilt sense for having diverted. In His proposals for dilated life, He is and remains «Favourable».

The Name to be imposed by ancient tradition conveyed a culture and a role (even) with sacred accents, reassuring.

By changing it, destiny is modified. Thus we doesn’t fall into a garment, in a part to be recited; we grasp the essence of the expected Face.

The Eternal is not the One who invites to a series of identified roles to trace without respite: his unconditional initiatives offer every day a decisive field’s opening.

The Most High creates, and calls for development, for the better and further: the categories of possibilities are overflown!

The ancient barriers between Heaven and Earth, between Tradition and Manifestation, are about to fall in favor of a world prone to life.

Redemption begins to make sparks with textbook choices: they can't stand each other anymore.

Even in our journey, accepting different horizons from the expected we allow the divine soul of salvation history to visit us.

This is so that the essence of our deep states detaches itself from the common judgment, and re-tunses on how much is still Unknown but we feel it belongs to us.

In each shift of gaze we will find another cosmos, a discreet, reserved Beauty - in which the Secret for each is nestled, a stage of complete realization for all.

Fulfilment is now «fortified in Spirit and in deserts» instead of according to manners and measure - in special places (v.80) from which one can push oneself out, even irregularly.

[Nativity of st. John the Baptist, June 24, 2024]

Prophetic Ardour, Salvation that does not repeat

(Lk 1:57-66.80)

The new Creation announced in the periphery invests the territory that still hesitates over what is certified, proven and reassuring - because it is considered (around) pure and quoted.

Salvation - the cue for a full existence - travels ever wider spaces and breaks through in a peremptory manner, without ever repeating itself.

It does not ask for authoritative permission, nor does it wait for a beautifully swept and adorned dwelling.

It even enters the House (Israel) in which it did nothing but commemorate, with no possibility of renewal and progress.

He transforms it, albeit already perfumed with incense and purity.

In that sphere, unfortunately, the Waiting had turned into a habit [of waiting] that was no longer waiting for anything. One just held back, without much expectation.

On the contrary, the announcement of the new times arouses contagious joy, a desire to do and break the old habitual enclosure - in all aspects of mentality, suddenly no longer conforming.

The change ushers in an era of redemption: concretely, a life of the saved.

A trajectory now able to open up gaps in the great wall of conventions that bridle the freedom to be and to do.

Zechariah ["God makes memory": the usual God and memory] generates a Promise that is being fulfilled before our eyes.

Word-event that really visits the people - here and now, every dawn - imposing the "none of your kinship" (v.61) i.e. the custom - even priestly: here is Johanan ["God made Grace"].

The merciful Living One is no longer exactly that of the bloody and propitiatory cults in the Temple, but of perspectives, of unfolding horizons. 

One finds lightness. No conditioning blocks, no guilt for deviating. In His proposals of expanded life, He is and remains "Favourable".

The Name to be imposed by ancient custom conveyed a culture and a role (even) with sacred, reassuring veins.

Changing it changes destiny. One does not cast oneself in a robe, in a part to be played; one grasps the essence of the awaited Face.

The Eternal One is not the One who invites a series of pious and archaic identified ritual customs, to be followed relentlessly. His unconditional initiatives provide a decisive opening of the field every day.

The Most High creates and calls for development, for the best and the further super-eminent: the categories of possibility are surpassed!

The ancient barriers between Heaven and Earth, between Tradition and Manifestation, are about to fall, in favour of a world inclined to life.

Redemption begins to spark with textbook choices.

Writes the Tao Tê Ching (xix), which deems the most celebrated virtues external: 

"Teach that there is more to stick to: show yourself simple and keep yourself raw".

Master Wang Pi comments: 'Formal qualities are totally insufficient'.

And Master Ho-shang Kung adds: 'Forget the regular and the creation of saints, return to what was at the Beginning'.

Even on our path, by accepting horizons other than the expected, we allow the divine soul of salvation history to visit us.

This is so that the essence of our deepest states can detach itself from common judgement, and re-tune to what is still Unknown rather than useful - but we feel belongs to us.

In each shift of gaze we find another cosmos, a discreet, reserved Beauty.

It leads back to our natural Core, to the Calling by Name in which lurks the Secret for each one, and a stage of full realisation for all.

The Fulfillment is now "fortified in Spirit and in deserts" instead of according to custom, measured - in the deputed places of the priestly liturgy (v.80) from which one must push oneself out, even irregularly.

To internalise and live the message:

How many times have you heard that you are not doing well?

How do you realise the timing of God's change?

What astonishment have you experienced in your spiritual journey?

What difference have you measured against your expectations and intentions?

How do you plan to build your dignity as an outrider?

What principle of discernment is used in your community? Do you start from your unrepeatable Vocation or is there an addictive and homologising cliché, other names that you have to repeat and copy?

"What do you think he will become, this son of mine?" [by Teresa Girolami]

Today's Gospel presents us with the birth of John, the prophet of Christ, and the amazement of onlookers:

"What shall this child be? And indeed the hand of the Lord was with him" (Lk 1:66).

In the life of Francis, from his birth, a visible sign of God's predilection was manifested on him and his mother Mona Pica.

The Sources make this clear:

"In fact, she was made to share, as a privilege, a certain resemblance to the ancient Saint Elizabeth, both by the name imposed on her son and also by the prophetic spirit.When neighbours expressed their admiration for Francis' generosity of spirit and moral integrity she would repeat, almost divinely inspired:

"What do you think he will become, this son of mine? Know, that by his merits he will become a son of God'.

Indeed, this was also the opinion of others, who appreciated Francis as already grown up for some of his very good inclinations.

He shunned anything that might sound offensive to anyone and, growing up with a gentle spirit, he did not appear to be a son of those who were called his parents.

Therefore the name of John is appropriate to the mission he then carried out, that of Francis to his fame, which soon spread everywhere after his full conversion to God.

Above the feast of any other saint, he held that of John the Baptist to be most solemn, whose distinguished name had imprinted in his soul a sign of arcane power.

Among those born of women there arose none greater than this, and none more perfect than this among the founders of religious orders. It is a coincidence worthy of note' (FF 583).

[Teresa Girolami].

According to which image and likeness?

Our gaze goes to Giulio Romano's painting above the high altar of this church: it shows the Holy Family, with John the Baptist still a child, the Apostle James and the Evangelist Mark, the latter already adults.

The Baptist briskly points with his left hand to the Child Jesus, depicted in his infantile weakness. To the question of the relatives and neighbours of Elizabeth and Zechariah: "What is to become of this child?" the painting seems to give us this answer: John the Baptist points with all his attitude to Jesus to the visitor James who is close to him; he bows deeply in the awareness of his littleness: I am not worthy to untie the strap of the sandal to him who comes after me, but who is before me. This word has nothing to do with false humility. The Baptist is too upright, too sober for that. He certainly recognised human helplessness better than most men.

The preacher of penitence who questions men in their innermost being, who shakes them out of their certainties and transforms them, who snatches them from the superficiality of a purely earthly materialistic attitude, still belongs to the Old Covenant, he is just the one who points the way to the Kingdom of God; and this Kingdom of God is near, one hears the voice of the one who calls in the wilderness. The Baptist's humility is authentic. But God exalted the littleness of the Baptist with the greatness of the task entrusted to him; indeed, he had already exalted him in his mother's womb: before he was even born, he was in fact already 'reborn' by the Spirit of Christ. Human greatness is nothing compared to the smallness that is called to participate in the greatness and holiness of God.

For us priests, John is a model. He seeks nothing for himself, but everything for the one he now points to. The child already represents in a certain way the word transmitted to us in the fourth Gospel: "He must increase and I must decrease" (John 3: 30). John was to lead men to Jesus and bear witness [...].

John and the story of his life are like a slide on which a name and a truth are indicated. It remains dark until a source of light is lit behind it. Thus says the Gospel of John: 'He was not the light, but he was to bear witness to the light' (John 1: 8). The light of God is decisive in his life and mission. By its light we become seers, to recognise God's will. This is often contrary to our desires and our own will. When it came to naming the newborn John at his circumcision, tradition was decisive: he would receive his father's name. But Elisabeth decided otherwise. She knew God's will and gave the child the name 'John', which means 'God is merciful'.

Why should it have been so only then?

We can all experience the power and goodness of God in our lives when we trust in him and strive earnestly to do his will. But this requires from us humility and the realisation that man does not possess the measure of all things. We cannot see ourselves as the yardstick of every thought, every morality and every right. We too easily succumb to the belief that everything can be made, heaven as well as earth, indeed man himself, according to our own image and likeness.

[Pope John Paul II, S. Maria dell'Anima homily 24 June 1990].

“All four Gospels place the figure of John the Baptist at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry and they reveal him as the one who prepared the way for Jesus. St Luke presents the connection between the two figures and their respective missions at an earlier stage.... Even in conception and birth, Jesus and John are linked together” (Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives, p. 14).

This setting helps us to realize that John, as the son of Zechariah and Elizabeth, both from priestly families, is not only the last of the prophets but also represents the entire priesthood of the Old Covenant and thus prepares people for the spiritual worship of the New Covenant inaugurated by Jesus (cf. ibid., pp. 18-19). In addition, Luke discredits all the mythical interpretations that are often made of the Gospels, by putting the Baptist’s life in its historical context and by writing: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor... in the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas” (Lk 3:1-2). The great event, the birth of Christ, which his contemporaries did not even notice, fits into this historical framework. For God the great figures of history serve as a frame for the lowly!

John the Baptist is described as “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way for the Lord, make his paths straight” (Lk 3:4). The voice proclaims the word, but in this case the Word of God comes first, since the word of God came to John, the son of Zechariah, in the wilderness (cf. Lk 3:2). He therefore plays an important role but always in terms of Christ. St Augustine comments: “John is the voice, but the Lord is the Word who was in the beginning (cf. Jn 1:1). John is the voice that lasts for a time; from the beginning Christ is the Word who lives for ever. Take away the word, the meaning, and what is the voice? Where there is no understanding, there is only a meaningless sound. The voice without the word strikes the ear but does not build up the heart” (In ev. Johannis tractatus 293, 3: pl 38, 1328).

Today it is up to us to listen to that voice so as to make room for Jesus, the Word who saves us, and to welcome him into our hearts. Let us prepare ourselves in this Season of Advent to see, with the eyes of faith in the humble Grotto of Bethlehem, God’s salvation (cf. Lk 3:6). In the consumer society in which we are tempted to seek joy in things, the Baptist teaches us to live in an essential manner, so that Christmas may be lived not only as an external feast, but as the feast of the Son of God who came to bring men and women peace, life and true joy.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 December 2012]

The particular circumstances of John's birth have been handed down to us by the evangelist Luke. According to an ancient tradition, it took place in Ain-Karim, before the gates of Jerusalem. The circumstances surrounding this birth were so unusual that even at that time people were asking: "What is this child to be?" (Lk 1:66). It was evident to his believing parents, neighbours and relatives that his birth was a sign from God. They clearly saw that the "hand of the Lord" was upon him. This was already demonstrated by the announcement of his birth to his father Zechariah, while he was providing priestly service in the temple in Jerusalem. His mother, Elisabeth, was already advanced in years and was thought to be barren. Even the name 'John' he was given was unusual for his environment. His father himself had to give orders that he be called "John" and not, as everyone else wanted, "Zechariah" (cf. Lk 1:59-63).

The name John means in the Hebrew language "God is merciful". Thus already in the name is expressed the fact that the newborn child would one day announce God's plan of salvation.

The future would fully confirm the predictions and events surrounding his birth: John, son of Zechariah and Elisabeth, became the "voice of one crying out in the wilderness" (Matt 3:3), who on the banks of the Jordan called people to penance and prepared the way for Christ.

Christ himself said of John the Baptist that "among those born of women no greater one has arisen" (cf. Mt 11:11). That is why the Church has also reserved a special veneration for this great messenger of God from the very beginning. An expression of this veneration is today's feast.

4. Dear brothers and sisters! This celebration, with its liturgical texts, invites us to reflect on the question of man's becoming, his origins and his destination. True, we already seem to know a great deal about this subject, both from mankind's long experience and from ever more in-depth biomedical research. But it is the word of God that always re-establishes the essential dimension of the truth about man: man is created by God and willed by God in his image and likeness. No purely human science can demonstrate this truth. At most it can come close to this truth or intuitively surmise the truth about this 'unknown being' that is man from the moment of his conception in the womb.

At the same time, however, we find ourselves witnessing how, in the name of a supposed science, man is 'reduced' in a dramatic trial and represented in a sad simplification; and so it happens that even those rights that are based on the dignity of his person, which distinguishes him from all the other creatures of the visible world, are overshadowed. Those words from the book of Genesis, which speak of man as the creature created in the image and likeness of God, highlight, in a concise yet profound way, the full truth about him.

5. We can also learn this truth about man from today's liturgy, in which the Church prays to God, the creator, in the words of the psalmist:

"Lord, you scrutinise me and know me . . . 

It is you who created my bowels 

and wove me in my mother's womb . . . 

you know me to the depths. 

When I was formed in secret . . . 

my bones were not hidden from you . . . 

I praise thee, for thou hast made me as a prodigy' (Ps 139 [138], 1. 13-15).

Man therefore is aware of what he is - of what he is from the beginning, from the womb. He knows that he is a creature that God wants to meet and with whom he wants to dialogue. What is more: in man, he wants to meet the whole of creation.

For God, man is a 'someone': unique and unrepeatable. He, as the Second Vatican Council says, "on earth is the only creature that God willed for itself" (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 24).

"The Lord from my mother's womb has called me; from my mother's womb he has pronounced my name" (Is 49:1); like the name of the child who was born in Ain-Karim: "John". Man is that being whom God calls by name. For God he is the created 'you', of all creatures he is that personal 'I', who can address God and call him by name. God wants that partner in man who addresses him as his own creator and Father: 'You, my Lord and my God'. To the divine "you".

6. Dear brothers and sisters! How do we men respond to this call of God? How does the man of today understand his life? In no other age have so many efforts been made through technology and medicine to safeguard human life against disease, to prolong it ever longer and to save it from death. At the same time, however, no other age has produced so many places and so many methods of contempt and destruction of man as ours. The bitter experiences of our century with the death machines of two world wars, the persecution and destruction of entire groups of men because of their ethnic or religious affiliation, the atomic arms race to the extreme, the helplessness of men in the face of great misery in many parts of the earth may lead us to doubt, if not even to deny, God's affection and love for man and for the whole of creation.

Or is it not rather the case that we should ask ourselves the question in reverse, when we consider the terrible events that have befallen the world because of mankind, and in the face of the manifold threats of our time: has man not turned away from God, who is his origin, and raised himself up as the centre and standard of his own life? Do you not think that in the experiments being conducted on man, experiments that contradict his dignity, in the mental attitude of many towards abortion and euthanasia, a worrying loss of respect for life is expressed? Is it not evident, even in your society, when one looks at the lives of many - characterised by inner emptiness, fear and flight - that man himself has severed his roots? Are not sex, alcohol and drugs to be understood as warning signals? Do they not indicate, perhaps, a great loneliness in today's man, a longing for care, a hunger for love that a world turned in on itself cannot quench?

In fact, when man is no longer connected to his root, which is God, he becomes impoverished of inner values and gradually becomes subservient to various threats. History teaches us that men and peoples who believe they can exist without God are invariably doomed to the catastrophe of self-destruction. The poet Ernst Wiechert expressed it in this sentence: 'Be assured that no one will fall out of this world who has not first fallen out of God'.

On the contrary, from a living relationship with God, man acquires an awareness of the uniqueness and value of his own life and personal consciousness. In his concretely lived life, he knows that he is called, supported and spurred on by God. Despite injustice and personal suffering, he understands that his life is a gift; he is grateful for it and knows that he is responsible for it before God. In this way, God becomes for man a source of strength and confidence, and at this source man can make his life worthy and also know how to generously put it at the service of his brothers and sisters.

7. God called John the Baptist already "in the womb" so that he might become "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness" and thus prepare the way for his Son. In a very similar way, God has also "laid his hand" on each one of us. For each of us he has a particular call, each of us is entrusted with a task designed by him for us.

In each call, which may come to us in the most diverse way, we hear that divine voice, which then spoke through John: "Prepare the way of the Lord!" (Matt 3:3).

Every man should ask himself in what way he can contribute within the scope of his work and position, to open the way for God in this world. Every time we open ourselves to God's call, we prepare, like John, the way of the Lord among men.

[Pope John Paul II, 24 June 1988]

Today’s liturgy invites us to celebrate the feast of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist. His birth is the event which illuminates the life of his parents, Elizabeth and Zechariah, and engages his kindred and neighbours in joy and wonder. These elderly parents had dreamed and even prepared for that day, but they were no longer expecting it: they felt excluded, humiliated, disappointed: they were childless. Faced with the announcement of the birth of a son (cf. Lk 1:13), Zechariah was incredulous because the laws of nature did not allow it. They were old, they were elderly. Consequently, the Lord rendered him mute for the entire gestation period (cf. v. 20). It was a sign. But God does not rely on our reasoning and our limited human abilities. We must learn to trust and be silent before the mystery of God and to contemplate, with humility and silence, his work which is revealed in history and often exceeds our imagination.

And now that the event comes to pass, now that Elizabeth and Zechariah experience that “with God nothing will be impossible” (Lk 1:37), their joy is great. Today’s Gospel reading (Lk 1:57-66, 80) announces the birth and then pauses on the moment of the bestowal of the child’s name. Elizabeth chooses a name that is foreign to her family’s tradition and says: “he shall be called John” (v. 60): a freely given and, by then, an unexpected gift, because John means “God has given grace”. And this child will be a herald, a witness to God’s grace for the poor who, with humble faith, await his salvation. Zechariah unexpectedly confirms the choice of that name by writing it on a tablet — because he was mute —, and “immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he spoke, blessing God” (v. 64).

The entire event of the birth of John the Baptist is surrounded by a joyous sense of wonder, surprise and gratitude. Wonder, surprise, gratitude. The people are filled with a holy fear of God “and all these things were talked about through all the hill country of Judea” (v. 65). Brothers and sisters, the faithful people sense that something great has occurred, even though it is humble and hidden, and they ask themselves: “What then will this child be?” (v. 66). The faithful People of God are able to live the faith with joy, with a sense of wonder, of surprise and of gratitude. We see those people who spoke well about this marvelous thing, this miracle of John’s birth, and they did so with joy, they were happy, with a sense of wonder, surprise and gratitude. And looking at this, let us ask ourselves: how is my faith? Is it a joyous faith or is it a faith that is always the same, a ‘dull’ faith? Do I feel a sense of wonder when I see the Lord’s works, when I hear about evangelization or the life of a saint, or when I see many good people do I feel the grace within, or does nothing move in my heart? Am I able to feel the Spirit’s consolation or am I closed off? Let us ask ourselves, each of us, in an examination of conscience: How is my faith? Is it joyful? Is it open to God’s surprises? Because God is the God of surprises. Have I ‘tasted’ in my soul that sense of wonder which the presence of God brings, that sense of gratitude? Let us think about these words which are the moods of faith: joy, a sense of wonder, a sense of surprise and gratitude.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to understand that in each human person there is the imprint of God, the source of life. May she, Mother of God and our Mother, make us more aware that in having children parents are acting as God’s assistants. It is a mission that is truly sublime, which makes each family a shrine of life, and it — each child’s birth — awakens joy, wonder and gratitude.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 24 June 2018]

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time B (23.06.2024)

1. The Lord began to speak to Job in the midst of the hurricane. This is how the first reading begins, taken from the book of Job, which does not pretend to tell the real story of a man, but is rather a sapiential reflection on the great dramas and tragedies of man and humanity. The Jewish people knew that the universal flood destroyed everything and later experienced drought, the harshness of the desert, and therefore knew what it means to suffer hunger, thirst and disease. Presenting God as the one who rules the waters, the winds and nature becomes a symbolic way of proclaiming Israel's faith in divine omnipotence. We even read here that God speaks in the midst of the hurricane, an even more incisive way of saying that the Lord alone is the being who dominates the storm to such an extent that he becomes its spokesman. Job's troubled story invites us to consider that in the life of every person all kinds of upheavals can occur; in one way or another we all have to come to terms with the problem of evil in its various forms: physical, moral, social and spiritual suffering, loneliness, failure of every dream and project, injustice and exploitation, despair and death. The temptation of mistrust led people, as it does us too, to hold God guilty of evil because it is not enough to be a good and religious person, like Job a righteous man and faithful to God, to be spared of it. Experience shows that everyone can suddenly experience disasters and misfortunes of all kinds, just as happened to Job: the tragic end of his children, the blackest misery and the sudden loss of everything he owned, and, as if that were not enough, the illness that reduced him to a revolting human larva. It is in the midst of this existential travail that Job questions God as to the reason for the suffering that befalls a good person like him. And he receives an articulate answer from the Lord, of which today's biblical text relates to us only the beginning: an answer that takes the form of a long discourse that is well worth rereading in its entirety in the book of Job. God, in a gentle and quiet, but firm and decisive manner puts man in his place: you are not the creator of the world, nor are you the ruler of every natural phenomenon, nor are you the one who ensures food for the animals and their reproduction. Do not forget, then, that the life of every human being is in God's hands, but this absolute power of his over everything does not serve to prove and exalt his omnipotence, but rather tends to arouse man's confidence because nothing escapes God even when we find ourselves in the midst of misfortune. In short, those who wrote this Old Testament book want to encourage us not to despair when we feel powerless in the face of tragic unforeseen events because even when everything collapses, we always remain in the arms of a God who is Father. No matter how violent the storms may become, he will never let us succumb to evil. Job's lesson is an invitation to put our trust in God at all times, with patience and perseverance.

2. The theme of the first reading is taken up by the gospel page that closes with this question: "Who is this then, that even the wind and the sea obey him?". The evangelist Mark shows the contrast between the violence of the storm that threatens to submerge the boat, the fright of the disciples who wake up the Master worried, and the calmness of Jesus who, awakened from sleep, with a simple intervention resolves everything. In fact, he commands the sea and the wind: "Be quiet, calm down!" and immediately restores calm. If it is true that the entire gospel of Mark tends to offer the answer to the question: "Who is the Christ?", in today's passage we find the answer because it invites us to reflect that the reason why Jesus has power over creation by calming the fury of the waters and the wind, lies in the fact that he is God, the same God who, as we read in the first reading, limited the space of the waters, made the clouds his garment and blocked the arrogance of the waves of the sea by placing the forces of nature at the service of his people. At the same time that the disciples ask themselves the question of who this man is who dominates the violence of the waters, they also give themselves the answer: he is God's envoy and, precisely for this reason, as the evangelist emphasises, from being terrified by the storm they are then filled with wonder at the calm miraculously restored. What is most surprising in this text, however, is not the disciples' fear of the storm's fury and then the fear they feel before the one they recognise as God's envoy, but rather the question Jesus asks them: "Do you still have no faith?" We are surprised that Jesus asks the disciples this question. Realising our helplessness before certain trials and difficulties that surprise us and being afraid is quite normal. Jesus' question invites us to go further: when we are overwhelmed by something absolutely shocking that puts our life in crisis, how do we react? What is our attitude in the face of storms that suddenly turn the world upside down? Like the apostles, it is natural to cry out: Master we are lost and what are you doing, you are asleep and do not care about us? The evangelist Mark wants to warn us against the risk of falling into the temptation of interpreting God's frequent silence before what makes us suffer as a sign of his indifference and abandonment. On the contrary, the gospel wants to warn us against the risk of discouragement and invites us not to be afraid because God, in spite of everything, can do everything and bring us back to calm. He also reveals the secret to us: he assures us that everything is possible if, like him, we trust in our heavenly Father, the only one who can make us able to command the stormy sea and calm the raging wind. 

Let us try to reflect: "is not our feeling of helplessness in the face of difficulties already the sign of a lack of faith"? We certainly should not take our dreams as reality and believe ourselves omnipotent in God's way because everyday reality leads us back to our human limitation. However, it is a matter of growing in faith, that is, maintaining the trust that in Jesus all things are possible to us, including dominating the power of nature and the violence of evil. Such trust pacifies the heart and opens it to new horizons of hope even when we remain in the darkness of problems.

3. Here is the good news: with the advent of Jesus, a new world is born and nothing remains as before. In the Garden of Eden God commanded Adam and Eve to work and subdue the earth, and it was not a mere figure of speech, but God's plan that will be fully realised in Jesus. And Christ before his ascension says to the apostles: "All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations": he entrusts the entire planet to his disciples (Mt 28:19). Now, as St Paul states in today's second reading, the love of Christ possesses us and nothing more can separate us from this love in which we were immersed on the day of our baptism. St Paul goes on to explain: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; old things have passed away; behold, new things have come into being" (2 Cor 5:14-17). With Christ the new world is born: we are no longer in the world of the first creation, but must enter the world of Christ's resurrection. Baptism makes us new humanity called to live in the risen Christ an existence of solidarity, justice and sharing in the service of our brothers and sisters, imitating the Master who came not to be served but to serve. This newness of life, however, demands that we remain grafted into Christ in order to become 'new' persons, that is, renewed, and ready to face the battles against violence, injustice and hatred, which disfigure the face of humanity, counting on the power of divine love. May the Lord help us to consistently realise this Christian vocation of ours, so that, like St Paul, we may be able to affirm that it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us, and consequently be ready to run "with perseverance in the race that lies ahead, keeping our gaze fixed on Jesus, the one who gives origin to faith and brings it to fulfilment" (Heb.: 12, 2). Ultimately, if we want to be consistent with our faith to the end, the word impossible is not part of the vocabulary of Christians, because everything is possible to God: is this not the real challenge for our faith?

+Giovanni D'Ercole

(Mk 4:35-41)

The whole Gospel of Mk is an articulated answer to the question: ‘who is Jesus?’ (v.41). His direction of travel seems to the wrong direction, and brazenly breaks the rules accepted by all.

While the disciples caressed nationalist desires, the Master begins to make it clear that He is not the vulgarly awaited Messiah, restorer of the late empire of David [or the Caesars, in succession struggle under the eyes of Mk’s Roman community: Galba, Oton, Vitellius, Vespasian].

The Kingdom of God is open to all humanity, which in those times of turmoil - torn apart by the civil war after Nero’s follies - sought security, hospitality, points of reference.

Everyone could find a home and shelter there (v.32b).

But some remained insensitive to an overly broad idea of ​​Fraternity. The young Rabbi's proposal displaced them.

The teaching and call imposed on Jesus' intimates is to pass to the other shore (v.35), that is, not to hold back for oneself.

The Father's riches had to be communicated to the pagans.

Yet some “veterans” did not want to know about ‘risky disproportions’. They were calibrated on habits of common religiosity, and a circumscribed ideology of power.

So to exorcise the danger of the mission, they were already trying to take the Master hostage (v.36).

From the very beginning, the resistance to the divine office and the lacerating internal debate that had resulted from it, unleashed great storm in the assemblies of believers.

«And a large wind storm comes and the waves spilled into the boat, so that the boat was already filling up» (v.37).

The storm concerns the disciples, the only dismayed; not Jesus - at the stern, that is, at the helm, driving the boat [v. 38 - and on the «cushion»: it is about the Risen One].

What happens ‘inside’ is not a simple reflection of what happens "outside"! This is the mistake to be corrected.

From the peace of the divine condition that dominates chaos (v.39) the Lord draws attention and reproaches the apostles, accusing them of not having «Faith» (v.40).

In short, are we confused, embarrassed, and is the chaos of the schemes raging? Paradoxically, we are on the right path of the Exodus - but we must not get caught up in fear.

Emotionally relevant situations make sense, carry a meaningful appeal, introduce a different introspection, the decisive change; a new 'Genesis'.

Trial in fact activates souls in the most effective way, because it disengages us from the idea of stability, and brings us into contact with dormant energies, initiating the ‘new dialogue with events’.

In Him, we are therefore imbued with a different vision of danger.

Indeed, it seems that Jesus expressly wants the “dark moments” of confrontation and doubt (v.35).

Textbook expectations and the habit of setting up conformist harmonies block the flowering of what we are and hope for.

What is annoying or even ‘against’ has something decisive to tell us.

So even in the little boat of the churches (v.36) the discomfort must express itself.

Ours is an inverted, upside down, unequaled stability - uncertain, inconvenient - yet energetic, capable of reinventing itself.

It will even be excessive, but from the disruptions. And observing in others our own dark sides.

For a proposal of Tenderness without a plan, not corresponding; wich is not a relaxation area.

Love that rhymes with terrible anxiety, which however puts us in immediate contact with our deepest layers - and the ‘suburbs’!

[12th Sunday in O.T. (B)  June 23, 2024 (Mk 4:35-41)]

God as hostage?
(Mk 4:35-40)

Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni
"Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni" - with these and similar words the Church's liturgy repeatedly prays [...].
These invocations were probably formulated in the period of the decline of the Roman Empire. The disintegration of the supporting orders of law and of the basic moral attitudes, which gave them strength, caused the breaking of the banks that had hitherto protected peaceful coexistence between men. A world was passing away. Frequent natural cataclysms further increased this experience of insecurity. No force could be seen to halt this decline. All the more insistent was the invocation of God's own power: that He would come and protect men from all these threats.
"Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni". Today, too, we have many reasons to associate ourselves with this prayer [...] The world with all its new hopes and possibilities is, at the same time, distressed by the impression that the moral consensus is dissolving, a consensus without which legal and political structures do not function; consequently, the forces mobilised to defend these structures seem doomed to failure.
Excita - the prayer is reminiscent of the cry addressed to the Lord, who was sleeping in the disciples' storm-tossed boat that was close to sinking. When His powerful word had calmed the storm, He rebuked the disciples for their little faith (cf. Mt 8:26 and par.). He wanted to say: in yourselves faith has slept. He also wants to say the same thing to us. Even in us so often faith sleeps. Let us therefore pray to Him to awaken us from the sleep of a faith that has become weary and to restore to faith the power to move mountains - that is, to give right order to the things of the world.
[Pope Benedict, to the Roman Curia 20 December 2010].

The whole Gospel of Mark is an articulate answer to the question: 'who is Jesus?' (v.41).
The direction of travel imposed by Jesus on his followers seems to go against the grain, and brazenly breaks the rules accepted by all.
While the disciples fondle nationalist desires, the Master begins to make it clear that He is not the vulgarly expected Messiah, the restorer of David's defunct empire.
[Or of the Caesars, then fighting for succession under the eyes of the Roman community of Mk: Galba, Otone, Vitellius, Vespasian].
The Kingdom of God is open to all mankind, who in those turbulent times - torn apart by the swift but bloody civil war that followed Nero's follies - sought security, welcome, points of reference.
Everyone could find home and shelter there (Mk 4:32b).
But the still Judaizing apostles and church veterans seemed averse to Christ's proposals; they remained insensitive to an overly broad idea of fraternity.
Compared to the teaching received from the fathers of the ancient tradition, the young Rabbi's proposal displaced them.
It is a problem that is still alive and very serious.

The teaching and reminder imposed on Jesus' intimates was to pass to the other shore (Mk 4:35; Lk 8:22), that is, not to keep for oneself.
The riches of the Father were to be communicated to the pagans, commonly considered unclean and infamous.
Yet his people did not want to know about risky disproportions, which would make the unpredictable action of the Son of God stand out.
They were calibrated to common religiosity customs and a circumscribed ideology of power.
Therefore, in order to exorcise the danger of the mission - and having to accommodate people, rework situations, welcome surprises that would agitate them [questioning them] - they attempted to take the Master hostage (v.36).

From the very beginning, the resistance to the divine commission and the resulting lacerating internal debate stirred up a great storm in the assemblies of believers.
"And behold, there came a great stirring in the sea, so that the boat was covered with waves" (Matt 8:24).
"And there came a great gale of wind, and the waves rolled into the boat, so that the boat was already filled" (Mk 4:37).
The storm affected only the disciples, the only ones dismayed; not Jesus: "but he was asleep" (Mt 8:24).
"In the stern" (Mk 4:38), that is, at the helm, leading.
And "on the pillow" (Mk 4:38): this is the Risen One - well alive although apparently absent.

What happens "inside" is not a mere reflection of what happens "outside"! This is the error to be corrected.
Such identification blocks and makes life chronic, starting with the handling of emotionally relevant situations - which have their own meaning.
They carry a meaningful appeal, they introduce a different eye and dialogue.
Even from the peace of the divine condition that dominates chaos, the Lord calls attention to and rebukes the apostles, accusing them of not having "Faith" (v.40).
Here by Faith is meant a shred of risk of love - like a "mustard seed" (v.31) - to be brought to humanity to renew it.In short, we are confused, embarrassed, and the chaos of schemes rages on, not excluding healthy selfishness for our destiny?
We are paradoxically on the right path of the Exodus - but we must not be overcome by fear.
In Him, we are imbued with a different view of danger.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (xxii): "The saint does not see by himself, therefore he is enlightened". Even in straits.
Indeed, it seems that Jesus expressly wanted the dark moments of confrontation and doubt for the apostles (Mk 4:35; Lk 8:22b).
This is also true for us, even if we were church leaders; otherwise there will be no cleansing from repetitive convictions.
Textbook expectations and the habit of setting up conformist harmonies block the flowering of what we are and hope for.
Especially what is annoying or even 'against' has something decisive to tell us.

Even in the little boat of the churches (Mk 4:36), discomfort must express itself:
"And He was in the stern, on the pillow, asleep. And they woke him up and said to him, "Master do you not care that we are lost?" (v.38).
"And they drew near and woke him, saying, Lord, save us, we are lost" (Mt 8:25).
All this is to revive the essence of each person and of the community itself.
To introduce the hidden or repressed change, and to activate it in the most effective way.
In every situation, it is good to be activated by contact with the hidden or primordial energies.
More than opposing frictions and conflicting external events, anxiety, impression and anguish come from the very fear of facing the normal or decisive questions of existence.
This is out of mistrust: feeling in danger perhaps only because we perceive ourselves to be intimately undeveloped, incapable of other conversation, of having the guts to discover and rework, convert, or remodel.

The fatigue of questioning ourselves and the suffering that the adventure of Faith holds, will also fade amidst the discomfort of the rough sea - which precisely does not want us to return to 'those of before'.
It is enough to disengage ourselves from the idea of stability, even religious stability, and listen to life as it is, embracing it.
Recognising it as one's own even in its crowd of bumps, bitterness, dashed hopes of harmony, sorrows...
Engaging with this flood of new emergencies, and encountering one's own profound nature.
The best vaccine against the anxieties of adventuring together with Christ on the changing waves of the unexpected will be precisely not to avoid worries upstream - on the contrary, to go towards them and welcome them; to recognise them, to let them happen.

Even in times of global crisis, the apprehensions that seem to want to devastate us, come to us as preparatory energies of other joys that wish to break through.
The upheavals are arranging new cosmic attunements; for wonderment starting with ourselves. As a present guide, and an appeal from beyond.
Our little boat is in an inverted stability, upside down, unequal - uncertain, inconvenient - yet energetic, biting, capable of reinventing itself.
It may even be excessive, but it is disruptive. And by observing in others their own dark sides.
For a proposal of Tenderness without a plan, not corresponding; which is not a relaxation zone.
Love that rhymes with terrible anxiety, which however puts us in immediate contact with our deepest layers - and peripheries!

To internalise and live the message:

On what occasions have you found easy what previously seemed impossible?
Do you ever get in the way?
Is your life the same or different - able to turn and accommodate the distant or new?

Some other providence, which you ignore

"It is good not to fall, or to fall and rise again. And if you do happen to fall, it is good not to despair and not to become estranged from the love the Sovereign has for man. For if he wills, he can do mercy to our weakness. Only let us not turn away from him, let us not be distressed if we are forced by the commandments, and let us not be disheartened if we come to nothing [...].
Let us neither hurry nor retreat, but always begin again [...].
Wait for him, and he will show you mercy, either by conversion or by trials, or by some other providence that you do not know."
[Peter Damascene, Second Book, Eighth Discourse, in La Filocalia, Turin 1982, I,94].

In the Bible the sea is considered a threatening, chaotic and potentially destructive element which God the Creator alone can dominate, govern and calm.

Yet, there is another force a positive force that moves the world, capable of transforming and renewing creatures: the power of "Christ's love" (2 Cor 5: 14) as St Paul calls it in his Second Letter to the Corinthians not, therefore essentially a cosmic force, but rather divine, transcendent. It also acts on the cosmos but, in itself, Christ's love is "another" power and the Lord manifested this transcendent otherness in his Pasch, in the "holiness" of the "way" he chose to free us from the dominion of evil, as happened for the Exodus when he brought the Jews out of Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea. "Your way, O God, is holy", the Psalmist exclaims, "Your way was through the sea/ your path through the great waters" (Ps 77[76]: 13, 19). In the Paschal Mystery, Jesus passed through the abyss of death, because in this way God wanted to renew the universe through the death and Resurrection of his Son, who "died for all", that all might live "for him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Cor 5: 15), and not live for their own sake alone.

The solemn gesture of calming the stormy sea was a clear sign of Christ's lordship over negative powers and induces one to think of his divinity: "Who then is this", his own Disciples asked fearfully, "that even wind and sea obey him?" (Mk 4: 41). Their faith is not yet firm, it is being formed; it is a mingling of fear and trust; on the other hand, Jesus' confidant abandonment to the Father is total and pure. This is why he could sleep during the storm, completely safe in God's arms. The time would come, however, when Jesus too would feel fear and anguish, when his hour came he was to feel the full burden of humanity's sins upon him, like a wave at high tide about to break over him. That was indeed to be a terrible tempest, not cosmic but spiritual. It was to be the final, extreme assault of evil against the Son of God.

Yet, in that hour Jesus did not doubt in the power of God the Father or in his closeness, even though he had to experience to the full the distance of hatred from love, of falsehood from the truth, of sin from grace. He experienced this drama in himself with excruciating pain, especially in Gethsemane, before his arrest, and then throughout his Passion until his death on the Cross. In that hour, Jesus on the one hand was one with the Father, fully abandoned to him; on the other, since he showed solidarity to sinners, he was as it were separated and felt abandoned by him.

[Pope Benedict, homily 21 June 2009]