26th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [27 September 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel (18:25–28)

To understand Ezekiel’s prophecy, we must recall the dramatic context in which he speaks. In 597 BC, many inhabitants of Jerusalem were deported to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar’s army. Jerusalem had been devastated, the Temple desecrated, and the population decimated. The exiles found themselves far from the Promised Land and from everything that had given meaning to their lives. Faced with such a tragedy, the question arose spontaneously: ‘What have we done to God to deserve all this?’. At that time, it was widely believed that there was a direct correlation between a person’s behaviour and what happened to them: the righteous are rewarded and the sinner punished. For this reason, the exiles repeated a proverb: ‘The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge’ (Ezekiel 18:2). In other words: we are paying for the sins of our fathers and of previous generations.

Ezekiel breaks with this mindset. God says through the prophet: ‘You shall no longer repeat this proverb in Israel.’ No one is condemned to live under the burden of others’ sins. Every person is called to answer for their own choices. And here a great new truth emerges: the past does not definitively determine the future. If the wicked turn away from their ways, practise righteousness and justice, repent and return to God, they may live. ‘If the wicked turn away from all the sins they have committed, […] they shall live’ (cf. Ezekiel 18:21). It is an extraordinarily relevant message: no one is a prisoner of their own past, but it is always possible to start afresh, and this frees people from the belief that they are condemned to pay for the sins of others and restores to them the possibility of hope. No past is so burdensome as to prevent a fresh start. Even in times of trial, God opens up a new path before us. Hope springs precisely from the certainty that God’s mercy always leaves open the possibility of a fresh start.  Conversion, from a biblical perspective, is precisely a change of direction, a ‘returning’ to God. Ezekiel also reminds us that true conversion does not consist merely of words or religious practices: it is manifested concretely in the practice of law and justice, that is, in the way we treat others.

Responsorial Psalm (24/25) 

The words ‘way’, ‘road’, ‘path’ and the verb ‘guide me’ recur several times in the Psalm: ‘Lord, make me know your ways; teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and instruct me, for you are the God of my salvation… The Lord shows sinners the way; he guides the poor in righteousness and teaches the humble his way’. The theme of the journey is characteristic of penitential psalms. God’s Law—that is, his commandments—is like a sort of ‘highway code’. The speaker is a sinner who recognises that he has gone astray, that he has taken the wrong path, and asks God to bring him back onto the right path. It is no coincidence that, in the Bible, to ‘convert’ literally means ‘to turn back’, ‘to turn round’. And it is never too late to turn back. In the first reading, Ezekiel reminded us that a future is always possible: no one is definitively condemned by their past. That is why we can still pray: ‘Lord, teach me your ways’. What is asked of us? First and foremost, not perfection, but humility: ‘The Lord teaches the humble his way’. The Hebrew word anawim, translated as ‘the humble’ or ‘the poor’, refers to those who recognise that they are poor, fragile, without resources and in need of God. They are the ‘poor in spirit’, those who are able to pray simply: ‘Lord, have mercy on me’. Their plea is already a call for conversion: ‘Lord, teach me your way’. And the ‘I’ speaking in the Psalm is not merely an individual, but the entire people. Psalm 24/25 was probably used in penitential celebrations in the Temple in Jerusalem, which is why there is a constant interplay between ‘I’ and ‘we’ in biblical prayer. The Psalm speaks in the first person, but at the end it says: ‘Deliver Israel, O God, from all its troubles’. The ‘I’ therefore encompasses the ‘we’. The biblical person possesses a strong sense of solidarity across generations: the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is the God of their descendants; the Covenant with Noah, Abraham and Moses concerns not only the individual, but the whole people. Today, however, our society often tends to place the individual, their freedom and their personal rights at the centre, sometimes at the expense of the communal dimension. The Bible has taken a different path: it has progressively discovered the importance of the individual without ever separating them from the community. This is one of the great riches of biblical revelation: the individual is not lost within the community, nor is the community forgotten in favour of the individual. We are personally responsible, yet at the same time we stand in deep solidarity with one another. For this reason, in the Psalm, that humble and trusting sinner is at once each one of us and the entire community of believers. Finally, there is a particularly beautiful detail: the Psalm continually plays on the theme of memory and forgetfulness: ‘Remember, Lord, your mercy… Do not remember the sins of my youth… Do not forget me’. It is almost a prayer that God might have a ‘selective memory’: that he might forget our sins and remember his mercy instead!

It is a bold prayer, yet also one of profound humility. Bold, because it springs from trust in the Covenant; humble, because it acknowledges one’s own sin and frailty. Man asks God: ‘Do not remember what I have been; remember instead who You are: merciful, faithful, slow to anger and great in love.’ After all, even in the Old Testament, Israel had discovered something surprising: God is not merely the Judge, but a Father full of tenderness and mercy. And so the prayer of the Psalm can also become our own: “Lord, when I have gone astray, teach me your way. When I have fallen, show me that I can return. When I recognise my own poverty and fragility, guide me. Do not remember my sins: remember your mercy. And grant that my ‘I’ may never forget the ‘we’ of the community of your children”.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Philippians (2:1–11)

On Palm Sunday, every year we hear above all the second part of this text, the part that contemplates the mystery of Christ: ‘Though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped’. Today, however, let us focus on the first part, in which Paul explains to us how to live ‘in Christ’. Paul uses this expression at the beginning and end of the passage: ‘If, then, there is any consolation in Christ…’ and then: ‘Have in you the same mindset as Christ Jesus’. Between these two statements, he lists the attitudes that must characterise the Christian life: comfort, love, fellowship, tenderness, compassion. It is no coincidence that these are the very same attributes with which God is described in the Old Testament. Being ‘in Christ’ is therefore not merely a figure of speech. From the moment of Baptism, we belong to Christ; we are incorporated into Him and become members of His Body. This new identity transcends all our differences: cultural, social, economic and physical. We now have a common name: Christians. It is like what happens in a large family: when we meet, before any other differences, we recognise that we belong to the same family. It is this profound sense of belonging that should characterise the Christian community. Paul says: ‘Have the same mindset, the same love, one spirit and one purpose’. It is as if he were telling us: honour the family to which you belong; honour the name you bear. Then comes a surprising expression: ‘Consider others better than yourselves’. This does not mean belittling oneself or thinking one is inferior. The Gospel does not ask us to rank people as superior or inferior. The Kingdom of God does not operate according to the logic of competition and comparison. The point is quite another: to learn to look at others with a positive gaze, almost with an attitude of admiration, seeking to see not what they possess, but what they are. The differences we see – physical, cultural, social, economic – belong above all to the dimension of ‘having’. Paul, on the other hand, leads us into the dimension of ‘being’: ‘ ‘As many of you as were baptised into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ’ (Gal 3:27). When I meet another baptised person, therefore, I must not stop at what is apparent. I must remember that they are a member of the Body of Christ, a temple of the Holy Spirit, and that they have a personal vocation, different from my own, yet necessary to God’s plan. Everyone possesses a gift that no one else can replace. Because of the mission God has entrusted to them, the other person may be ‘better’ than me, in the sense that they possess what I do not possess and can accomplish what I cannot. For this reason, they also need my esteem, my encouragement and my trust. The important thing is not to determine who is worth more, but to know what mission God entrusts to each individual and to the community as a whole. Every person is called to contribute to the building of the Kingdom according to the gift received from the Spirit. Finally, there is a great truth contained in this text: the Kingdom of God is already present, but it has yet to be fulfilled in our lives. In Christ, indeed, God’s plan to reunite humanity has already begun and, through Baptism, we have been incorporated into this reality. But what is already true in Christ must also gradually become true in our daily lives. Our being ‘in Christ’ cannot remain merely an inner reality or a simple religious formula: it must tangibly transform the way we view, welcome and treat others, both Christians and non-Christians. And here we understand the profound link between the two parts of the text. First, Paul tells us how those who are ‘in Christ’ should live; then he shows us how Christ himself lived: not seeking his own advantage, but humbling himself, becoming a servant and giving himself even to the point of death on the cross. For this reason, the Christological hymn is not merely a beautiful contemplation of Jesus: it is the concrete measure of our lives. ‘Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus’. To be Christian, therefore, means allowing the very movement of Christ to enter our lives: not asserting ourselves against others, but giving of ourselves; not seeking to be superior, but serving; not focusing on what the other possesses, but recognising who they are before God. It is in this way that what Christ has already accomplished becomes, day by day, a reality lived out in the Church and in the world. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (21:28–32)

‘Which of the two did the will of his father?’ This question from Jesus seems simple, almost too simple. Once again we find ourselves in the vineyard, as we did last Sunday. A father asks his two sons to go and work in the vineyard. The first replies ‘no’, but then changes his mind and goes; the second replies straight away: ‘Yes, sir’, but then does not go. Jesus asks the chief priests and the elders: ‘Which of the two did the will of his father?’ Clearly, he does not wish to test them with a simple riddle: he wants to open their eyes. The answer is obvious: the first. And it is precisely then that Jesus applies the parable to his listeners: you are like the second son. You say ‘yes’ to God; you are religious people, you know the Law, you await the Messiah and pray for his coming; yet when God sends him to you, you do not recognise him and you do not accept his word. It was the Father’s will that his people—and above all his religious authorities—should welcome his Envoy, the Messiah, Jesus. Herein lies the tragedy that will lead to the Passion: precisely those who seemed best prepared to welcome the Messiah will be the ones who refuse to recognise him. Jesus then utters a very strong statement: ‘Tax collectors and prostitutes will enter the Kingdom of God before you.’ He is not praising them because they are sinners. Their sin is certainly no cause for merit. Rather, they are like the younger son: they began by saying ‘no’, but then changed their ways. What happened? They believed the preaching of John the Baptist. John had called everyone to repentance: ‘Bear fruit worthy of repentance.’ The tax collectors and prostitutes, precisely because they recognised their own poverty and sinfulness, were able to listen. The religious authorities, on the other hand, refused to believe John and later Jesus. Matthew probably links this parable to the events that had just taken place in Jerusalem. At the beginning of chapter 21, Jesus had entered the city and the crowd had welcomed him as the Messiah, shouting: ‘Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ (Ps 117/118:26). But this enthusiasm was not shared by the chief priests and the elders. When Jesus was teaching in the Temple, they asked him: ‘By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority?’ In reality, the problem was precisely this: in their eyes, Jesus did not possess the necessary authority to speak in God’s name. Jesus, as is often the case, does not answer directly. He asks them: ‘Where did John’s baptism come from: from heaven or from men?’ They do not dare to reply, because any answer would have put them in a difficult position: to acknowledge John would have meant acknowledging his testimony about Jesus as well.

That is why Jesus tells the parable of the two sons. It is almost a final appeal for their conversion. Jesus does not wish to exclude anyone: he desires the salvation of all. If he speaks harshly, it is because time is now running out: we are on the eve of the Passion. But what had John the Baptist said? He had denounced precisely that religious self-assurance which prevents conversion: ‘Do not say amongst yourselves: “We have Abraham as our father.”’ It is not enough to belong to the chosen people, to know the Law or to hold a religious position. One must bear the fruits of conversion. Perhaps this was the real problem with the authorities: a certain certainty that they already possessed the truth about God, to the point where they were no longer capable of allowing themselves to be challenged by his word.

The tax collectors and the prostitutes, on the other hand, precisely because they recognised themselves as sinners and the poor before God, had more open ears and hearts. The problem, therefore, is not simply being a sinner or being religious. The problem is becoming so certain of one’s own convictions that one is no longer able to hear God when He speaks in a way that differs from what we expect. The parable thus presents us with a much deeper question. It is not enough to say ‘yes’ to God with our lips. Faith is recognised in our lives. It is not enough to know the Father’s will: we must carry it out. And the question that Jesus puts to the religious leaders becomes, today, a question for each of us: Have I truly entered the Father’s vineyard? Does my ‘yes’ to God find expression in my everyday life? Am I still capable of hearing a word that calls me to change? Or do I think I already know everything about God and leave no room for conversion?

The parable of the two sons goes even deeper than that of the labourers of the last hour. There, Jesus questioned the way we judge God’s mercy towards others; here, he questions our very piety. Ultimately, Jesus is not merely asking us: ‘Do you say “yes” to God?’, but: ‘Are you doing the Father’s will?’ Because in the Lord’s vineyard, it is not only what we say that counts, but the concrete response of our lives.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [20 September 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (55:6–9)

‘Seek the Lord, for he is to be found.’ Isaiah’s message does not mean: ‘Hurry, for God might withdraw.’ On the contrary: God is always near and always allows himself to be found. It is we, in our freedom, who turn away from him, and sometimes we even lose the desire to seek him.

Isaiah speaks to a discouraged people, exiled to Babylon and convinced that God has abandoned them. The prophet urges them to reject this idea: God’s silence does not mean His absence, and God is not far away, inaccessible or incapable of forgiving. On the contrary, He is ‘abundant in forgiveness’. The fundamental theme is therefore that of return: when we think of God as a harsh, vengeful or indifferent judge, we turn away from Him. When, on the other hand, we turn back to Him, we discover His true face: a tender, merciful God, ready to forgive. This revelation runs throughout the Bible. Hosea presents God as the One who sets aside His anger because His heart is full of compassion. Jeremiah speaks of thoughts of peace, capable of bestowing a future and hope. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that God causes the sun to rise on the good and the bad and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Even Jonah rebukes God because his compassion towards Israel’s enemies is ‘tender and merciful’. God is the ‘Wholly Other’ and the ‘Wholly Near’. Isaiah declares: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are my ways your ways.’ God is infinitely different from us, but it is precisely this difference that reveals something extraordinary: God loves and forgives without keeping score. We are often accustomed to the logic of give and take: we think that the good should be rewarded and the wicked punished; we tally up our merits and ask ourselves whether we are worthy of forgiveness. God, on the other hand, does not ask us to ‘earn’ his love. His forgiveness is grace; it is freely given. The real question, therefore, is not whether God is willing to forgive us, but whether we are willing to accept his forgiveness. As the text from Chronicles says: ‘If my people […] turn from their wicked ways, I will hear them, I will forgive their sin and heal them.’ It is not God who attaches a condition to his love: it is we who must open ourselves up in order to receive it. Finally, ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts’ also calls us to humility and tolerance. Since God infinitely transcends our understanding, no one can claim to possess the full truth about him. Speaking of God therefore requires humility and a willingness to listen. In short, God does not turn away from us: it is we who turn away from Him. And when we return, we do not find a stern God who holds us to account for our mistakes, but a Father who is ever near, tender, merciful and rich in forgiveness. His love cannot be bought or earned: it is received freely. 

Responsorial Psalm (144/145) 

‘The Lord is good to all.’ Psalm 144/145 harmonises perfectly with the message of the prophet Isaiah: God is full of mercy, rich in forgiveness, and continually invites humanity to return to Him. The psalm is the response of one who has rediscovered faith: ‘I will bless you every day; I will praise your name for ever.’ It is an ‘alphabetical’ psalm: from beginning to end, from A to Z, the whole of life is steeped in God’s covenant, His tenderness and His greatness. The psalm proclaims: ‘Great is the Lord and worthy of all praise; His greatness is without end.’ Isaiah expresses the same idea by saying that God’s thoughts and ways are infinitely superior to our own. But God’s greatness is not that of human power, wealth or success. God’s true greatness lies in his love and, above all, in his capacity to forgive. The same principle applies to human beings: true greatness does not lie in dominating others, but in knowing how to love. This is natural, for we are created in God’s image. A justice different from our own The psalm states: ‘The Lord is good to all; his compassion extends to all his creatures.’ God’s forgiveness is not reserved for a select few: it is offered to everyone, even to the sinner who returns to him. Our idea of justice leads us to think that those who have sinned greatly should receive a greater punishment. God, however, invites us to change our perspective: God’s justice is not that of the scales, but that of love. This is also shown in the parable of the labourers of the last hour: everyone receives the same wage, regardless of the number of hours worked. Jesus thus teaches us that God’s love does not operate according to our calculations of merit, seniority or reward. His generosity takes nothing away from anyone. God is close to everyone. The psalm concludes: ‘ The Lord is close to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in sincerity’. God’s goodness is for everyone. His greatness is his love; his justice is mercy; and his forgiveness is not measured by our merits. And when we discover this logic, we are called not only to accept his forgiveness, but also to rejoice in the good he bestows upon others, without envy or judgement. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians 

‘For me, to live is Christ.’ The Letter to the Philippians is particularly moving because it combines Paul’s great passion for Christ and for his mission with his human and fraternal affection for the people he encountered. Paul writes whilst in prison and facing the threat of death. Yet he affirms with great serenity: ‘Christ will be glorified in my body, whether I live or die’, that is, in his person and in his life. If he is set free, he will be able to continue proclaiming the Gospel; if, on the other hand, he dies, even his martyrdom will become a testimony to faith in the Resurrection. For Paul, therefore, whatever happens can become an opportunity to make Christ known. Even his imprisonment has helped to encourage other Christians to proclaim the Word. ‘For me, to live is Christ’ When Paul says: ‘For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain’, he expresses the very heart of his existence: Christ is his reason for living. To live means to belong to Christ and to serve him; to die means to enter fully into communion with him. Paul does indeed long to depart so that he may be with Christ, yet he does not wish to shirk the mission entrusted to him. He is torn between two desires: on the one hand, he longs to be with Christ once and for all; on the other, he knows that his presence can be of service to others. Ultimately, what matters to him is not his own interest, but the good of the communities and the spread of the Gospel. The only thing that matters is the Gospel. Paul thus leaves us with a very important question: what do we live for? For him, the answer is clear: to live means to belong to Christ and to place one’s life at the service of the Gospel. He regards his own life as a gift to be spent on others. This is why he concludes by exhorting the Philippians: ‘Conduct yourselves, then, in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ’. It is not simply a matter of being morally upright people. It means taking the Gospel seriously and making it visible through one’s life, one’s words and one’s service. To live for Christ means transforming one’s whole life into a testimony to God’s love.  

From the Gospel according to Matthew (20:1–16a) 

Let us set aside our bookkeeper’s logic. This is the logic presented to us in the parable of the labourers in the vineyard. By our standards, it seems unfair: those who have worked all day receive the same pay as those who arrived at the last hour, but Jesus makes it clear straight away that he is not speaking of a normal business, but of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’. And in the Kingdom of God, different criteria apply from our own: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts,’ says the Lord. The central point of the parable is what it reveals about God: ‘I am good’. God’s goodness does not keep score, does not measure merits, and does not determine how much love each person has ‘earned’. In the Kingdom of God, there is no tally of merits. We, on the other hand, are often tempted to keep track of everything: sacrifices, sufferings, prayers, good works. We think that all this gives us ‘rights’ before God. Jesus invites us to completely change this mindset.

‘Are you envious because I am good?’ The workers hired at the first hour protest: ‘You treat them just like us!’, whilst thinking: ‘We deserve more.’ But love does not operate according to the logic of merit. Love cannot be bought or earned: it is received as a gift. God’s justice does not consist in distributing according to our calculations, but in loving each of his children fully and without measure. The same logic runs through the whole of the Bible: God forgives the people of Nineveh even though they are pagans; Jesus welcomes tax collectors and sinners; the father in the parable joyfully welcomes the prodigal son. And on the cross, the good thief, at the very last moment, turns to Jesus and receives the promise of Paradise. Who can call themselves a ‘worker of the first hour’? In reality, the parable should console us. Who amongst us can truly consider themselves a worker of the first hour? We are all, in some way, workers of the last hour. We all live by God’s mercy and free grace. The problem arises when we look at others with envy and think that God is too good to them. That is when our eyes become evil. The lesson, therefore, is an invitation to abandon the mindset of comparison, merit and calculation, and to enter into the logic of grace. In short, God does not love us according to our merits: he loves us freely, fully and without measure. True conversion consists in abandoning our ‘accountant’s logic’ and learning to see through God’s eyes. We must not ask ourselves who deserves more, but rejoice because God is good to everyone. ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are not your ways’ (Isaiah). God’s justice is, ultimately, the justice of love and mercy.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Satisfied sobriety: new Depth

(Lk 9:1-6)

At the time of Jesus, there was no lack of various renewal movements that sought to revive community life, undermined by economic and social collapse, and political and religious servility.

Essenes, Pharisees and Zealots had their missionaries, who although sent by those who most radically desired a new way of co-presence, were totally biased against other interlocutors.

They did not trust people, nor the customs or food of others, which was also legally considered unclean.

Instead, the Apostles must learn to accept hospitality; trusting people, and imagine being welcomed even by those whom common devotion considers defiled.

The person of Faith differs from the fundamentalist religious believer because he has an opposite criterion of fraternity and coexistence: he denounces the laws of ritual, cultural and social exclusion.

He/she have a new depth.

Access to 'purity' is in the intimate and personal relationship with God, and in the quality of open relationships; not elsewhere. And the Church is an eccentric reality; it does not live for itself, for advantage, to win.

It has only the task of keeping alive the Message that guides all to full Happiness.

Each one, and the Community itself, focus on the [real, through life] Announcement that has transforming power. Absolutely the Church is not established to impose ideas and triumph, far from it.

Thus the son of God on the way cannot spend time improving his lodging, as if it were a sign of social and spiritual rank - perhaps moving from an initial makeshift accommodation to more and more affluent and conspicuous forms on the territory (v.4).

The authentic witness to Christ has in his heart quite another Promise.

Lk insists that the Mission must take place in absolute poverty - a condition for continuing the dream of Jesus - and even takes away from the believer in Christ the [helpless] shortage of the travelling stick that Mk (6:8) leaves him instead.

Relationships with events, relationships with people and the blind forces of power, and natural contingencies, must become in us Encounter.

Stunning of new Empathy that in itself announces wisdom, healing, and victory over infirmity (vv.1-2) - introducing even the distant and desperate to the incisiveness of Faith.

This Journey of finding one's own and others' lives in the hands of the Father is not yet over.

The Truth of the Risen One is open to an updated and perspective, unframed Hope - to be enlivened again. The need for works transmuting the ancient world acquires an ever invigorated topicality.

It continues to the present day, but with needs, motives, horizons and offers of redemption in totally surprising “divine” forms - also due to multifaceted cultural contexts [or even internal interferences, with their unchanging attempts at rigid and pious respectability or fashionable obfuscation of the human spirit].

What matters is not the Means, tools [which are used from time to time], which differ according to environment or are more or less limited, but the proclamation of the Truth that one 'does', not that one 'has'.

In itself, material deprivation is a “chair”, but also a showcase. In other religions, there are forms of individual poverty and dispossession [compared to ours] that are heroic and astonishing, yet perhaps inaccessible and circle-like in their incredible athleticism - and depersonalisation.

The Church must be free, available, all dedicated, defenceless.

Its specific weight - a true guarantee of credibility - remains to be discerned in the order of a universal and perfect life ‘as saved ones’ [recovered by Grace], not like aseptic phenomena chiselled in minute detail.

We see it today, in the time of global crisis: we need to reinvent ourselves in order to be reborn, even in terms of the sacredness criteria.

In short: we have to stop sabotaging our spontaneous natural resources, and become who we are, starting from day-to-day frailties - in a more genuine [and at the same time, deeper] way.

Sometimes it will be necessary to make use of the very aspects that were once considered to be a weakness of character... precisely to be excluded, in a world that is all exterior, falsely extroverted, mannered, self-important.

In order to build one Family and one People of God, freed from fetters that humble the joy, all credible ‘facts’ and conforming ‘means’ - fragrant and spontaneous, or even culturally honed - can be welcomed, taken into account, reinvented.

The absolute and non-negotiable option is the good of the concrete woman and man, not a belief in pureness, or “cultural” appropriateness.

What matters is the concern for our relationship with God in the communion with our brothers and sisters as equals, for a conviviality of differences that enriches us, personally and together.

The quality of understanding is enough for everything, and marks a wise difference to idolizing aspects... such as material rivalry, control of weak consciences, and expansion into the territory - figures that are so important for ideologies and unfortunately also for some imposing forms of our beliefs [rigid or surreptitious].

If, on the other hand, we root ourselves in an exclusively convivial and broad-minded disposition of coexistence, we will inform our entire way of life. This, in the satisfied sobriety of those who already possess the authentic Treasure, within and without: the universal Christ, resurrected for the «multitudes»; Source and Summit of the Kingdom to be built.

To internalize and live the message:

How do you proclaim the Kingdom of God?

Do you bring what you, first, experienced, or do you prefer other people’s ideas, artificial attitudes, schemes, thoughts, organisation charts and ‘names’?

What do you think complicates the Announcement today?

[Wednesday 25th wk. in O.T.  September 23, 2026]

Dear friends, with your precious work of animation and missionary cooperation you remind the People of God of “the need in our day too for decisive commitment to the missio ad gentes” (Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Verbum Domini, n. 95), to proclaim the “the great hope”, “the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety” (Encyclical Spe Salvi, n. 31). Indeed, new problems and new forms of slavery are emerging in our time, both in the so-called first world, well-off and rich but uncertain about its future, and in the developing countries, which, partly because of a globalization often characterized by profit ends by increasing the masses of the poor, emigrants and the oppressed, in which the light of hope fades.

The Church must constantly renew her commitment to bring Christ, to prolong his messianic mission to bring about the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of justice, peace, freedom and love. It is the duty of the entire People of God to transform the world according to God’s plan with the renewing force of the Gospel, so “that God may be everything to every one” (1 Cor 15:28). Thus it is necessary to continue with renewed enthusiasm the work of evangelization, the joyful proclamation of the Kingdom of God, who came in Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit, to lead all men and women to the true freedom of children of God against every form of slavery. It is necessary to cast the nets of the Gospel into the sea of history to bring human beings towards the land of God.

“The mission of proclaiming the word of God is the task of all of the disciples of Jesus Christ based on their Baptism” (Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Verbum Domini, n. 94). However in order that they may be a decisive commitment to evangelization, it is necessary that individual Christians and communities truly believe that “the word of God is the saving truth which men and women in every age need” (ibid., n. 95). If this conviction of faith is not profoundly rooted in our own lives, we shall not be able to feel the urgency and beauty of proclaiming it. In fact, every Christian must make his or her own the pressing need to work for the edification of the Kingdom of God. Everything in the Church is at the service of evangelization: every sector of her activity and also each and every one, in the various duties that they are called to carry out. All must be involved in the missio ad gentes: bishops, priests, men and women religious and lay people. “No believer in Christ can feel dispensed from this responsibility which comes from the fact of our sacramentally belonging to the Body of Christ” (ibid., n. 94). It is therefore necessary to ensure that all the sectors of pastoral work, catechesis and charity are characterized by the missionary dimension: the Church is mission.

A fundamental condition for proclamation is to let oneself be completely grasped by Christ, the Word of God incarnate, because only those who listen attentively to the incarnate Word, who are intimately united to him, can become his heralds (cf. ibid., nn. 51, 91). The Gospel messenger must remain under the dominion of the Word and must draw nourishment from the Sacraments: it is on this vital sap that their existence and missionary ministry depends. Only if we are rooted profoundly in Christ and in his word are we capable of withstanding the temptation to reduce evangelization to a purely human, social project, hiding or glossing over the transcendent dimension of the salvation offered by God in Christ.

It is a word that must be witnessed to and proclaimed explicitly, because without a consistent witness it proves to be less comprehensible and credible. Even if we often feel inadequate, poor, incapable, let us always preserve our certainty of the power of God who places his treasure “in earthen vessels” precisely so that it may appear that it is he who acts through us.

The ministry of evangelization is fascinating and demanding. It requires love for proclamation and bearing witness, a love so total that it can even be marked by martyrdom. The Church cannot fail in her mission of bringing Christ’s light, of proclaiming the Good News of the Gospel, even if this entails persecution (cf. Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Verbum Domini, n. 95). It is part of her very life, as it was for Jesus. Christians must not be afraid, even if “Christians are the religious group which suffers most from persecution on account of its faith” (Message for the World Day of Peace 2011, n. 1).

St Paul said that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:38-39).

[Pope Benedict, address to the General Assembly Pontifical Missionary Works 14 May 2011]

2. Today's meeting takes place in the time and spirit of the Great Jubilee, which the universal Church is observing with great fervour. This is an extraordinary year of grace, in which the Christian community is having a deeper experience of God's goodness revealed in the Incarnation of the Son and gratefully proclaimed by the Church to all nations. The words of the Apostle echo in our minds:  "Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor 6: 2b).

The celebration of the Great Jubilee appears, therefore, as a very timely occasion for reflecting on the mercy which God the Father, through the Holy Spirit, has offered in Christ to all humanity. The Great Jubilee is the "message of salvation", which should ring out in every corner of the world, so that whoever hears it may become, in turn, a witness to it and make it a means of salvation for every person. We are all called to open our eyes to the needs of the many sheep without a shepherd (cf. Mk 6: 34), in order to serve them by making known to them the Lord's name so that they may confess him and share in salvation (cf. Rom 10: 9)

3. In particular I would like to recall here all the men and women who, by dedicating themselves "ad vitam" to the mission "ad gentes", have made this work the raison d'être of their lives. They are an incomparable example of devotion to the cause of spreading the Gospel. I thank and cordially bless everyone who, in ways as discreet as they are effective, is involved in the work of promoting missionary awareness and cooperation. There are many of them. Numerous lay people join the priests and consecrated persons, individually or as a family, in the desire to give several years or even their whole life to the mission. They often proclaim the Good News and express their faith in hostile or indifferent surroundings. Dear brothers and sisters, please convey to them my gratitude and encouragement to persevere generously in their zealous missionary commitment. God, who never lets himself be outdone in generosity, will reward them.

The recent commemoration of the Witnesses to the Faith in the 20th Century, celebrated last Sunday at the Colosseum, reminds us that the supreme test of mission is often the gift of one's life to the point of death. "Throughout Christian history, "martyrs', that is, witnesses, have always been numerous and indispensable to the spread of the Gospel. In our own age, there are many:  Bishops, priests, men and women religious, lay people - often unknown heroes who give their lives to bear witness to the faith. They are par excellence the heralds and witnesses of the faith" (Encyclical Letter Redemptoris missio, n. 45).

As we thank God for our brothers and sisters in faith, we pray that their missionary work in the Church will always be inspired by great generosity.

[Pope John Paul II, address to the assembly of the Pontifical Missionary Works 11 May 2000]

Renewal requires conversion, it requires living the mission as a permanent opportunity to proclaim Christ, to make Him encounter us by witnessing and making others participate in our personal encounter with Him. It is my hope that your spiritual and material assistance to the Churches will make them ever more founded on the Gospel and on the baptismal involvement of all the faithful, lay and clerics, in the Church's one mission: to make God's love close to every person, especially those most in need of his mercy. The Extraordinary Month of Prayer and Reflection on the Mission as First Evangelisation will serve this renewal of the Church's faith, so that at its heart always lies and works the Easter of Jesus Christ, the only Saviour, Lord and Bridegroom of His Church.

May the preparation of this extraordinary time dedicated to the first proclamation of the Gospel help us to be more and more the Church in mission, according to the words of Blessed Paul VI, in his Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi, magna carta of the post-conciliar missionary commitment. Pope Montini wrote: "Evangelising, the Church begins by evangelising itself. A community of believers, a community of lived and shared hope, a community of fraternal love, she needs to listen continually to what she must believe, the reasons for her hope, the new commandment of love. As the people of God immersed in the world, and often tempted by idols, it always needs to hear the great works of God proclaimed (cf. Acts 2:11; 1 Pet 2:9), which have converted it to the Lord, and to be summoned and reunited again by Him. This means, in a word, that it always needs to be evangelised if it is to retain the freshness, the impetus and the strength to proclaim the Gospel" (n. 15).

[Pope Francis, address to the assembly of the Pontifical Missionary Works 3 June 2017]

The Lord wants new people, who Listen

[Lk 8:19-21]

In the life of those who are challenged by the relationship of Faith, to become blood relatives of the Father (according to the Spirit) is fundamental Perceive [in profound sense of Listening - not so much materially ‘seeing’].

It is not worth the «staying outside», or wanting to ‘speak’ directly, to ‘convince’ the Lord (vv.19-21).

It is necessary to intuit and grasp: a path to encounter one’s own intimate layers of being, the truth of inclinations, and of life.

It is decisive to welcome a satiating Word, which becomes language and culture, which has creative power: given to the ears and discovered inside. Captured in personal history and reality, and transmitted again.

To depart from this founding Core and Eros means detaching from oneself, dispersing oneself in rivulets that do not belong to us, failing into the void [’emptiness’ not understood as a deep energetic state, which prepares new developments].

Paradoxically, both our Freedom and the Salvation of the world are the result of an Obedience - but not external, or others.

It is rather tuning in to the part of the Logos within us that is blooming; really "perfect". No conditioning model.

No a priori correction, nor forcing according to prejudice: rather, an eternal Metamorphosis - accompanied by the Verbum Domini, which mysteriously guides Exodus into Exodus.

No culturally configured expectation would lead to full communion with the great divine spark and fullness in each and every one.

Realisation of the Kingdom and every day - even outside of time.

Getting to know Christ intimately requires more than simply looking at him and being moved by sympathy, cultural ties, or religious emotion.

It is the Listening that connects and establishes intimate constraints which do not extinguish - a friendship of engaging harmony with the Master.

Around Jesus the Word of God creates a new Family, with bonds of spiritual kinship closer than what the clan attachment offered.

The Lord wants other people, born precisely from Perception-forebonding.

The union is no longer reserved and exclusive; it becomes accessible to anyone and in any condition - even if he/her were "blind" outside, unable to see what is at hand.

Each one is Church, the Father's House, and thus can realize God's Dream of living with men and walking beside them.

He dwells among us and in us. In his Word, without more ‘distances’.

In this way, all our actions must aim for this purpose: to form the Temple of God, his lineage, the Body of the living Christ.

To achieve this complete goal, essential means is to host the Vocation that transforms us, a much more permanent, sensitive and energetic foundation of any feeling, connection, or emotion.

Indispensable is not an (initial) experience of enthusiasm, but the custody of the Call that interprets life and becomes mentality, dynamism inside that leads [and flows into suburban paths].

There is yet other Temple to be built.

[Tuesday 25th wk. in O.T.  September 22, 2026]

The Lord wants new people, who Listen

(Lk 8:19-21)

In the life of one who is challenged by the relationship of Faith, in order to become consanguineous with the Father according to the Spirit, it is essential to Perceive [in the profound sense of Listening - not so much to 'see' directly].

Nor is it worth 'standing outside', or wanting to 'speak' directly, to 'convince' the Lord (vv.19-21).

It is necessary to intuit and grasp: a path to encounter one's own deep layers of being, the truth of inclinations, and of life (vv.20-21).

It is decisive to welcome a satiating Word, which becomes language and culture, which has creative power: given to the ears and discovered within. Captured in personal history and reality, and transmitted again.

To turn away from such a founding Word and Eros is to detach oneself from oneself, to disperse into rivulets that do not belong to us, to plunge into emptiness ['emptiness' not understood as a deep energetic state, which prepares new developments].

Paradoxically, both our Freedom and the Salvation of the world are the result of Obedience - but not external, or others'.

Rather, it is tuning in to the part of the Logos within us that is blossoming; truly 'perfect'. No conditioning models.

No a priori correction, no forcing according to prejudice: rather, an eternal Metamorphosis - accompanied by the Word, mysteriously leading from Exodus to Exodus.

No culturally configured expectation would lead to full communion with the great divine spark and fullness in each and all.

Realisation of the Kingdom and every day - even outside of time.

To know Christ up close, it is not enough to look at him and get caught up in sympathy or religious emotion.

It is the Listening that connects and establishes intimate bonds, which are not extinguished - of engaging attunement with the Master.

Around Jesus, the Word of God creates a new family, with bonds of spiritual kinship closer than what the clan bond offered.

The Lord wants other people, born precisely from Perception-presence.

The union is no longer reserved and exclusive; it becomes accessible to anyone and in whatever condition they find themselves - even if they are outwardly "blind", unable to see what is at hand.

Everyone is Church, the Father's House, and thus can realise God's Dream of dwelling with men and walking beside them.

He dwells among us and in us. In his Word, with no more 'distance'.

In this way, all our actions must tend towards this goal: to form the Temple of God, his household, the Body of the living Christ.

To reach this accomplished goal, an essential means is to host the Vocation that transforms us, a much deeper foundation than any bond or emotion.

Indispensable is not an (initial) experience of enthusiasm, but rather the hosting of the Call that interprets life and becomes mentality, dynamism within that guides and flows into peripheral paths.

In ancient Israel, the basis of social coexistence was the large family. Clans and communities were a guarantee of protection of both particular hearths and people.

That bond of real solidarity ensured possession of the land - which gave a sense of freedom - and was the vehicle of cultural transmission, of the way of feeling as a people, and of spirituality itself.

Defending the coexistence that guaranteed global identity was the same as defending the First Covenant.

But in Palestine at the time of Jesus, the life of the clan and the life of the community - broader - were declining.

Excessive taxes to be paid to collaborating governments and the Temple, the inevitable rise of the classes who had to sell themselves as slaves for debt, perhaps the more individualistic mentality of the Hellenistic world, imperial threats, and the obligation to welcome, forage, and harbour Roman troops [who often took advantage of even the weakest members of the clan], accentuated the problems of survival.

In addition to this, the severity of purity regulations was a further factor of marginalisation, alongside the growing idea - typical of religions - that there was a link between a heavenly curse and a condition of misery.

The material and protective concerns of the individual family accentuated the detachment from collective moments.

Jesus wanted to widen the narrow limits of the small brotherhood of the hearth again, and extend them to the great household of the Kingdom of God.

A comparison with the parallel passages of the episode shows that Jesus had problems with his natural relatives.

They tended to reabsorb him within the parameters of tradition, for fear of retaliation and because they considered him extremist (perhaps unbalanced).

The Risen One broadens the idea of family and challenges the constraints that distance us from our identity-character, and mission-whether it is the impediments placed by his own, by Peter, by the disciples, by powerful people, or leaders of the official religion.As mentioned above, at a time of political subjugation and rigid legalistic religious ideology, the core values of clan and community were weakening due to the situation of social and economic collapse.

The situation of extrinsic control - social and conscience slavery - prevented people from uniting and sharing, forcing them to confine themselves to individual, exclusive dynastic problems.

[Situation of Jesus' time, and yet not entirely foreign to us, even from the point of view of certain 'charisms' configured in too much detail, and the realities already established on the ground].

For the new Kingdom to manifest itself, it was necessary for the idea of coexistence to go beyond the narrow limits of the individual and the tiny household - also from a cultural point of view.

There was a need for a stimulus that opened up community life - understood according to the spirit of the Beatitudes, for a conviviality of differences; even in real, even raw cohabitation.

Even today in the time of global crisis, the goal is an existence no longer disfigured by retreats, nor undermined by immediate needs, disembodied fantasies, or ingrained patterns.

The need arises urgently for a new idea of the universal family, one that goes beyond the fate of habitual micro-relationships [i.e. the group, the movement or even the denomination].

The world we are preparing will no longer make free participation, indulgent and concrete exchange, and overtaking domestication so difficult.

A new idea of universal kinship, fostering exchange and overcoming.

There is another Temple to build.

To internalise and live the message:

Do your family and your church group favour the enlightened listening to the Gospel and 'doing the Word', or do they only give you ready-made and packaged pills?

Do they help you or do they close you off from openness to the confrontation of ideas, to the realisation of yourself, of those far away, and to the abundance of resources in being, yours or those of others?

16. It is providential that the Second Synod for Africa took place soon after the one dedicated to the word of God in the life and mission of the Church. That Synod recalled the pressing duty of each disciple to understand Christ who calls us by his word. Through this word, we, the faithful, learn to listen to Christ and to let ourselves be guided by the Holy Spirit, who reveals to us the meaning of all things (cf. Jn 16:13). In fact, the “reading and meditation of the word of God root us more deeply in Christ and guide our ministry as servants of reconciliation, justice and peace”.[19] As that Synod reminded us, “to become his brothers and his sisters, one must be like ‘those who hear the word of God and put it into practice’ (Lk 8:21). Authentic hearing is obeying and acting. It means making justice and love blossom in life. It is offering, in life and in society, a witness like the call of the prophets, which continuously united the word of God and life, faith and rectitude, worship and social commitment.”[20] Listening to and meditating upon the word of God means letting it penetrate and shape our lives so as to reconcile us with God, allowing God to lead us towards reconciliation with our neighbour: a necessary path for building a community of individuals and peoples. On our faces and in our lives, may the word of God truly take flesh!

[Pope Benedict, Africae munus]