The ham.

The Treccani dictionary defines ‘ham’ as: ‘one who acts in theatrical performances’. In common parlance and in a figurative sense: ‘someone who adopts exaggeratedly theatrical behaviour in life; someone who puts on a show in a blatant and undignified manner’.

Many years ago, when I was still a teenager, Charles Aznavour released a beautiful song containing these words: ‘I am a ham. But genius was born with me […] but theatricality flows within me’.

A song which, if I’m not mistaken, was later covered by Massimo Ranieri some time later.

Perhaps those of us who are a bit older will also remember the original version.

A few days ago, I bumped into a young man with a VIP-like air about him, whom I’ve known since he was born.

He stopped, greeted me warmly and began telling me about his life, his work in the world of politics and his travels.

He said that one of his goals is to visit the wonders of the world and that he’d just returned from one such destination. He solemnly declared that he’d already visited several of them.

All this without me having asked anything, partly because he didn’t give me the chance. 

He was too caught up in his soliloquy and I was merely a spectator.

At the end of his speech, he tells me that he has completed dental treatment for a tooth that had been causing him a great deal of trouble and that he is still in pain […] he lists the medicines he is taking. Then he looks at me and ironically reiterates that when doctors encounter difficulties in their work, they always say it’s down to the mind.

And here came a thunderous laugh, coupled with all the ‘pathos’ with which he’d woven his narrative.

The only thing missing was the final round of applause, which didn’t come. Just a cordial ‘goodbye’.                                                                          My professional bias kicked in as I reflected on what had happened.

There are people who, rather than simply connecting with others, need to put on a show and seek the approval of others.   

This is something we all do to a certain extent, within acceptable limits, and it gives us pleasure. Such people sometimes go in search of an ‘audience’ where they can express and display their feelings and experiences, without worrying about building a relationship or a genuine connection – and once they have communicated their emotions, they leave quickly, often in search of another ‘audience’. 

They must always be the centre of attention and often express their emotions in a  theatrical manner. Everything they achieve is something grand; all their actions are ‘a triumph’.

Behind this behaviour, there is usually an enormous fear of being alone, of being abandoned. Of course, we all have these fears to some extent, but we do not resort to compensatory mechanisms of that sort.

Sometimes we are afraid of certain emotions we feel, as if we feared that what we are feeling is unhealthy. 

We must always bear in mind that what happens within our psyche is not entirely random or pathological, but purposeful and constructive. There are not only demons; there are angels too.

I can’t recall whether I’ve already expressed this idea, but I’ll reiterate it because I consider it important and because I think we’ll be less frightened if we realise we’re experiencing certain feelings.

Without referring to psychological manuals or classifications… we’ve all probably experienced feelings like those described above at certain times in our lives.

People with these characteristics are ‘theatrical’ and express their experiences in an exaggerated manner.

They can be seductive or even provocative.

They use their physical appearance in an exaggerated way to get noticed and appear interesting.

They rely more on emotion than on reflection, and tend towards superficiality and banality.

They are also easily influenced and idealise the people they admire; sometimes to the point of imitating them.

They dream of ideal love, but often become involved in unsuitable and unattainable relationships.

They exaggerate every physical sensation, even when there is no actual physical pain.

In severe cases, many people channel and project these emotions onto parts of the body that are psychologically significant to the individual and their personal history.

And so, as the young VIP mentioned above humorously put it, the psyche comes into play.

I do not wish to bore readers or come across as melodramatic myself, but many individuals have often expressed their unease through their bodies.

Some do so more visibly, others in a more subtle way – though perhaps more interesting and fascinating to an ‘insider’.

The literature often refers to ‘hysterical blindness’.

These people are unable to see properly – to a greater or lesser degree. I recall a teenager with visual problems being referred to our department’s psychological assessment (sent by the ophthalmology department).

However, it is not always accepted that objective problems may have an ‘internal’ cause, and so often either the psychological assessment – deemed offensive – is abandoned, or other solutions are sought that may give the illusion of a way out.

It also happens that some individuals, having been referred for an ‘internal’ assessment by leading Italian centres of excellence, but subsequently rejecting what was suggested to them, turn to private practitioners who offer solutions that are, unfortunately, sometimes harmful.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, Psychologist and Psychotherapist.

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [21 June 2026]

First reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (20:10–13)

This passage is one of what are known as the ‘Confessions of Jeremiah’; we might also call them the ‘Confidences of Jeremiah’. Here the prophet reveals what lies deepest in his heart, and today’s few lines sum up his feelings well. His life is a constant paradox: that which constitutes his deepest joy, his reason for living, his security, is also the source of all his suffering. It is the Word of God. It is not explicitly named in this text, but it is clearly implied. It is because he proclaims the Word of God “in season and out of season” (as St Paul would say) that he is persecuted; yet it is precisely this same Word that gives him the strength to carry on. It is often said that no one is a prophet in his own land, and this applies perfectly to Jeremiah. He was a great prophet, but this was only realised after his death. During his lifetime, his message proved too uncomfortable. He himself specifies the period of his preaching: from the thirteenth year of Josiah’s reign until the deportation from Jerusalem, that is, from 627 to 587 BC. Forty years during which he saw several kings succeed one another in Jerusalem, but very few listened to him. What was he reproached for? Simply the courage to speak the truth. And the truth was by no means reassuring: from the top to the bottom of the social ladder, breaches of the Covenant were multiplying in every sphere. Here is an example of his preaching: “They are all adulterers, a band of traitors” (Jer 9:1)… “From the least to the greatest, all are greedy for gain; from the prophet to the priest, all practise deceit” (Jer 8:10). In other words, corruption and the love of money had corroded the whole of society, and religion was nothing more than a façade. For this reason, he spent much of his life crying out, provoking, and denouncing. At times he even performed unusual acts to warn the king, the court, the priests and all those in authority who were leading the people to ruin. On a political level, he sought to open the eyes of his compatriots and dared to announce what was by now evident: Nebuchadnezzar would soon overrun Jerusalem. To make himself better understood, he performed a spectacular act: he publicly smashed a brand-new jug fresh from the potter’s hands, to announce the fate awaiting Jerusalem, which would be reduced to shards (Jer 19:1–11). But instead of listening to him, they accused him of being an accomplice of the enemy because, as the saying goes, there is none so deaf as those who will not hear.

Nevertheless, nothing and no one could divert him from his mission, and his secret lay simply in the awareness that he had been sent by God. His second secret was knowing that he was too small for the task entrusted to him and therefore did not seek strength in himself, but in God. And he experienced God’s presence at the heart of all his trials. In this regard, his prayer remains striking: “Lord, let me see the vengeance you will take upon them, for to you I have entrusted my cause.” An expression that suggests three observations. First of all, the desire for revenge is deeply human, and the prophet remains a man; his particular mission makes him neither insensitive nor a superman. Secondly, he does not seek revenge, but entrusts everything to God. Finally, beyond personal retribution, what Jeremiah ardently desires is the triumph of truth. Like every true prophet, he already knows that God’s love will be stronger than anything and that one day it will succeed in eliminating all evil from the earth. This is what he calls God’s vengeance: God’s eternal triumph over the forces of evil.

Responsorial Psalm (68/69)      

This psalm arises from the cry of a believer persecuted because of his faithfulness to God. The psalmist suffers humiliation, insults and perhaps even imprisonment, yet he continues to trust in the Lord, certain that God hears the humble and does not abandon those who belong to him. His suffering stems precisely from his love for God: “My love for your house consumes me”, and the insults directed at God also fall upon him. This experience recalls the story of the prophets of Israel, often persecuted by their own people. Among them stands out Jeremiah, who, like all true prophets, had the courage to proclaim God’s truth even when it was inconvenient. The prophet is, in fact, the voice of God in the world and, since God’s thoughts do not coincide with those of men, he inevitably goes against the tide. His word calls for justice, holiness, brotherhood and conversion, bringing to light what many would prefer to hide. For this reason, prophets often experience rejection and discouragement. Moses, Elijah and, above all, Jeremiah went through moments of profound suffering. Jeremiah even went so far as to curse the day of his birth, overwhelmed by persecution and humiliation. His experience recalls that of Job and, in a broader sense, that of the entire people of Israel in times of trial. The psalmist describes his condition as that of a man who is drowning: the waters overwhelm him, the mud drags him down, and there seems to be no hope left. Yet, even in the darkest hour, he continues to pray. The very Word of God that causes him suffering is the source of his strength. The imagery of the psalm recalls the story of Jeremiah, thrown into a cistern for denouncing the religious corruption of the people and the Temple. In the same way, Jesus will take up this prophetic tradition when he drives the merchants out of the Temple; and on that occasion, the evangelist John will apply the words of the psalm to Christ: ‘Zeal for your house will consume me’. The psalm concludes, finally, on a note of trust and thanksgiving. In biblical tradition, supplication and thanksgiving are closely linked: the believer praises God even before seeing deliverance realised, because he is certain of God’s faithfulness. For this reason, the psalmist already proclaims God’s victory, the salvation of the poor and the joy of those who seek the Lord. Thus, lamentation is transformed into hope, and the suffering of the righteous becomes a testimony to the certainty that God never abandons his faithful.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (5:12–15)

 St Paul contrasts Adam and Jesus Christ, not as two historical figures to be compared, but as two opposing ways of life. Adam represents humanity seeking happiness, power and fulfilment far from God, relying on its own strength. Jesus Christ, on the other hand, represents the man who lives in full communion with God, welcoming his love and his life. According to the account in Genesis, God created man to share in his own life. The ‘breath of life’ received from God indicates that human beings truly live only when they remain united with him. The desire for greatness, happiness and the infinite that dwells in the human heart is therefore good and corresponds to God’s plan. The serpent’s error lies in leading Adam and Eve to believe that they can become “like God” without God, through disobedience. In doing so, they voluntarily sever the vital bond with the Creator and fall into spiritual death. Paul, in fact, speaks of death and life primarily in a spiritual, not a biological, sense.

Adam thus symbolises original sin: the man who seeks to appropriate what belongs to God and ends up turning away from the source of life. Jesus Christ, on the contrary, does not seek to seize equality with God, but lives in total acceptance of the Father’s love. For this reason, He is without sin, ‘full of grace and truth’. Thanks to Christ, humanity can be restored to communion with God. In Him, the bond between God and man is perfectly realised: He draws all to Himself and enables people to receive divine life once more.

Paul thus presents two fundamental choices: to live like Christ, welcoming God’s breath and love, and growing in the spiritual life; Or to live like Adam, seeking happiness independently of God, with the result of spiritual death. Grace is not an object one possesses, but the loving relationship between God and humanity. Jesus Christ has restored this vital relationship, for which we were created. As St Augustine says: ‘You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.’ Similarly, for St John, eternal life consists in knowing and loving God and Jesus Christ. True life and true joy are found only in union with God; to seek them elsewhere is an illusion that leads to spiritual death

From the Gospel according to Matthew (10:26–33)

Jesus warns his disciples that the mission of proclaiming the Gospel will not be easy. He sends them “like sheep among wolves” and foretells persecutions, trials, floggings and even the hatred of all because of his Name. For this reason he repeats several times: Do not be afraid. The reason for this encouragement is that the truth of God cannot be stopped. All that was hidden will be revealed, and what Jesus has entrusted to his disciples must be proclaimed openly. In Christ, God’s plan of love is fully revealed, a plan that in the Old Testament had been revealed only gradually through prophets and sages. The disciples, having seen and heard Christ, cannot remain silent about what they have experienced. When Matthew writes his Gospel, Christians are already suffering persecution, especially from certain Jewish circles. This teaching therefore serves to strengthen their faithfulness. If the Church exists today, it is also because those first believers overcame their fear and remained steadfast in the faith. Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Jesus distinguishes between two kinds of danger: physical death, which the disciples may suffer as a result of persecution; and spiritual death, which is far more serious, consisting in separation from God. This is why he says: “Do not fear those who kill the body” but rather those who can cause a person to lose their communion with God. The true fear must be that of abandoning the mission by yielding to the temptation of unfaithfulness. To reassure his disciples, Jesus reminds them that they are constantly under the Father’s protection: not a single sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing it, and even the hairs on their heads are counted. God knows and watches over each one personally. Jesus also promises that whoever acknowledges him before men will be acknowledged by him before the Father. To be a Christian therefore means to declare oneself united to Christ not only in words, but through one’s life, for through Baptism we are grafted into him and share in his relationship with the Father. This is why St Paul can affirm that nothing can separate us from the love of God manifested in Christ. When Jesus says: ‘Whoever denies me before men, I too will deny him before the Father’, he is not pronouncing a definitive condemnation, but reminding us of human freedom. Like Peter, who denied Jesus during the Passion, even those who stray can always return. And Christ, as He did with Peter after the Resurrection, continues to ask but one question: Do you love me? The disciple of Christ may encounter hostility and persecution, but must not fear. The real threat is not losing one’s earthly life, but turning away from God. Those who remain faithful to Christ live in the certainty that nothing can separate them from His love.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [14 June 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (19:2–6a)

This passage from Exodus describes the moment when God is about to establish the Covenant with Israel on Mount Sinai. Before giving the commandments, God reminds the people of what he has already done for them: he has freed them from Egypt and has always guided them with love and care. The image of the eagle carrying its young on its wings aptly expresses the way in which God accompanies his people: not to make them dependent, but to teach them freedom, like a parent who teaches their children to walk on their own. Deuteronomy, too, presents God as an eagle that protects, sustains and instructs its young. The Covenant is founded on this experience of love and liberation: the people’s trust arises from the fact that God has already demonstrated his faithfulness. For this reason, in the Bible, liberation always precedes the commandments. God promises Israel: ‘You shall be my special possession among all peoples, for the whole earth belongs to me; you shall be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ The election of Israel is therefore not a privilege to boast of, but a mission received in order to learn to love. Israel was chosen not because it was stronger or more numerous, but because it was loved by God. Over time, the people would come to understand more fully that God is not merely the God of Israel, but the Lord of the earth. Israel’s vocation is therefore universal: to be a sign of God’s presence for all peoples. The expression ‘a kingdom of priests, a holy nation’ indicates that the whole people is consecrated to God. This idea will be taken up by Christianity: according to the Apostle Peter, all the baptised share in a ‘royal priesthood’ and are called to proclaim the wonders of God. The central message is that God liberates, educates for freedom and calls his people to live a relationship of trust with him, not as an exclusive privilege, but as service and witness for the good of all.

Responsorial Psalm (99/100) 

This Psalm was composed to accompany a thanksgiving sacrifice in the Temple of Jerusalem. A liturgical atmosphere emerges from its very words: the people are invited to praise God, serve him with joy and enter his presence to give him thanks. The central theme of the Psalm is therefore the Covenant between God and Israel. Each verse recalls the memory of the deliverance from Egypt and the faithful love with which God chose and guided his people. For Israel, giving thanks means first and foremost remembering that God delivered them when they were slaves in Egypt and made them a people. He then entered into a covenant of communion with this people. The invocation “Praise the Lord, all you of the earth” proclaims that God is the true King and anticipates the day when all humanity will recognise his lordship. Israel thus understands that its election is not an exclusive privilege, but a mission in the service of all peoples. The expression “Serve the Lord with gladness” thus takes on a special meaning: after having been slaves in Egypt, the Israelites learn that service to God is not slavery, but a free response of love. When the Psalm states “He has made us, and we are his”, it does not refer primarily to the creation of man, but to the birth of Israel as the people of the Covenant. God has given identity and freedom to those who were slaves and scattered. The words “We are his people” recall the fundamental promise of the Covenant: “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. The Psalm concludes by celebrating two essential characteristics of God: his eternal love and his unfailing faithfulness. In the Bible, in fact, “love and truth or faithfulness” are the expressions that best describe God’s relationship with his people. The believer is called to acknowledge the Lord as the one and only God, remembering with gratitude his work of liberation and trusting in his love and faithfulness that endure forever.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (5:6–11) 

For Saint Paul, the coming of Jesus Christ marks a decisive turning point in human history. Before Christ, humanity, enslaved by sin, was unable to find the way back to God on its own and drifted ever further from Him. The great news of the Gospel is that Christ has set us back on the right path. Paul affirms that we have been justified and reconciled with God not because of our own merits, but by pure grace. It is a free gift: God takes the initiative and offers salvation to all through Jesus Christ. The expression ‘Christ died for us’ does not mean that God willed or demanded the violent death of His Son as compensation for humanity’s sins. God is love and does not act according to a logic of debts and payments. Jesus’ death must be understood as the consequence of His total fidelity to the mission He received: to proclaim God’s love, forgiveness, non-violence and mercy. Like a man who risks his life to save others, Jesus accepted the risk of being rejected. He was killed by men, a victim of hatred and violence, not by God’s will. Until the very end, however, he continued to bear witness to forgiveness. Looking at the cross, we then discover the true face of God: not an angry God seeking vengeance, but a God of love and mercy. In Jesus, who forgives even his persecutors, the goodness of the Father is fully revealed. The reconciliation of which Paul speaks consists precisely in overcoming mistrust towards God, that very mistrust represented by Adam. Thanks to the Holy Spirit, humanity can finally live at peace with God and receive his love. This is why Paul affirms that God’s love has been poured into our hearts: through Christ we are once again brought into communion with God and become his children. Salvation, therefore, is a free gift from God. Christ’s death is not a price demanded by God, but the supreme testimony of his love and forgiveness, which reconcile us with the Father and open up a new life for us.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (9:36–10:8) 

The people of the Old Testament had already discovered that God is merciful, that is, he bends down to human suffering. Whilst Jesus in the Gospel shows the same compassion, he does not limit himself to feeling pity, but intervenes concretely to heal and set free. This is why the mission of Jesus and his apostles is first and foremost a mission of healing. Jesus proclaims the Kingdom of God and, at the same time, offers visible signs of it: he heals the sick, frees people from evil spirits and restores life and hope. When he sends out his disciples, he entrusts them with the same task: proclaim that the Kingdom is near and fight evil in all its forms. Jesus is moved by compassion not only for individual suffering, but also for the whole people, whom he sees ‘as sheep without a shepherd’. In him are fulfilled the Old Testament promises concerning the Messiah-shepherd who would gather and guide his people. When Jesus asks the apostles to turn first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, he does not exclude other peoples, but recalls Israel’s particular mission: to be the first recipient of salvation and then to bring it to all nations. “Freely you have received, freely give”: this expression sums up the life of the believer. Everything we receive from God is, in fact, free. His grace cannot be bought or earned; it is a gift of love. Yet we often struggle to accept this gratuitousness and think we must “earn” God’s favour. Just as God gives freely, so too are we called to give freely. This means helping, serving, loving and forgiving without seeking rewards, recognition or personal gain. Indeed, Jesus invites his disciples to love even their enemies unconditionally and not to wait for others to deserve our help. Those who have experienced God’s free forgiveness are called in turn to become instruments of forgiveness and mercy. Finally, Jesus teaches trust: he chose apostles who were very different from one another and entrusted them with a great mission without demanding guarantees. So too today, God continues to call fragile people to collaborate in his work. Ultimately, we understand that the Kingdom of God is realised in spite of our frailties and, at times, our betrayals. It is also manifested through healing, compassion and, above all, in the victory over evil. Those who have received God’s love freely are called to give it to others with the same generosity, trust and mercy, in the certainty that God is the author of all things and we are merely instruments in his hands.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 6:19-23)

«Where your Treasure is, your heart will be there» (v.21). It is not a tasteless personal or institutional problem; on the contrary, it is indispensable for to find again yourself.

Ignoring it means giving additional breath to it, making grow out of proportion; making it even more out of time and difficult to read - and identify its therapies.

In order to understand and activate different resources, each community must go through the moments of the most severe verification - overcoming the stumbling block ‘forward’, "outgoing".

In the form of Relationship, everything opens up intense life - which integrates and goes beyond self-love, the thirst for domination.

This frees us from the "old", that is, it closes a cycle of paths already developed - to make us return as newborns.

Hope that has weight dismantles the inessential; it expels the noise of thoughts that are no longer in tune with our growth, and introduces dreamy energies, a wealth of possibilities.

There will be initial resistance, but development is predisposed.

Hope sacrifices ballasts and activates us according to the ‘inner divine’. It opens the doors wide to a new phase, brighter and corresponding.

The earth’s treasures quickly blind; likewise they pass: suddenly. The age of global crisis slams it in our face.

Yet, it is a necessary pain.

We understand: the new paths are not traced by goods, but by the Void that acts as a cavity.

The religiosity good for all seasons gives way to the unprecedent life of Faith.

Here lies the Art of discernment and pastoral care: it should be able to introduce new competitive, different energies - cosmic and personal - that prepare unpublished, open and free synthesises.

We know this; and yet in some intriguing circles and business connections, the lust for possession does not allow them to see clearly.

The dulling of eyes sick with robbery prevailed. First here and there, gradually occupying the soul.

As if to say: there is another experience of the "divine", indifferent.

And the litmus test is precisely that of the petty scrutinizing (vv.22-23) that holds back. With the gaze that closes the horizon of existence.

Instead, in the attempts and paths of Faith that are not satisfied, life becomes bright with creative Love that blooms again, and puts everyone at ease.

Even the old can re-emerge in this new spirit, this time perennial. Because there are other Heights. Because what makes intimate to God is nothing external.

The authentic Church aroused by clear ‘visions’ always reveals something portentous: fruitfulness from nullity, life from its effusion, birth from apparent sterility.

A river of unthinkable harmonies will reconnect the reading of events and the action of believers to the work of the Spirit, without barriers.

Because when someone surrenders their normalized thinking, and settles getting down, the new advances.

The choice is now inexorable: between death and life; between greed and «darkness» (v.23), or Happiness.

The first step is to admit that you have to make a journey.

To internalize and live the message:

Where is your Treasure? Is your heart and eye simple?

Have you ever experienced sides that others judge to be inconclusive [from a material point of view] and instead have prepared your new paths?

[Friday 11th wk. in O.T.  June 19, 2026]

(Mt 6:19-23)

«Where your treasure is, there your heart will be» (v.21). This is not an abused, insipid personal or institutional issue; it is one for easy irony.

To ignore it is to give it further breathing space, making it grow out of all proportion; making it even more out of time and difficult to read - and to identify its treatment.

All this, however, must be done by putting precipitation in brackets... in the spirit of broader understanding. It is understood that in order to grasp itself within and activate different resources, each community must go through moments of the most severe verification.

Even for denominational churches with a wide and prestigious tradition, the awareness of being losers in this respect today is indispensable to find oneself. Overcoming the 'forward', 'outgoing' stumbling block.

We read in the Encyclical Spe Salvi n.2 ["Faith is Hope"]:

"Hope is a central word in biblical faith - to the point that in several passages the words 'faith' and 'hope' seem interchangeable [...].

How decisive it was for the awareness of the early Christians that they had received a reliable hope as a gift, is also shown where Christian existence is compared with life before faith or with the situation of the followers of other religions [...].

Their gods had proved questionable and no hope emanated from their contradictory myths. Despite the gods, they were 'godless' and consequently found themselves in a dark world, facing a dark future. 'In nihil ab nihilo quam cito recidimus' (In nothing from nothing how soon we fall back) says an epitaph from that era [...].

It appears as a distinctive element of Christians that they have a future: it is not that they know in detail what awaits them, but they know on the whole that their life does not end in a vacuum.

Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does the present also become liveable. So we can now say: Christianity was not just 'good news' - a communication of hitherto unknown content.

In our language we would say: the Christian message was not just 'informative', but 'performative'. This means: the gospel is not just a communication of things that can be known, but a communication that produces facts and changes lives.

The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown wide open. He who has hope lives differently; he has been given a new life'.

In the form of the Relationship, everything opens up intense life - which integrates and overcomes self-love, the thirst for domination.

This liberates from the 'old', that is, it closes a cycle of paths already set - to make us return as newborns.

The Hope that has weight dismantles the inessential; it expels the noise of thoughts that are no longer in tune with our growth, and introduces dreamy energies, a wealth of possibilities.

There will be initial resistance, but development sets in.

Hope sacrifices ballasts and activates us according to the 'divine within'. It opens the door to a new, brighter, corresponding phase.

Earth's treasures quickly blind; likewise they pass away: suddenly. The age of global crisis shoves it in our faces.

Yet, it is a necessary pain.

We understand: the new paths are not traced by goods, nor by devout memories, but by the Void, which acts as a gap to common, taken for granted, reassuring easiness.

Religiosity good for all seasons gives way to the unprecedented life of Faith.

This is where the Art of discernment and pastoral work comes in: it should know how to introduce new competitive, dissimilar energies - cosmic and personal - that prepare unprecedented, open, gratuitous syntheses.

We know this, and yet in some prestigious and already wealthy circles, the greed to possess under the guise of necessity does not allow them to see clearly.

It happens even to long-standing consecrated persons - it is not clear why such greedy, perfunctory duplicity.

Do we still want to emerge, raising more confusions? After all, we are dissatisfied with our mediocre choices.

At the beginning of the Vocation, we felt the need for a Relationship that would bring Meaning and a Centre to our feriality...

Then we deviated, perhaps out of dissatisfaction or for reasons of calculation and convenience - then the dullness of our robbing eyes prevailed. First here and there, gradually occupying the soul.

Even in some church leaders and circles of prominence, the basis of existence has become the volume of ropey business [scheming gangs, Pope Francis would say].

In multiple realities, the vain scene, the bag of commerce, the thrill of getting on the board, have supplanted real hearts - and eyes themselves.

As if to say: there is another experience of the 'divine', which is a doomsday: between one Psalm and another, better than Love becomes feeling powerful, secure, celebrated, respected around.

[God and accumulation give different orders? No problem: let it be understood that one does it for 'his' Glory].

So much for the common good.Not a few people are realising that counting is the most popular sport in various multi-multiple companies, fantastically embellished with events and initiatives (to cover what is really 'worth').

And litmus test is precisely that mean-spirited scrutiny (vv.22-23) that behind dense scenes, holds back, even judges, and keeps a distance from others.

Such is the gaze that closes the horizon of existence: the immediately at hand, and of circumstance, counts.

A seemingly superabundant belief - coincidentally without the prominence of Hope - is condemning us to the world's worst denatality rate.

The panorama of our devoutly empty villages and towns is discouraging.

But one revels in one's own niche, and in the small or grandiose situation.

The important thing is that everything is epidermically adorned.

Under the peculiar bell tower that sets the pace for the usual things, many people keep 'their' too much to themselves. Content to sacralise selfishness with grandiose proclamations, or more modestly, with the display of beautiful statues, customs, banners, colourful costumes and mannerisms.

Instead, according to the Gospels, in attempts and paths of Faith that are not satisfied with an empty spirituality, life becomes bright with creative Love that flourishes, and puts everyone at ease.

Even the old can re-emerge in this new spirit. For there are other Heights. For what makes one intimate with God is nothing external.

The authentic Church aroused by limpid 'visions' - without papier-mache and duplicity - always reveals something portentous: fruitfulness from nullity, life from the outpouring of it, birth from apparent sterility.

A river of unimagined attunements will reconnect the reading of events and the action of believers to the work of the Spirit, without barriers.

For when normalised thinking gives way, and settles down, the new advances.

The choice is now inexorable: between death and life; between longing and "darkness" (v.23), or Happiness.

The first step is to admit that one must make a journey.

To internalise and live the message:

Where is your Treasure? Is your heart and eye simple?

Have you ever experienced sides that others judge to be inconclusive (from a material point of view) and instead have prepared your new paths?

4. We have raised the question: can our encounter with the God who in Christ has shown us his face and opened his heart be for us too not just “informative” but “performative”—that is to say, can it change our lives, so that we know we are redeemed through the hope that it expresses? Before attempting to answer the question, let us return once more to the early Church. It is not difficult to realize that the experience of the African slave-girl Bakhita was also the experience of many in the period of nascent Christianity who were beaten and condemned to slavery. Christianity did not bring a message of social revolution like that of the ill-fated Spartacus, whose struggle led to so much bloodshed. Jesus was not Spartacus, he was not engaged in a fight for political liberation like Barabbas or Bar- Kochba. Jesus, who himself died on the Cross, brought something totally different: an encounter with the Lord of all lords, an encounter with the living God and thus an encounter with a hope stronger than the sufferings of slavery, a hope which therefore transformed life and the world from within. What was new here can be seen with the utmost clarity in Saint Paul's Letter to Philemon. This is a very personal letter, which Paul wrote from prison and entrusted to the runaway slave Onesimus for his master, Philemon. Yes, Paul is sending the slave back to the master from whom he had fled, not ordering but asking: “I appeal to you for my child ... whose father I have become in my imprisonment ... I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart ... perhaps this is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back for ever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, as a beloved brother ...” (Philem 10-16). Those who, as far as their civil status is concerned, stand in relation to one an other as masters and slaves, inasmuch as they are members of the one Church have become brothers and sisters—this is how Christians addressed one another. By virtue of their Baptism they had been reborn, they had been given to drink of the same Spirit and they received the Body of the Lord together, alongside one another. Even if external structures remained unaltered, this changed society from within. When the Letter to the Hebrews says that Christians here on earth do not have a permanent homeland, but seek one which lies in the future (cf. Heb 11:13-16; Phil 3:20), this does not mean for one moment that they live only for the future: present society is recognized by Christians as an exile; they belong to a new society which is the goal of their common pilgrimage and which is anticipated in the course of that pilgrimage.

[Pope Benedict, Spe Salvi no.4]

Psalm 48:14-21 - Human wealth does not save

1. As it gradually develops, the Liturgy of Vespers presents to us the sapiential Psalm 49[48], whose second part has just been proclaimed (cf. vv. 14-21). This section of the Psalm, like the previous part (cf. vv. 1-13) on which we have already reflected, also condemns the illusion to which idolizing riches gives rise. This is one of humanity's constant temptations: clinging to money as though it were endowed with some invincible power, we allude ourselves that we can even "buy off death" and keep it at bay.

2. In reality, death bursts in with its ability to demolish every illusion, sweeping away every obstacle and humbling our pride (cf. v. 14), ushering into the next world rich and poor, sovereigns and subjects, foolish and wise alike. The Psalmist has sketched a vivid image, showing death as a shepherd firmly driving his flock of corruptible creatures (cf. v. 15). Thus, Psalm 49[48] offers us a realistic and stern meditation on death, the unavoidable and fundamental destination of human existence.

We often seek to ignore this reality in every possible way, distancing the very thought of it from our horizons. This effort, however, apart from being useless, is also inappropriate. Reflection on death is in fact beneficial because it relativizes all the secondary realities that we have unfortunately absolutized, namely, riches, success and power. Consequently, Sirach, an Old Testament sage, warns us: "In all you do, remember the end of your life, and then you will never sin" (7: 36).

3. However, here comes a crucial turning point in our Psalm. If money cannot "ransom" us from death (cf. Ps 49[48]: 8-9), yet there is One who can save us from that dark, traumatic shadow on the horizon. In fact, the Psalmist says: "God will ransom me from death and take my soul to himself" (v. 16).

Thus, a horizon of hope and immortality unfolds before the just. The response to the question asked in the first part of the Psalm, "why should I fear", (v. 6) is: "do not fear when a man grows rich" (v. 17).

4. When the just person, poor and humiliated in history, reaches the ultimate boundary of life, he has no possessions, he has nothing to pay as a "ransom" to stave off death and remove himself from its icy embrace. Here is the great surprise: God himself pays the ransom and snatches his faithful from the hands of death, for he is the only One who can conquer death that human creatures cannot escape.

The Psalmist therefore invites us "not to fear" nor to envy the rich who grow ever more arrogant in their glory (cf. ibid.) since, when death comes, they will be stripped of everything and unable to take with them either gold or silver, fame or success (cf. vv. 18-19). The faithful, instead, will not be abandoned by the Lord, who will point out to him "the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence, at your right hand happiness for ever" (cf. Ps 16[15]: 11)

5. And then, at the conclusion of the sapiential meditation on Psalm 49[48], we will be able to apply the words of Jesus which describe to us the true treasure that challenges death: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Mt 6: 19-21).

6. As a corollary to Christ's words, in his Comment on Psalm 49[48], St Ambrose reasserts firmly and clearly the inconsistency of riches: "They are all perishable and go faster than they came. A treasure of this kind is but a dream. On waking, it has disappeared, for the person who rids himself of the intoxication of this world and acquires the sobriety of virtue will despise all these things and attach no importance whatsoever to money" (Commento a Dodici Salmi, n. 23: SAEMO, VIII, Milan-Rome, 1980, p. 275).

7. The Bishop of Milan therefore invites us not to be ingenuously attracted by human wealth and glory: "Do not fear, even when you see the magnification of some powerful family's glory! Know how to look deeply, with attention, and it will appear empty to you unless it contains a crumb of the fullness of faith". Indeed, before Christ's coming, man was decadent and empty: "The ruinous fall of that ancient Adam emptied us, but Christ's grace has filled us. He emptied himself to fill us and make the fullness of virtue dwell in human flesh". St Ambrose concludes that for this very reason, we can now exclaim with St John, "And from his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace" (Jn 1: 16) (cf. ibid.).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 27 October 2004]

2. The poor, always and everywhere, evangelize us, because they enable us to discover in new ways the true face of the Father. “They have much to teach us. Besides participating in the sensus fidei, they know the suffering Christ through their own sufferings. It is necessary that we all let ourselves be evangelized by them. The new evangelization is an invitation to recognize the salvific power of their lives and to place them at the centre of the Church’s journey. We are called to discover Christ in them, to lend them our voice in their causes, but also to be their friends, to listen to them, to understand them and to welcome the mysterious wisdom that God wants to communicate to us through them. Our commitment does not consist exclusively of activities or programmes of promotion and assistance; what the Holy Spirit mobilizes is not an unruly activism, but above all an attentiveness that considers the other in a certain sense as one with ourselves. This loving attentiveness is the beginning of a true concern for their person which inspires me effectively to seek their good” (Evangelii Gaudium, 198-199).

[Pope Francis, Message for World Day of the Poor 2021]

Sons’ Prayer: performance or Listening?

Mt 6:7-15 (v.13)

«When you pray, do not babble like the pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their wordiness» (Mt 6:7; cf. Lk 11:1).

The God of religions was named with an overabundance of high-sounding honorific epithets, as if he craved ever more numerous ranks of incensers.

The «Father» is not accompanied by prestigious titles. A child does not address the parent as a very high, eternal and omnipotent, but the a reliable family Person who transmits life to him.

And the son does not imagine that he has to offer external cries and acknowledgments: the Father looks at needs, not merits.

«Et ne nos inducas in tentationem»: ancient Prayer of the sons.

«Do not induce us [Lead us not into]» is (in the Latin and Greek sense: «until the end») an ancient Symbol of the ‘reborn in Christ’, in the experience of real life.

In religions there are clearly opposed demons and angels: disordered and dark powers, contrary to the bright and "right" ones.

But by dint of relegating the former, the worst continually resurface, until they win the game and spread.

In the lives of the saints we see these great women and men strangely always under temptation - because they disdain evil, therefore they do not know it.

Gradually, however, the little constant naggings becomes overwhelming crowds.

The persons of Faith do not act according to pre-established and superficial models, not even religious ones; they are aware that they are not heroes or paradigm phenomena.

That is why they rely on. They let intimate problems go by: understood its strength!

This is the meaning of the formula of the Our Father, in its original sense: «and lead us not into [the end of] temptation [trial] (because we know our weakness)».

If, on the other hand, our 'counterpart' becomes a protagonist, a one-sided pivot, a constant afterthought, and a block, we are done for.

Pain, failures, sadness, frustrations, weaknesses, a thousand anxieties, too many falls, accustom us to experience transgressions as part of ourselves: Condition to be evaluated, not "guilt" to be cut horizontally.

In the process of true salvific transmutation, that signal speaks of us: within a deviation or the eccentricity there is a secret or a knowledge to be found, for a ‘new personal birth’.

Looking at the discomforts and oppositions, we realize that these critical sides of being become like a malleable magma, which approaches our healing more quickly. As if through a permanent, radical conversion… because it involves and belongs to us; not in peripheral mode, but basically, of Seed and Nature.

Absorbed patterns and beliefs do not allow us to understand that the passionate life is composed of opposing states, of competitive energies - which must not be disguised in order to be considered decent people.

Perceiving and integrating such depths, we lay down the idea and atmosphere of impending danger, devoid of further opportunity; only for death.

We become mature, without dissociation or hysterical states resulting from contrived identifications, nor disesteem for an important part of us.

In short, straits and "crosses" have something to tell us.

They shake the soul to the root, sweep away the absorbed masks, ignite the person, and save the life.

In this way, inconveniences and anxieties help us. They hide capabilities and possibilities that we do not yet see.

In the virtue of the shaky yet unique exceptionality for each person, here is the true journey opening up.

Path of the Father and of the heart, Way that wants to guide us to alternative trajectories, new dimensions of existence.

The difference of the Faith, compared to ancient religiosity [in the sense of the ‘Cross-inside’]?

It is in the consciousness that only the sick heal, only the incomplete grow.

Only the halting women and men regain expression, evolve. And falling, they snap forward.

[Thursday 11th wk. in O.T.  June 18, 2026]