18th Sunday in Ordinary Time B (4 August 2024)

1. The manna "is the bread that the Lord has given you": this is how Moses explains to the people the meaning of the manna, which has various symbols in the Bible. The choice of the account of the manna in the first reading, taken from the book of Exodus, is linked to the "Eucharistic" discourse that Jesus gave in the synagogue of Capernaum. As many as 13 times, St John evokes the figure of Moses and the manna is mentioned five times as a symbol of the "bread of life". But what is manna? One morning the wandering Jews in the desert woke up and discovered next to their camps "a fine and grainy thing, minute as the frost on the earth" that had miraculously rained down between heaven and earth; they continued to find it every morning during their exodus in the desert. They gathered it every day except the Sabbath and kneaded it to make flatbreads to be baked with the vague taste of pasta in oil. Harvesting ceased, as we read in the book of Joshua, on entering the promised land (Jas 5:11-12). Manna has various meanings in the Bible: firstly, it is 'the bread' with which God feeds his people and tests them when they complain and murmur against him in the wilderness. It is a twofold test: firstly, Israel must learn the lesson of gratitude to the One who provides everything; and secondly, being hard-hearted people never content with anything, they must learn to remain faithful to the Lord's orders and commandments, who asks them to collect only enough manna for every single day because the surplus rots. In other words, God also educates the people he has chosen as his own.  In other books of the Old Testament, especially in the Psalms, manna becomes the symbol of God's word and divine love that continues to spread over humanity and finally, especially in the Jewish tradition, manna becomes the 'food of the messianic age'.  Ultimately, the manna in the desert also becomes for us Christians the sign of God's faithfulness and of our effort to trust him and believe his promises as we advance towards Heaven, our final homeland.

2. Psalm 77/78, of which we proclaim today only a few brief passages as a responsorial psalm, takes up the theme of God's faithfulness and of man's struggle to trust him.  The Lord "rained manna on them for food and gave them bread from heaven. Man ate the bread of the strong, he gave them food in abundance' (v.v. 23-24).  Even though gratitude for such a mysterious gift emerges here, Psalm 77/78 as a whole tells the true story of Israel, which unfolds between God's faithfulness and the fickleness of the people, even though they are always aware of the importance of preserving the memory of God's works. For faith to continue to be spread, three conditions are needed: the testimony of one who can say that God has intervened in his life; the courage to share this personal experience and pass it on faithfully; finally, it takes the willingness of a community to preserve the faith handed down by the ancestors as an inalienable inheritance. Israel knows that faith is not a baggage of intellectual notions, but the living experience of God's gifts and mercy. Here is the spiritual fabric of this psalm where in no less than seventy-two verses the faith of Israel is sung, founded in the memory of the liberation from slavery and on the memory of the long troubled pilgrimage from Egypt to Sinai marked by unfaithfulness and inconstancy: despite everything, faith is handed down from generation to generation. The strongest risk to faith is idolatry as denounced by all the prophets, a current risk in every age, today easy to recognise in the signs and gestures performed and flaunted as the boast of emancipated freedom. The psalmist denounces this idolatry as the cause of humanity's misfortune. Until man discovers the true face of God, not as he imagines it but as he is in truth, he will find the road to happiness barred because all kinds of idols block our path to responsible freedom. Superstition, fetishism, witchcraft, thirst for money, hunger for power and pleasure, worship of the person and ideologies force us to live in the regime of fear preventing us from knowing the true face of the living God. In verse 8 of the psalm (77/78), which we do not find in the liturgy today, the psalmist indicates unfaithfulness with the image of the valiant archer who fails and fails in his mission: "The sons of Ephraim, valiant archers, turned their backs in the days of battle". If today's 'cancel culture' wants to make us forget that everything is a gift in life, we fall into a sadness full of ingratitude, going so far as to mutter angrily: 'God does not exist, and if he does exist, he does not love me, indeed he has never loved me'. It follows that the dark clouds of ingratitude and anger sadden life and only the liberating experience of faith dispels and disperses them because it makes us rediscover that God exists, loves and forgives: his name is Mercy!

3. In order not to give in to the temptation of idolatry, which is fashionable today, God offers us a twofold nourishment: material food and spiritual food expressed in the "sign" of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes with which Jesus feeds an immense crowd. In the synagogue of Capernaum, Jesus takes this miracle as the starting point for the long discourse on the "bread of life" that is the Eucharist. A discourse that will continue in the coming Sundays, and has a surprising incipit at first sight. To the people who ask him a simple question: "Rabbi, when did you come here?" he does not answer directly, but starts with a solemn formula: "Verily, verily I say unto you", similar to that of the prophets in the Old Testament: "The Lord's prayer".  He draws attention to something important and difficult to understand, which he is about to say, and three times the listeners interrupt him with objections. With educational and provocative skill, using metaphorical and symbolic language, Jesus also leads us, step by step, to the revelation of the central mystery of faith: the mystery of the "Word who became flesh and dwelt among us" by offering his life on the cross for the salvation of mankind. In the entire discourse on the "bread of life" we hear resound the unsurpassed meditation of the prologue of the fourth gospel: Jesus is the Word of the Father who came into the world to give, to those who accept him, the power to become children of God, "to those who believe in his name and have been begotten of God" (cf. Jn 1:12). And to be clear, he immediately says that the people did not grasp the sign of the miracle: "You sought me out not because you saw signs, but because you ate of those loaves and were satisfied".  As if to say, you are happy because of what you have eaten, but you have not grasped the essential: I did not come to satisfy your hunger for material food, but this bread is the sign of something more important. Indeed, it was not I who acted, but the heavenly Father who sent me to give you a different food that preserves you for eternal life.  In fact, the distinction between material food and spiritual food was a theme dear to the Jewish religion, as is well understood in Deuteronomy: God "fed you with manna that you did not know... to make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but by what comes from the mouth of the Lord" (Deut 8:3) and in the book of Wisdom: "You fed your people with angel food, you offered them bread from heaven that was ready-made without effort, capable of providing every delight and satisfying every taste.  This food of yours manifested your sweetness towards your children; it was adapted to the taste of those who swallowed it and became what each one desired...not the different kinds of fruit nourish man, but your word preserves those who believe in you" (Wis.16:20-28). The listeners understand what Jesus is referring to and ask: "What must we do to do the works of God?".  Jesus then presents himself as the expected Messiah: "This is the work of God: that you believe in him whom he has sent. And why believe? Moses performed the miracle of the manna and at that time great was the expectation for the promised manna as the food of the messianic age. The third question is therefore understood: "What work do you do that we may believe?" and Jesus answers: "My Father gives you the bread from heaven, the true bread". Misunderstanding does not stop him in his self-revelation and the Gospel text today closes with the proclamation of the Eucharist: "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst'. The secret then is to have Faith! 

Good Sunday to all + Giovanni D'Ercole

P.S. I add today, memorial of the holy curate of Ars, Jean-Marie Vianney, this thought of his on faith and the Eucharist: "What joy for a Christian who has faith, who, rising from the Holy Table, leaves with all of heaven in his heart! Ah, happy the house in which such Christians dwell!... what respect one must have for them, during the day. To have, in the home, a second tabernacle where the good God has truly dwelt in body and soul!"

Prophecy, Revelation

(Mt 14:1-12)

Those who are cloaked in luster and power become ambitious, bold and willing to any violence for a false point of honor.

The courageous who denounces abuse is cut off, but the voice of his martyrdom will no longer be silent. That’s why the episode doesn’t induce Jesus to greater prudence.

Tyrants mock the isolated, uncomfortable and defenceless, but leaders and powerful are also cowards: they do not intend to alienate popular fame from themselves.

Besides being spineless, here Herod Antipas appears superstitious, even influenced by Hellenistic beliefs about the reappearance of the dead.

In addition, he thought of the men of God as doers of “miracles” - an ambiguous term, which some new translations avoid (cf. v.2).

Jesus never attended the new Herodian capital, Tiberias, the city of court palaces, built in diplomatic homage to the Roman emperor - after Sepphoris, where Jesus also worked.

Generic and confusing religiosity can adapt to every season and be made their own even by those who think that the others’ lives are worth nothing, but a Prophet does not settle on the whim of corrupt systems.

In the Palestinian villages the life of the people was harassed by taxes and abuses of landowners [who did not even reside on the spot] and controlled by the perfect combination of interests between civil and religious power.

The leaders of the popular faith, orthodox, subordinate and “befitting”, were at leash of the authorities on the territory. They considered themselves definitive, and found strength in the coalition.

It seemed absurd that in that society someone dared to break through the omertous wall that guaranteed the troublemakers - the guides, the bullies even of the lowest level - to consider themselves untouchable.

Faced with the blackmail (without too many compliments) of the privileged who had control of every social and cultural class, it seemed impossible to start a new path, or say and do anything not aligned.

The question of "Jesus, Who is he?" grows throughout the Gospels.

The statement of people's opinions (e.g. Mt 14:1-2; Mk 6:14-16; Lk 9:7-9) suggests that even around the first assemblies of believers there was an attempt to understand Christ from what was already known [from the criteria of Scripture and tradition, from ancient - even superstitious - beliefs and suggestions].

But the man of God is not simply a purifier of the Temple, nor a patchworker of conformist religiosity. He overturns popular, emotional or standard hopes.

In this way, each Prophet troubles all the “rank and file” characters, who hold the exclusiveness.

John and Jesus challenge and attract upon themselves the revenge of those who try to perpetuate the prerogatives of the old cosmos, and the wrath of those who are exposed in their hypocrisies.

It’s the real difficulty that the Proclamation of the New Kingdom in the world encounters. 

His contemptuous refusal and each assassination attempt will be a litmus test of our singular and renewed testimony, the revelation of which will run parallel to the Two.

[Saturday 17th wk. in O.T.  August 3, 2024]

We see this great figure, this force in the Passion, in resistance to the powerful. We wonder: what gave birth to this life, to this interiority so strong, so upright, so consistent, spent so totally for God in preparing the way for Jesus? The answer is simple: it was born from the relationship with God, from prayer, which was the thread that guided him throughout his existence. John was the divine gift for which his parents Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for so many years (cf. Lk 1:13); a great gift, humanly impossible to hope for, because they were both advanced in years and Elizabeth was barren (cf. Lk 1:7); yet nothing is impossible to God (cf. Lk 1:36). The announcement of this birth happened precisely in the place of prayer, in the temple of Jerusalem, indeed it happened when Zechariah had the great privilege of entering the holiest place in the temple to offer incense to the Lord (cf. Lk 1:8-20). John the Baptist’s birth was also marked by prayer: the Benedictus, the hymn of joy, praise and thanksgiving which Zechariah raises to the Lord and which we recite every morning in Lauds, exalts God’s action in history and prophetically indicates the mission of their son John: to go before the Son of God made flesh to prepare his ways (cf. Lk 1:67-79).

The entire existence of the Forerunner of Jesus was nourished by his relationship with God, particularly the period he spent in desert regions (cf. Lk 1:80). The desert regions are places of temptation but also where man acquires a sense of his own poverty because once deprived of material support and security, he understands that the only steadfast reference point is God himself. John the Baptist, however, is not only a man of prayer, in permanent contact with God, but also a guide in this relationship. The Evangelist Luke, recalling the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples, the Our Father, notes that the request was formulated by the disciples in these words: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his own disciples” (cf. Lk 11:1).

Dear brothers and sisters, celebrating the martyrdom of St John the Baptist reminds us too, Christians of this time, that with love for Christ, for his words and for the Truth, we cannot stoop to compromises. The Truth is Truth; there are no compromises. Christian life demands, so to speak, the “martyrdom” of daily fidelity to the Gospel, the courage, that is, to let Christ grow within us and let him be the One who guides our thought and our actions. However, this can happen in our life only if we have a solid relationship with God. Prayer is not time wasted, it does not take away time from our activities, even apostolic activities, but exactly the opposite is true: only if we are able to have a faithful, constant and trusting life of prayer will God himself give us the ability and strength to live happily and serenely, to surmount difficulties and to witness courageously to him. St John the Baptist, intercede for us, that we may be ever able to preserve the primacy of God in our life. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 29 August 2012]

1. [...] Christian tradition commemorates the martyrdom of St John the Baptist; the Messiah himself says in praise of him: "none born of woman is greater" (cf. Lk 7: 28). He gave to God the supreme witness of his blood, sacrificing his life for truth and justice; indeed, his head was cut off at the orders of Herod, whom he had dared to tell that it was not lawful to take his brother's wife (cf. Mc 6: 17-29).

2. In the Encyclical Veritatis Splendor, recalling the sacrifice of John the Baptist (cf. n. 91), I observed that martyrdom is "an outstanding sign of the holiness of the Church" (n. 93). Indeed, it "represents the high point of the witness to moral truth" (ibid.).

Although relatively few are called to make this supreme sacrifice, it is nonetheless "a consistent witness which all Christians must daily be ready to make, even at the cost of suffering and grave sacrifice" (ibid.). At times, a truly heroic effort is also needed in daily life, in order not to give in to the difficulties that are an incentive to compromise and to live the Gospel "sine glossa".

3. The heroic example of John the Baptist reminds us of the martyrs for the faith who down the centuries followed courageously in his footsteps. I recall in particular the multitude of Christians in the last century who were also victims of religious hatred in various European nations. Today too, in some parts of the world, believers are still subjected to harsh trials for adhering to Christ and his Church.

May these brothers and sisters of ours feel the full solidarity of the entire Ecclesial Community! Let us entrust them to the Blessed Virgin, Queen of Martyrs, whom we call on together.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 29 August 2004]

A man, John, and a road, which is that of Jesus, indicated by the Baptist, but is also ours, in which we are all called at the moment of trial.

It starts from the figure of John, "the great John: in the words of Jesus "the greatest man born of a woman"" the reflection of Pope Francis in the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Friday 6 February. The Gospel of Mark (6:14-29) recounts the imprisonment and martyrdom of this "man faithful to his mission; the man who suffered many temptations" and who "never, never betrayed his vocation". A man 'faithful' and 'of great authority, respected by all: the great of that time'.

Pope Francis paused to analyse his figure: 'What came out of his mouth was right. His heart was just'. He was so great that "Jesus will also say of him that 'it is Elijah who has returned, to clean the house, to prepare the way'". And John "was conscious that his duty was only to proclaim: to announce the proximity of the Messiah. He was conscious, as St Augustine makes us reflect, that he was the voice only, the Word was another'. Even when "he was tempted to "rob" this truth, he remained just: "I am not, behind me comes, but I am not: I am the servant; I am the servant; I am the one who opens the doors, so that he may come".

At this point the Pontiff introduced the concept of the way, because, he recalled, 'John is the forerunner: forerunner not only of the Lord's entry into public life, but of the Lord's entire life'. The Baptist 'goes forward in the Lord's way; he bears witness to the Lord not only by showing him - "This is it!" - but also by bringing life to the end as the Lord has brought it'. And by ending his life "with martyrdom" he was "a forerunner of the life and death of Jesus Christ".

The Pope went on to reflect on these parallel paths along which "the great" suffers "many trials and becomes small, small, small to the point of contempt". John, like Jesus, "annihilates himself, he knows the road of annihilation. John, with all that authority, thinking about his life, comparing it with that of Jesus, tells people who he is, what his life will be like: 'It is better for him to grow, I instead must diminish'". This, the Pope stressed, is "the life of John: to diminish before Christ, so that Christ may grow". It is "the life of the servant who makes room, makes way for the Lord to come".

John's life "was not easy": in fact, "when Jesus began his public life", he was "close to the Essenes, that is, to the observants of the law, but also of prayers, of penances". Thus, at a certain point, during the time he was in prison, 'he suffered the ordeal of darkness, of the night in his soul'. And that scene, Francis commented, 'moves one: the great, the greatest sends two disciples to Jesus to ask him: "But John asks you: is it you, or have I made a mistake and must we wait for another?" Along John's path therefore came 'the darkness of error, the darkness of a life burnt in error. And this was a cross for him".

To John's question "Jesus answers with the words of Isaiah": the Baptist "understands, but his heart remains in darkness". Nevertheless he lends himself to the demands of the king, 'who liked to hear him, who liked to lead an adulterous life', and 'almost became a court preacher, of this perplexed king'. But "he humbled himself" because "he thought he was converting this man".

Finally, the Pope said, 'after this purification, after this continual descent into annihilation, making way for the annihilation of Jesus, his life ends'. That king from being perplexed 'becomes capable of a decision, but not because his heart has been converted'; rather 'because the wine gives him courage'.

And so John ends his life 'under the authority of a mediocre, drunken and corrupt king, at the whim of a dancer and the vengeful hatred of an adulteress'. Thus 'ends the great, the greatest man born of woman', commented Francis, who confessed: 'When I read this passage, I am moved'. And he added a useful consideration for the spiritual life of every Christian: "I think of two things: first, I think of our martyrs, the martyrs of our days, those men, women, children who are persecuted, hated, driven from their homes, tortured, massacred". And this, he stressed, 'is not a thing of the past: this happens today. Our martyrs, who end their lives under the corrupt authority of people who hate Jesus Christ'. Therefore, "it is good for us to think about our martyrs. Today we think of Paul Miki, but that was in the 1600s. Let us think of those of today, of 2015".

The Pontiff went on to add that this passage also prompts him to reflect on himself: 'I too will end. All of us will end. No one's life is 'bought'. We too, willingly or unwillingly, go down the road of the existential annihilation of life'. And this, he said, prompts him "to pray that this annihilation resembles Jesus Christ, his annihilation, as much as possible".

This closes the circle of Francis' meditation: 'John, the great, who continually diminishes to nothingness; the martyrs, who diminish today, in our Church of today, to nothingness; and we, who are on this road and going towards the earth, where we will all end'. In this sense the Pope's final prayer: "May the Lord enlighten us, make us understand this road of John, the forerunner of the road of Jesus; and the road of Jesus, who teaches us how ours should be."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 07.02.2015]

Divine in Human: strong, dignified and fraternal gestures, not repertoire

(Mt 13:54-58)

The Divine in the Human makes itself Present in the intense, welcoming relationships that open up inexplicable recoveries; then it leaks out in the strong, dignified and fraternal gestures - not repertoire.

In today's Gospel passage there is a significant difference with some earlier translations (vv.54.58).

The Lord helps us to grow with true «wonders», not with “miracles” [punctual events] but by working within, changing the shrunken heart and improving us with his Love.

The «prophetic» has nothing to do with the sensational.

Only in this way will one not grow weary of the good that is not brilliant; nor will one despise the existence of ordinary people because they lack prestige and titles.

Jesus' powerful works unfold over time - by educating, not impressing and subduing.

His 'signs', those inexplicable recoveries he performs, are the calibre and fruit of a growing Encounter-through-the-Way.

Work of Art (far better than accidental shortcuts) is for the profiteer to become righteous, the doubter to become more confident, the unhappy to resume hope.

It takes time, though astonishment can be immediate.

The Mystery of the power of the new God announced by Christ is hidden in 'Someone inside something'.

It is the web where the Signs of a great Reality nestle, to which despite the difficulties we have access and in which we participate.

The Person of Jesus tells of a Father who does not fear that his holiness is endangered by contact with the world.

The higher Mystery is already in the common man.

So the conflict is not with outsiders, but with the usual stubborn 'neighbours' full of prejudice - habitual and habituated, who already know how it ends... But they inaugurate nothing.

Instead, the Son is no longer a “local child”: a quiet programme of the «village», the product of normal archaic ideas or of already transmitted intentions, which no Encounter will be able to arouse and move.

In his homeland, the Master does not astound as elsewhere: He encounters a diffidence that wears down of days all counted that protrusion of the believing that would fill indigence.

Faith, on the other hand, encompasses what cuts through the impossible Dream of Novelty: our boasting is not from social status, nor from established gender.

It grasps its specific weight not in the folklore, but precisely in regenerating - through the incessant reactivation of intrinsic interest.

In this way, Faith is not rhetoric. It realizes that the state of doubt is more fruitful than conviction.

How does one become a non-people?

Certainties leave no breathing space for the inventiveness of unusual doing, nor for the feeling or growth of strong Life, not disfigured by the repertoire of expected accomplishments.

To internalize and live the message:

How does your ordinary existence redeem the vicissitudes of shaky people?

How do you live the more of the Faith over habits and commonplaces?

[Venerdì 17.a sett. T.O.   2 agosto 2024]

Divine in Human: strong, dignified and fraternal gestures, not repertoire

(Mt 13:54-58)

"Christians are a priestly people for the world. Christians should make the living God visible to the world, bear witness to Him and lead it to Him. When we speak of this common commission of ours, as we are baptised, this is not a reason to boast about it. It is a question that both gives us joy and troubles us: are we truly God's sanctuary in the world and for the world? Do we open up access to God to men, or rather hide it? Have we not - God's people - largely become a people of unbelief and distance from God? Is it not true that the West, the core countries of Christianity, are tired of their faith and, bored with their own history and culture, no longer want to know faith in Jesus Christ? We have reason to cry out to God in this hour: "Do not let us become a non-people! Let us recognise you again! For you anointed us with your love, you placed your Holy Spirit upon us. Let the power of your Spirit become effective in us again, so that we may joyfully bear witness to your message!"

[Pope Benedict, homily 21 April 2011].

The Divine in the Human makes itself Present in the intense, welcoming relationships that open up inexplicable recoveries; then it leaks out in the strong, dignified and fraternal gestures - not in repertoire.

In today's Gospel passage there is a significant difference with the previous CEI translation ('74) (vv.54.58).

The Lord helps us to grow with true 'prodigies', not with 'miracles' [punctual events] but by working in our innermost being, changing our shrunken hearts and improving us with his Love.

The "prophetic" has nothing to do with the sensational.

Only in this way will we not grow weary of the good that is not brilliant; nor will we despise the existence of ordinary people because they lack prestige and titles.

The powerful works of Jesus unfold over time - educating, not impressing and subduing.

His 'signs', those inexplicable recoveries he performs, are the calibre and fruit of a growing Encounter-for-The-Way.

A work of art (far better than accidental shortcuts) is that the profiteer becomes righteous, the doubter more secure, the unhappy person regains hope.

It takes time, though astonishment can be immediate.

The Mystery of the power of the new God announced by Christ is hidden in 'Someone within something'.

It is the plot where the Signs of a great Reality nestle, to which despite the difficulties we have access and are sharers.

The Person of Jesus tells of a Father who does not fear that his holiness is endangered by contact with the world.

The sovereign Mystery is already in the common man.

So the conflict is not with outsiders, but with the usual stubborn 'neighbours' full of prejudice - habitual and habituated, who already know how it ends... But they inaugurate nothing.

Instead, the Son is no longer a local child: a quiet programme of the 'village', the product of normal archaic ideas or already transmitted intentions, which no encounter will be able to arouse and stir up.

At home, the Master does not astound as elsewhere: he encounters a diffidence that wears down with days all counted that protrusion of belief that would fill indigence.

Faith, on the other hand, understands what cuts through the impossible Dream of Novelty: our boast is not from social status, nor from established gender.

It grasps its own specific weight not in the folklore, but precisely in regenerating - by the incessant reactivation of intrinsic interest.

In this way, Faith is not rhetoric: it realises that the state of doubt is more fruitful than conviction.

How does one become a non-people?

Certainties leave no breathing space for the inventiveness of the unusual, nor for the feeling or growth of strong Life, not disfigured by the repertoire of expected fulfilments.

To internalise and live the message:

How does your ordinary existence redeem the affairs of shaky people?

How do you live the more of Faith over habits and commonplaces?

Expectations, misunderstandings - and the spirit of the valley

(Mk 6:1-6)

Domestic side, not domestication

Where Faith is lacking only small changes occur, not the astounding wonders of the alternative presence of the Kingdom of God:

"And he could do no mighty work there, except that having laid hands on a few sick ones, he healed" (v.5).

We do not realise that the Lord could come from humble, dishonourable beginnings, as ours might be - devoid of great dynastic ties, or violent class jumps.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (vi):

"The spirit of the valley does not die [...] it is used, but it does not tire". Master Wang Pi comments:

'The spirit of the valley is the non-valley at the centre of the valley. It has no form or shadow, nothing contrasts and nothing rejects, it remains at the bottom without moving, it keeps quiet without fading. The valley is completed by it, yet its form cannot be seen: this is the most perfect model'.

Like the Wisdom codes of nature, Faith in Christ bids farewell to the idea prevalent in institutional, representative and top-down cultures and religions.

All unwilling, in their great knowledge, to deal with the normality of life that flows.

Jesus avoids rigid or grandiose models. He gives himself with simplicity to his people and aims at the formation of authentic believers.

Their trust must be placed solely in the Kingdom of God - a dimension that truly breaks the balance, because it enters into day-to-day existence and ferments it from invisible roots.

As an envoy of the Father, he would like all the people to be builders and standard bearers of other dreams - but in his home village he feels as if blocked by those who are incapable of deciphering the dimension of the divine in the human.

He has to face the obtuse incomprehension of the centres of power, but also the very failures and hopes - quiet or divisive - of the popular reality that frequents the places of worship.

The villagers expected the usual blessings (by now addicted) or perhaps a charismatic leader to fight against the Romans - and here they would gladly use the flames of religious identity to inflame their spirits.

They would have accepted a warlike captain, reflecting archaic beliefs - instead they find themselves disappointed with the inapparent reality before their eyes.

They do not know how to discover God's plot in the history of the least.

Conversely, there are many divine signs inscribed in what is summarily manifested: warnings that can help us discover the not purely earthly dimension of things, relationships, presences, and so on.

Many misunderstand the spirit of strength that Faith transmits to us.

It breaks balances because it does not offer guarantees that have already been imagined - but it is at bottom domestic and all natural [each Seed has its own particular destiny and development].

How then is the boy they have known from birth so different?

Because there is no equation between what one thinks conformistically, and the Lord. Not even by emphasising intentions.

Both great expectations and proximity can be an obstacle to a daily knowledge of what is extraordinary behind the ordinary dimension of events and people.

Even many brothers or collaborators of Saints have failed to grasp the exceptionality of a common life lived in fidelity and dedication to their Calling by Name. All the more real as it is less conspicuous.

The incomprehension and village jealousy of those who live next door and chase after a god of their own - disfigured - is a source of bitterness; but it does not stop us.

The experience of rejection prompts a change of direction (v.6b).

The soul lives under the sign of Oneness that renounces preconception, the quiet life, simple approval, easy success.

And closed doors can be an added value! They open us to the soul's journey in the Spirit, to the eccentric Announcement, to the amazing Mission.

Unfortunately, we register another kind of spirit in the 'valley' - of a totally negative sign, which in the work of evangelisation and community animation is identified with the pastoral of consent [I will give you what you want].

The astute coordinator manages relations with the faithful, the masses and the institutions with extreme shrewdness, as well as expectations - concrete, immediate - of approval and individual or circle advantage.

At times, some leaders (even church leaders) seem to be nothing more than skilful storytellers: they do not fight the dehumanising structures, nor the powerful on the ground. On the contrary, they try to make allies of them, to win easily.

Even in the time of global crisis, the conviction persists that educational, cultural and 'religious' structures can only go on with the external support of power hierarchies, and the established order. Or with the search for more 'signs' and as many wonders.

Unfortunately, such a downward, outward-looking attitude - out of weariness, which is widespread - does not amount to the enhancement of the most varied and intimate Gifts of God in people, nor to the promotion of the Kingdom.

It is obvious then that those who frequent the palace do not like incendiaries: those who hold titles and a glorious role remain impervious to the work of the Spirit who makes all things new.

[Every opportunist unfortunately remains tied to the chains of command, to the old tactical balances that have guaranteed him career, position, lustre, visibility, easy security on the side].

Perhaps the worst aspect of this downward and normal common denominator game is the cheap identification between order guaranteed by the Gospel and current equilibrium.

An illusion of external harmony between the Beatitudes proclaimed by the Lord and opportunities for a quiet life, or gain, and social recognition.Thus the principles experienced first-hand by the Master are subverted by some followers, in an opaque strategy that ends up distorting the Glad Tidings in favour of every lost one.

And each shaky though unsatisfied person spontaneously tends to adapt to the small certainties they find, offered by the rhetoric of even great narratives.

Even today, on the other hand, the Word of God sparks off the easy appeal of such dynamics and structures of authentic 'sin': it threatens them in no uncertain terms.

Indeed, they seize souls, make them conformist, indifferent to injustice, fearful of freedom - and tend to take even the God of the Exodus hostage.

The Father, however, continues to raise up eccentric prophets: they make us all more capable of perceiving the genius of the age. As well as the personal talents deployed - even amidst the irritated threats of 'countrymen' caught up in levelling marketing.

Advertisers who risk being left without protection or lineage, of course.

But who refuse to affix ready-made seals to the spirit of mediocrity that annoys no one.

To internalise and live the Word, let us ask ourselves:

What has changed in your journey since you began to live more intensely in adherence to Christ? How has your environment reacted?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I would like to reflect briefly on this Sunday’s Gospel passage. It is taken from the text that has the famous saying “Nemo propheta in patria”. In other words no prophet is properly accepted among his own people who watched him grow up (cf. Mk 6:4). Indeed after Jesus, when he was about 30 years old, had left Nazareth and had already been travelling about preaching and working miracles of healing elsewhere, he once returned to his birthplace and started teaching in the synagogue. His fellow citizens “were astonished” by his wisdom, and knowing him as “the son of Mary”, as the carpenter who had lived in their midst, instead of welcoming him with faith were shocked and took offence (cf. Mk 6:2-3). This reaction is understandable because familiarity at the human level makes it difficult to go beyond this in order to be open to the divine dimension. That this son of a carpenter was the Son of God was hard for them to believe. Jesus actually takes as an example the experience of the prophets of Israel, who in their own homeland were an object of contempt, and identifies himself with them. Due to this spiritual closure Jesus “could do no mighty work there [Nazareth], except that he laid his hands upon a few sick people and healed them” (Mk 6:5). In fact Christ’s miracles are not a display of power but signs of the love of God that is brought into being wherever it encounters reciprocated human faith. Origen writes: “as in the case of material things there exists in some things a natural attraction towards some other thing, as in the magnet for iron... so there is an attraction in such faith towards the divine power” (Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, 10, 19).

It would therefore seem that Jesus—as is said—is making sense of the negative welcome he received in Nazareth. Instead, at the end of the account, we find a remark that says precisely the opposite. The Evangelist writes that Jesus “marvelled because of their unbelief” (Mk 6:6). The astonishment of Jesus’ fellow townspeople is matched by his own surprise. In a certain sense he too is shocked! Although he knows that no prophet is well accepted in his homeland, the closed heart of his people was nevertheless obscure and impenetrable to him: how could they fail to recognize the light of the Truth? Why did they not open themselves to the goodness of God who deigned to share in our humanity? Effectively Jesus of Nazareth the man is the transparency of God, in him God dwells fully. And while we are constantly seeking other signs, other miracles, we do not realize that he is the true Sign, God made flesh, he is the greatest miracle in the world: the whole of God’s love contained in a human heart, in a man’s face.

The One who fully understood this reality was the Virgin Mary, who is blessed because she believed (cf. Lk 1:45). Mary was not shocked by her Son: her wonder for him was full of faith, full of love and joy, in seeing him so human and at the same time so divine. Let us therefore learn from her, our Mother in faith, to recognize in the humanity of Christ the perfect revelation of God.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 8 July 2012]

The same link between the 'miracle-sign' and faith is confirmed by other negative facts. Let us recall some of them. In Mark's Gospel we read that Jesus in Nazareth "could perform no miracle, but only laid hands on a few sick people and healed them. And he marvelled at their unbelief" (Mk 6:5-6).

We know the gentle rebuke Jesus once addressed to Peter: "Man of little faith, why did you doubt?". This happened when Peter, who at first went boldly on the waves towards Jesus, then by the violence of the wind became afraid and began to sink" (cf. Mt 14:29-31).

5. Jesus emphasises more than once that the miracle he performed is linked to faith. "Your faith has healed you", he says to the woman who had been suffering from haemorrhaging for twelve years and who, when she came up behind him, touched the hem of his cloak and was healed (cf. Mt 9:20-22; Lk 8:48; Mk 5:34).

Similar words Jesus pronounced while healing blind Bartimaeus, who at the exit from Jericho insistently asked for his help, crying out: "Son of David, Jesus, have mercy on me!" (cf. Mk 10, 46-52). According to Mark: "Go, your faith has saved you", Jesus answers him. And Luke specifies the answer: "Have sight again! Your faith has saved you" (Lk 18:42).

He makes an identical statement to the Samaritan healed of leprosy (Lk 17:19). While to two other blind men pleading to regain their sight, Jesus asks: "Do you believe that I can do this?" "Yes, O Lord!" . "Let it be done to you according to your faith" (Mt 9:28-29).

6. Particularly touching is the episode of the Canaanite woman, who did not cease to ask Jesus' help for her daughter "cruelly tormented by a demon". When the Canaanite woman prostrated herself before Jesus to ask him for help, he replied: 'It is not good to take the bread of the children to throw it to the little dogs' (this was a reminder of the ethnic diversity between Israelites and Canaanites, which Jesus, son of David, could not ignore in his practical behaviour, but to which he alluded in a methodological function to provoke faith). And here the woman intuitively comes to an unusual act of faith and humility. She says: 'It is true, Lord . . . but even little dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table'. Faced with such a humble, gracious and confident word, Jesus replies: 'Woman, truly great is your faith! May it be done to you as you wish" (cf. Mt 15:21-28).

It is an event difficult to forget, especially when one thinks of the countless "Canaanites" of every time, country, colour and social condition, who reach out their hand to ask for understanding and help in their needs!

7. Note how in the Gospel narrative it is continually emphasised that Jesus, when he "sees faith", performs the miracle. This is clearly stated in the case of the paralytic lowered to his feet through the opening in the roof (cf. Mk 2:5; Mt 9:2; Lk 5:20). But the observation can be made in many other cases recorded by the evangelists. The factor of faith is indispensable; but as soon as it occurs, the heart of Jesus is outstretched to fulfil the requests of the needy who turn to him for help with his divine power.

8. Once again we see that, as we said at the beginning, the miracle is a "sign" of God's power and love that saves man in Christ. But because of this, it is at the same time a call to man to faith. It must lead both the one who is miraculously saved and the witnesses of the miracle to believe.

This applies to the apostles themselves, right from the first "sign" given by Jesus in Cana of Galilee: it was then that they "believed in him" (John 2: 11). Then, when the miraculous multiplication of the loaves took place near Capernaum, with which the heralding of the Eucharist is connected, the evangelist notes that "from then on, many of his disciples turned back and no longer went with him", not being able to accept a language that seemed too "harsh" to them. Jesus then asked the Twelve: "Perhaps you also want to leave?". Peter answered, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words to eternal life, we have believed and known that you are the Holy One of God" (cf. Jn 6:66-69). The principle of faith is thus fundamental in the relationship with Christ, both as a condition for obtaining the miracle and as the purpose for which it is performed. This is made very clear at the end of John's Gospel, where we read: "Many other signs did Jesus do in the presence of his disciples, but they were not written in this book. These have been written, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and so that, believing, you may have life in his name" (John 20: 30-31).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 16 December 1987].

Today’s Gospel account once again, like last Sunday, brings us to the synagogue of Nazareth, the village in Galilee where Jesus was brought up in a family and was known by everyone. He, who left not long before to begin his public life, now returns and for the first time presents himself to the community, gathered in the synagogue on the Sabbath. He reads the passage of the Prophet Isaiah, who speaks of the future Messiah, and he declares at the end: “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Lk 4:21). Jesus’ compatriots, who were at first astonished and admired him, now begin to look sideways, to murmur among themselves and ask: why does he, who claims to be the Lord’s Consecrated, not repeat here in his homeland the wonders they say he worked in Capernaum and in nearby villages? Thus Jesus affirms: “no prophet is acceptable in his own country”, and he refers to the great prophets of the past, Elijah and Elisha, who had worked miracles in favour of the pagans in order to denounce the incredulity of their people. At this point those present are offended, rise up, indignant, and cast Jesus out and want to throw him down from the precipice. But he, with the strength of his peace, “passed through the midst of them and went away” (cf. v. 30). His time has not yet come.

This passage of Luke the Evangelist is not simply the account of an argument between compatriots, as sometimes happens even in our neighbourhoods, arising from envy and jealousy, but it highlights a temptation to which a religious man is always exposed — all of us are exposed — and from which it is important to keep his distance. What is this temptation? It is the temptation to consider religion as a human investment and, consequently, “negotiate” with God, seeking one’s own interest. Instead, true religion entails accepting the revelation of a God who is Father and who cares for each of his creatures, even the smallest and most insignificant in the eyes of man. Jesus’ prophetic ministry consists precisely in this: in declaring that no human condition can constitute a reason for exclusion — no human condition can constitute a reason for exclusion! — from the Father’s heart, and that the only privilege in the eyes of God is that of not having privileges, of not having godparents, of being abandoned in his hands.

“Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Lk 4:21). The ‘today’, proclaimed by Christ that day, applies to every age; it echoes for us too in this Square, reminding us of the relevance and necessity of the salvation Jesus brought to humanity. God comes to meet the men and women of all times and places, in their real life situations. He also comes to meet us. It is always he who takes the first step: he comes to visit us with his mercy, to lift us up from the dust of our sins; he comes to extend a hand to us in order to enable us to return from the abyss into which our pride made us fall, and he invites us to receive the comforting truth of the Gospel and to walk on the paths of good. He always comes to find us, to look for us.

Let us return to the synagogue. Surely that day, in the synagogue of Nazareth, Mary, his Mother, was also there. We can imagine her heart beating, a small foreboding of what she will suffer under the Cross, seeing Jesus, there in the synagogue, first admired, then challenged, then insulted, threatened with death. In her heart, filled with faith, she kept every thing. May she help us to convert from a god of miracles to the miracle of God, who is Jesus Christ.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 31 January 2016]