Betrayals

(Mt 26:14-25)

Mt Mk Lk situate the institution of the Eucharist within the Jewish Passover supper. A theological reworking to affirm (in Faith) the meaning of the authentic Passover of Deliverance in Christ.

Compared to the Synoptics, the Fourth Gospel is more in keeping with the meaning of the Broken Bread: the source of Life for all.

Jn 'anticipates' the Lord's death at the moment when the priests slaughtered the lambs destined for the Passover supper on the Temple esplanade.

Thus the sacrifice of the Cross - contemporary with the latter event - is rightly placed by Jn in the hours preceding the 'Passover' supper of the Synoptics.

In fact, the Lord's Supper did not originate from the popular celebration of the First Testament Exodus in April of the year 30 (Jesus was 37 years old).

No Eucharist has ever involved the typical ingredients of the Jewish Passover table, such as spices or sauces, sweet and bitter herbs, different chalices of wine and so on.

The original sense of the Master's ritual gesture with his own - which is the background to today's Gospel passage - is the joyful one of the Zebah-Todah [Lev 7:11ff: the only votive cult that could be celebrated outside the Temple in Jerusalem, at home, with friends and family].

Hence the double (common) term by which we still designate the efficacious sign that Christ left us: Communion [Zebah] and Eucharist [Thanksgiving: Todah].

Todah was a sacrifice of great praise, one of several specific kinds of the Communion sacrifice. We find several traces of it in the Eucharistic Prayer first.

The ceremonial action of Thanksgiving was intended in a very strong sense, as it celebrated Life found again, after a serious illness or an escape from death.

A good part of the Psalms - perhaps more than a third - in several places express the same final joy: the threat of life averted, and the experience of finding oneself saved together with one's loved ones, by divine Gift.

The meaning of this hymn in daily life was in fact initially also for the Catholic Church - for almost the entire first millennium (like the Orthodox Church) - celebrated with leavened bread [Lev 7:13], indicating its domestic and real value.

It traces the proper tones of such ancient worship of thanksgiving in the hearth - unfortunately, difficult to translate in the sense of the proper formulas [perceptible only to a specially trained ear, and in the original Hebrew text].

The joyful and familiar atmosphere with which the rite of Communion and Thanksgiving was celebrated seems here to be undermined by the drama of infidelity.

It is a strong call to vigilance for all of us.

Jesus handed himself over not because the Father's plan called for blood... nor that at least one would pay dearly for all.

The traits of the non-paying God have nothing to do with the point of compensation.

The Father does not need to be repaid anything.

He is not an energetic vampire, he does not demand that we live for him; quite the contrary.

And we see it in the Son, whom even Judas can dispose of. But so that he might reflect on his own condition - and so did Peter.

The Face of Christ is that of the betrayed man.

But He lets it be, because friends belong to each other - and He knows: the inviolability of a loved one may not endure, even out of greed. Even at the expense of the One who first welcomed us.

If the sense of mutual belonging falls away, then the face of the authentic Man becomes that of the sold man....

All this happens with a sense of peaceful loss - not by any preordained design, but for the disciples to reflect on their own situation, to recognise - and integrate.

It is the way by which we are educated to an awareness of our radical deficiency; to an awareness of our distance from the ideal - of the need for a path of love and genuineness, far greater than any indemnity.

A condition that of the apostles (as scrutinised in the Gospel passage) still vacuous and inattentive, or even belligerent and pre-human - prone even to trade in God, and in undefiled persons.

It is as if in order to activate us through doubt about Judas and the whole group around him, the Lord is still silently saying - precisely to us, but without moralising: "Where are you?".

Because of the persecution, some of the faithful in the community of Mt had allowed themselves to be intimidated and had abandoned their brothers in faith. What attitude to adopt towards them?

The scandalous affair of the failure of the first disciples opens unceasing glimmers for the assemblies of all times: the logic of the Kingdom is untouched by nothing.

Wide-open doors also for those who deny and flee the Master.

The religious path without the leap of Faith inculcates in sensitive people a progressive and pronounced sense of unworthiness: it imposes a nerve-wracking expectation of pressing perfection.

Wonderful skill and attitude counts: what man does for God.

But divine love is not conditional. Therefore, in the genuine and most reliable path, the surprise is first of all worth it: what the Lord creates for us.

He is the Coming One, and the Subject who works, disposes, guides - the One who retraces the plot. And with unexpected reversals or leaps it snatches away the obsession of insufficiency.

Without such free and 'guided' rather than wise Friendship, one gives in and may happen to sell Christ in exchange for fatuous fires, momentary flashes, other people's convictions, futile junk; cheap returns, shoddy happiness.

Jesus continues to dip the morsel in his Blood and hand it to us. Gradually we will learn to stand up for his values, so that he lives on through us as Bread broken and distributed.

Little by little, we even manage not to dumb down and run away from the gift of life... transmuting ourselves into Food.

The only character that instead ruins and self-destructs itself (Mt 27:5) is the one compromised to the end with external seductions, and false spiritual guides.

To internalise and live the message:

When questioned about what characterises you, do you engage in squaring other people's convictions and external or traced goals? Or do you stand for the freedom to be and become yourself in Christ?

The text by Don Mazzolari reproposed by Pope Francis

Our brother

Poor Judas. Our poor brother. The greatest of sins is not that of selling Christ; it is that of despairing. Even Peter had denied the Master; and then he looked at him and began to cry and the Lord put him back in his place: his vicar. All the apostles left the Lord and returned, and Christ forgave them and took them back with the same confidence. Do you think there would not have been room for Judas too if he had wanted to, if he had brought himself to the foot of Calvary, if he had watched him at least at a corner or turn of the road of the Cross: salvation would have come for him too. Poor Judas. A cross and a tree of a hanged man. Nails and a rope. Try to compare these two ends. You will tell me: 'One dies and the other dies'. But I would like to ask you which is the death you choose, on the cross like Christ, in the hope of Christ, or hanged, desperate, with nothing ahead. Forgive me if this evening, which should have been one of intimacy, I have brought you such painful considerations, but I also love Judas, he is my brother Judas. I will pray for him this evening too, because I do not judge, I do not condemn; I should judge me, I should condemn me. I cannot help thinking that even for Judas, God's mercy, this embrace of charity, that word friend, which the Lord said to him as he kissed him to betray him, I cannot help thinking that this word did not make its way into his poor heart. And perhaps at the last moment, remembering that word and the acceptance of the kiss, Judas too must have felt that the Lord still loved him and received him among his own. Perhaps the first apostle who entered together with the two thieves.

(Holy Thursday, 3 April 1958)

The capital of Vézelay

"It consoles me to contemplate that capital of Vézelay". This is the spiritual confidence offered by Pope Francis in his morning meditation at Santa Marta. The reference is to a medieval capital of the basilica of Vézelay, in Burgundy, dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene, on the ancient road to Santiago de Compostela. On the very first capital, about twenty metres from the floor, on the right as you look at the altar, there is a sculpture that is striking and disconcerting. On one side you see Judas hanged, his tongue hanging out, surrounded by devils. The surprise comes from the other side of the capital: there is the Good Shepherd carrying on his shoulders the very body of Judas.

(Pope Francis, in L'Osservatore Romano 8 April 2020: https://www.osservatoreromano.va/it/news/2020-04/per-la-conversione-dei-tanti-giuda-di-oggi.html)

The question raises several theories. Some refer to the fact of his greed for money; others hold to an explanation of a messianic order: Judas would have been disappointed at seeing that Jesus did not fit into his programme for the political-militaristic liberation of his own nation.

In fact, the Gospel texts insist on another aspect: John expressly says that "the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him" (Jn 13: 2). Analogously, Luke writes: "Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve" (Lk 22: 3).

In this way, one moves beyond historical motivations and explanations based on the personal responsibility of Judas, who shamefully ceded to a temptation of the Evil One.

The betrayal of Judas remains, in any case, a mystery. Jesus treated him as a friend (cf. Mt 26: 50); however, in his invitations to follow him along the way of the beatitudes, he does not force his will or protect it from the temptations of Satan, respecting human freedom.

In effect, the possibilities to pervert the human heart are truly many. The only way to prevent it consists in not cultivating an individualistic, autonomous vision of things, but on the contrary, by putting oneself always on the side of Jesus, assuming his point of view. We must daily seek to build full communion with him.

Let us remember that Peter also wanted to oppose him and what awaited him at Jerusalem, but he received a very strong reproval: "You are not on the side of God, but of men" (Mk 8: 33)!

After his fall Peter repented and found pardon and grace. Judas also repented, but his repentance degenerated into desperation and thus became self-destructive.

For us it is an invitation to always remember what St Benedict says at the end of the fundamental Chapter Five of his "Rule": "Never despair of God's mercy". In fact, God "is greater than our hearts", as St John says (I Jn 3: 20).

Let us remember two things. The first: Jesus respects our freedom. The second: Jesus awaits our openness to repentance and conversion; he is rich in mercy and forgiveness.

Besides, when we think of the negative role Judas played we must consider it according to the lofty ways in which God leads events. His betrayal led to the death of Jesus, who transformed this tremendous torment into a space of salvific love by consigning himself to the Father (cf. Gal 2: 20; Eph 5: 2, 25).

The word "to betray" is the version of a Greek word that means "to consign". Sometimes the subject is even God in person: it was he who for love "consigned" Jesus for all of us (Rm 8: 32). In his mysterious salvific plan, God assumes Judas' inexcusable gesture as the occasion for the total gift of the Son for the redemption of the world.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 18 October 2006]

1. With last Sunday, Palm Sunday, we entered the week which is called "holy" because in it we commemorate the principal events of our redemption. The heart of this week is the Triduum of the Passion and Resurrection of the Lord, who, as we read in the Roman Missal, "redeemed mankind and gave perfect glory to God principally through his paschal mystery: by dying he destroyed our death and by rising he restored our life. The Easter Triduum of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ is thus the culmination of the entire liturgical year" (General Norms for the Liturgical Year and the Calendar, n. 18). In the history of humanity there is no event more significant or of greater value. At the end of Lent, we are thus preparing to live fervently the days most important for our faith, and we intensify our commitment to follow Christ, Redeemer of man, with ever greater fidelity.

2. Holy Week leads us to meditate on the meaning of the Cross, in which "the revelation [of God's] merciful love attains its culmination" (cf. Dives in misericordia, n. 8). The theme of this third year of immediate preparation for the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, dedicated to the Father, encourages us most particularly to reflect on this. His infinite mercy has saved us. In order to redeem humanity, he freely gave his Onlybegotten Son. How can we not thank him? History is illumined and guided by the incomparable event of the Redemption: God, rich in mercy, poured out his infinite goodness on every human being through Christ's sacrifice. How can we find an adequate way to express our gratitude? If, on the one hand, the liturgy of these days makes us offer a hymn of thanksgiving to the Lord, conqueror of death, at the same time it asks us to eliminate from our lives all that prevents us from conforming ourselves to him. We contemplate Christ in faith and re-examine the crucial points of the salvation he wrought. We recognize that we are sinners and confess our ingratitude, our infidelity and our indifference to his love. We need his forgiveness to purify us and sustain us in the commitment to interior conversion and a persevering renewal of our spirit.

3. "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!" (Ps 51 [50]:1, 2). These words, which we proclaimed on Ash Wednesday, have accompanied us throughout our Lenten journey. They resound in our spirit with unique intensity in the imminence of the holy days, during which the extraordinary gift of the forgiveness of our sins, obtained for us by Jesus on the Cross, is renewed for us. Before the crucified Chist, an eloquent reminder of God's mercy, how can we not repent of our own sins and be converted to love? How can we not concretely repair the damage we have caused others and return goods acquired dishonestly? Forgiveness requires concrete actions: repentance is true and effective only when it is expressed in tangible acts of conversion and the proper reparation.

4. "Lord, in your great love, answer me!". Thus we are prompted to pray by today's liturgy for Wednesday of Holy Week, totally intent on the saving events we will be commemorating in the next few days. Today, as we proclaim Matthew's Gospel about the Passover and Judas' betrayal, we are already thinking of the solemn Mass "in Cena Domini" tomorrow afternoon, which will recall the institution of the priesthood and the Eucharist, as well as the "new" commandment of fraternal love which the Lord left us on the eve of his death.

This evocative celebration will be preceded tomorrow morning by the Chrism Mass at which the Bishop presides, surrounded by his priests. The sacred oils for Baptism, the Anointing of the Sick and Chrism are blessed. In the evening, then, when the Mass "in Cena Domini" is over, there will be a time of adoration, in response as it were to Jesus' invitation to his disciples on the tragic night of his agony: "remain here, and watch with me" (Mt 26:38).

Good Friday is a day of great emotion, on which the Church will have us listen once again to the account of Christ's Passion. The "veneration" of the Cross will be the centre of the liturgy celebrated on that day, while the ecclesial community prays intensely for the needs of believers and of the whole world.

A moment of deep silence follows. Everything will remain quiet until the night of Holy Saturday. Joy and light will burst into the darkness with the evocative rites of the Easter Vigil and the festive singing of the Alleluia. It will be an encounter in faith with the risen Christ and our Easter joy will be prolonged throughout the 50 days that follow.

5. Dear brothers and sisters, let us prepare ourselves to relive these events with deep fervour together with Mary most holy, present at every moment of her Son's Passion and a witness to his Resurrection. A Polish hymn says: "Blessed Mother, we raise our cry to your heart pierced by the sword of sorrow!". Mary, accept our prayers and the sacrifices of those who are suffering; strengthen our Lenten resolutions and accompany us as we follow Jesus at the time of his ultimate trial. Christ, tortured and crucified, is the source of strength and sign of hope for all believers and for all humanity.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 31 March 1999]

«Preghiamo oggi per la gente che, in questo tempo di pandemia, fa commercio con i bisognosi; approfittano della necessità degli altri e li vendono: i mafiosi, gli usurai e tanti. Che il Signore tocchi il loro cuore e li converta». Non è ricorso a giri di parole Papa Francesco, mercoledì mattina, 8 aprile, all’inizio della messa celebrata nella cappella di Casa Santa Marta e trasmessa in diretta streaming. Invitando poi, nell’omelia, a guardare ai tanti «Giuda istituzionalizzati» di oggi che, in diversi modi, sfruttano e vendono le persone, familiari compresi. Ma anche al «piccolo Giuda» che è in ciascuno, pronto a tradire per interesse.

«Mercoledì Santo è chiamato anche “mercoledì del tradimento”, il giorno nel quale si sottolinea nella Chiesa il tradimento di Giuda», ha spiegato il Papa dando il via alla sua meditazione. Il passo del Vangelo di Matteo (26, 14-25), proposto dalla liturgia, ricorda proprio che «Giuda vende il Maestro».

In realtà, «quando noi pensiamo al fatto di vendere gente — ha fatto presente il Pontefice — viene alla mente il commercio fatto con gli schiavi dall’Africa per portarli in America: una cosa vecchia». E ci sembra una «cosa lontana» anche «il commercio, per esempio, delle ragazze yazide vendute a Daesh».

Però «anche oggi si vende gente, tutti i giorni» ha affermato Francesco. Anche oggi, dunque, «ci sono dei Giuda che vendono i fratelli e le sorelle: sfruttandoli nel lavoro, non pagando il giusto, non riconoscendo i doveri».

«Anzi, vendono tante volte le cose più care» ha rilanciato il Papa, confidando di pensare «che, per essere più comodo, un uomo è capace di allontanare i genitori e non vederli più; metterli al sicuro in una casa di riposo e non andare a trovarli». Si «vende» senza scrupoli.

A questo proposito il Pontefice ha ricordato che «c’è un detto molto comune che, parlando di gente così, dice che “questo è capace di vendere la propria madre”: e la vendono». Come a dire: «Adesso sono tranquilli, sono allontanati: “Curateli voi”».

«Oggi il commercio umano — ha insistito Francesco — è come ai primi tempi: si fa. E questo perché? Perché: Gesù lo ha detto. Lui ha dato al denaro una signorìa. Gesù ha detto: “Non si può servire Dio e il denaro”, due signori» (cfr. Luca 16, 13). Ed «è l’unica cosa — ha fatto notare — che Gesù pone all’altezza e ognuno di noi deve scegliere: o servi Dio, e sarai libero nell’adorazione e nel servizio; o servi il denaro, e sarai schiavo del denaro».

«Questa è l’opzione», ma «tanta gente vuole servire Dio e il denaro e questo non si può fare» ha puntualizzato il Papa. Tanto che, «alla fine, fanno finta di servire Dio per servire il denaro». Si tratta degli «sfruttatori nascosti che sono socialmente impeccabili, ma sotto il tavolo fanno il commercio, anche con la gente: non importa. Lo sfruttamento umano è vendere il prossimo».

«Giuda se n’è andato — ha proseguito il Pontefice — ma ha lasciato dei discepoli, che non sono suoi discepoli ma del diavolo». Del resto, «com’è stata la vita di Giuda noi non lo sappiamo. Un ragazzo normale, forse, e anche con inquietudini, perché il Signore lo ha chiamato a essere discepolo». Però «lui mai è riuscito a esserlo: non aveva bocca di discepolo e cuore di discepolo come abbiamo letto nella prima lettura» ha rimarcato Francesco, facendo riferimento al passo tratto da libro del profeta Isaia (50, 4-9).

Insomma, Giuda «era debole nel discepolato, ma Gesù lo amava». In realtà, ha aggiunto il Papa, «il Vangelo ci fa capire che» a Giuda «piacevano i soldi: a casa di Lazzaro, quando Maria unge i piedi di Gesù con quel profumo così costoso, lui fa la riflessione e Giovanni sottolinea: “Ma non lo dice perché amava i poveri: perché era ladro”» (cfr. Giovanni 12, 6).

E così «l’amore al denaro lo aveva portato fuori dalle regole: a rubare, e da rubare a tradire c’è un passo piccolino» ha affermato il Pontefice. «Chi ama troppo i soldi — ha aggiunto — tradisce per averne di più, sempre: è una regola, è un dato di fatto». Ed ecco che «il Giuda ragazzo, forse buono, con buone intenzioni, finisce traditore al punto di andare al mercato a vendere: “Andò dai capi dei sacerdoti e disse: ‘Quanto volete darmi perché io ve lo consegni’”, direttamente?» (cfr. Matteo 26, 14).

«A mio avviso, quest’uomo era fuori di sé» ha spiegato Francesco. «Una cosa che attira la mia attenzione — ha confidato — è che Gesù mai gli dice “traditore”; dice che sarà tradito, ma non dice a lui “traditore”. Mai gli dice “vai via, traditore”. Mai! Anzi, gli dice “amico” e lo bacia».

Siamo davanti al «mistero di Giuda: com’è il mistero di Giuda? Don Primo Mazzolari l’ha spiegato meglio di me» ha affermato il Papa ricordando l’omelia — di cui riportiamo uno stralcio in questa pagina — che il parroco di Bozzolo pronunciò il Giovedì santo del 1958. «Sì, mi consola — ha proseguito — contemplare quel capitello di Vèzelay: come finì Giuda? Non so. Gesù minaccia forte, qui; minaccia forte: “Guai a quell’uomo dal quale il Figlio dell’uomo viene tradito! Meglio per quell’uomo se non fosse mai nato!”» scrive Giovanni nel suo Vangelo. «Ma questo vuol dire che Giuda è all’Inferno? Non so. Io guardo il capitello. E sento la parola di Gesù: “Amico”» ha detto Francesco.

Tutto «questo — ha affermato — ci fa pensare a un’altra cosa, che è più reale, più di oggi: il diavolo entrò in Giuda, è stato il diavolo a condurlo a questo punto. E come finì la storia? Il diavolo è un mal pagatore: non è un pagatore affidabile. Ti promette tutto, ti fa vedere tutto e alla fine ti lascia solo nella tua disperazione ad impiccarti».

«Il cuore di Giuda», ha fatto presente Francesco, è «inquieto, tormentato dalla cupidigia e tormentato dall’amore a Gesù». È «un amore che non è riuscito a farsi amore». Così Giuda, «tormentato con questa nebbia, torna dai sacerdoti chiedendo perdono, chiedendo salvezza». Ma si sente rispondere: «Cosa c’entriamo noi? È cosa tua». Infatti «il diavolo parla così e ci lascia nella disperazione».

Concludendo la meditazione il Pontefice ha invitato a pensare «a tanti Giuda istituzionalizzati in questo mondo, che sfruttano la gente». Ma ha chiesto di pensare «anche al “piccolo Giuda” che ognuno di noi ha dentro di sé nell’ora di scegliere: fra lealtà o interesse». Con la consapevolezza che ciascuno «ha la capacità di tradire, di vendere, di scegliere per il proprio interesse. Ognuno di noi ha la possibilità di lasciarsi attirare dall’amore dei soldi o dei beni o del benessere futuro». Insomma: «Giuda, dove sei?» è una domanda che Francesco suggerisce di porre a se stessi: «Tu, Giuda, il “piccolo Giuda” che ho dentro: dove sei?».

È poi con la preghiera del cardinale Rafael Merry del Val che il Papa ha invitato «le persone che non possono comunicarsi» a fare la comunione spirituale. E ha concluso la celebrazione con l’adorazione e la benedizione eucaristica. Per sostare infine in preghiera davanti all’immagine mariana nella cappella di Casa Santa Marta, accompagnato dal canto dell’antifona Ave Regina Caelorum.

Il testo di don Mazzolari riproposto dal Papa nell’omelia

Nostro fratello

Povero Giuda. Povero fratello nostro. Il più grande dei peccati, non è quello di vendere il Cristo; è quello di disperare. Anche Pietro aveva negato il Maestro; e poi lo ha guardato e si è messo a piangere e il Signore lo ha ricollocato al suo posto: il suo vicario. Tutti gli apostoli hanno abbandonato il Signore e son tornati, e il Cristo ha perdonato loro e li ha ripresi con la stessa fiducia. Credete voi che non ci sarebbe stato posto anche per Giuda se avesse voluto, se si fosse portato ai piedi del calvario, se lo avesse guardato almeno a un angolo o a una svolta della strada della Via Crucis: la salvezza sarebbe arrivata anche per lui. Povero Giuda. Una croce e un albero di un impiccato. Dei chiodi e una corda. Provate a confrontare queste due fini. Voi mi direte: “Muore l’uno e muore l’altro”. Io però vorrei domandarvi qual è la morte che voi eleggete, sulla croce come il Cristo, nella speranza del Cristo, o impiccati, disperati, senza niente davanti. Perdonatemi se questa sera che avrebbe dovuto essere di intimità, io vi ho portato delle considerazioni così dolorose, ma io voglio bene anche a Giuda, è mio fratello Giuda. Pregherò per lui anche questa sera, perché io non giudico, io non condanno; dovrei giudicare me, dovrei condannare me. Io non posso non pensare che anche per Giuda la misericordia di Dio, questo abbraccio di carità, quella parola amico, che gli ha detto il Signore mentre lui lo baciava per tradirlo, io non posso pensare che questa parola non abbia fatto strada nel suo povero cuore. E forse l’ultimo momento, ricordando quella parola e l’accettazione del bacio, anche Giuda avrà sentito che il Signore gli voleva ancora bene e lo riceveva tra i suoi di là. Forse il primo apostolo che è entrato insieme ai due ladroni.

(Giovedì Santo, 3 aprile 1958)

Il capitello di Vézelay

«Mi consola contemplare quel capitello di Vézelay». È la confidenza spirituale offerta da Papa Francesco nella sua meditazione mattutina a Santa Marta. Il riferimento è a un capitello medievale della basilica di Vézelay, in Borgogna, dedicata a Santa Maria Maddalena, sull’antica via per Santiago de Compostela. Proprio sul primo capitello, a circa venti metri dal pavimento, a destra guardando l’altare, c’è una scultura che colpisce e sconcerta. Da un lato si vede Giuda impiccato, con la lingua di fuori, circondato dai diavoli. La sorpresa arriva dall’altro lato del capitello: c’è il Buon Pastore che porta sulle spalle proprio il corpo di Giuda.

[Papa Francesco, in L’Osservatore Romano 8 aprile 2020: https://www.osservatoreromano.va/it/news/2020-04/per-la-conversione-dei-tanti-giuda-di-oggi.html]

(Jn 13:21-33.36-38)

«I will lay down my life for you» - just to command.

The Lord wants each of us “at the table” to ask himself the question of whether by chance we are involved in some betrayal.

Not to blame and plant ourselves there, but to meet us: each one is an admirer ‘and’ opponent of the Master.

We are brilliance ‘and’ darkness - coexistent hips, more or less integrated; also competitive ones.

Aspects that can turn as baby foods, for each new ‘genesis’ - which once emerged can become strengths.

The road is blocked only in front of the person who continues to be conditioned. Nothing is revealed there; the prodigy of the transmutation of our abyss will not take place.

The liturgy of the Word puts in contact with a Jesus pervaded by a sense of weakness; his loneliness becomes acute.

On mission, we too are sometimes at the mercy of despondency: perhaps God has deceived us, dragging us into an absurd enterprise?

No, we are not engaged and abandoned to an ignoble logic, to a perverse generation: the force of Life itself is littered with ‘tombstones’ and has various faces. Beneficial influxes.

The favourable path is devoid of prestige, of recognised tasks and majesty: they tend to placate us, and not to dig.

Often it’s precisely the ailments that improve judgment.

The trickle of problems can elicit the Voice of the most authentic part of ourselves; become an incisive ‘echo’ to find and complete ourselves - bringing forward the pioneering heart, instead of holding it back.

The road of trial and imbalance rouses us from the harmful ageing of the spirit. It recovers contrary energies, the opposite sides, the incompatible desires, the passions [allied] to which we have not given space.

Even in the torturous experience of the limit, God wants to reach out our variegated ‘seed’, so that it does not allow itself to be plundered - not even by the dismay of having taken the «morsel» together and being the traitors.

Nothing is invalidating.

There is only one toxic, chronic, death ambit that annihilates everything and has no active germs inherent in it: that which obscures and detests primary change.

There the horizon narrows and only an abyss remains - or the bland that infects to make us give up and retreat.

Finally, only fears remain, the half-choices, the neuroses silenced by compromise that tries to fill the precious sense of emptiness.

The story of incomprehensible solitude of Christ alongside the traitor and the renegade is written in our hearts. It’s all reality - but for salvation, for a renewed intimacy and conviction.

The missionary vocation is extinguished and stagnates only due to the weight of calculation and common mentality - where naked poverty of the being discordant that we are doesn’t engrave (nor clink).

Without abandonment suffered, man doesn’t become universal, on the contrary he tends to attenuate the best instruments of God’s power.

On that steppe ground the Lord is giving us the friendship of a gaze’ shift.

Without the restlessness of profound and humiliating disturbance, without the surrendering of one's humanity - in extreme weakness - our dissatisfied puppet lingers, contenting itself.

Despite the admiration for values, it too becomes a residual larva. A caricature of the being we might have become: women and men with a contemplative eye.

Complete ones from within, like Jesus.

[Holy Tuesday, April 15, 2025]

(Jn 13:21-33.36-38)

"I will lay down my life for you" - to lead.

The apostles would give everything to win, not to lose; to triumph, not to be mocked or fed, and to heal the world.

Better to negotiate. Other than washing each other's feet!

Therefore, the Lord wants each of us diners to ask the question whether we are not involved in some betrayal.

Not to guilt and plant ourselves there, but to meet each other: each is an admirer and adversary of the Master.

We are splendour and darkness - coexisting sides, more or less integrated, even competitive.

It is the Resurrection that lurks in the effervescence of life, redeeming then the selfish motives, and transfiguring into collimating energies elsewhere the dark and frictional sides.

Aspects that become like baby food, for each new genesis - which once they have emerged [planted in the earth and pulled up by the roots] can become strengths.

The road is only blocked before the person who continues to have his soul conditioned by old or à la page opinions and evils.

Nothing is revealed there; the prodigy of the transmutation of our abyss will not take place.

The liturgy of the Word brings us into contact with a Jesus pervaded by a sense of weakness; his loneliness becomes acute.

In mission, we too are sometimes at the mercy of despondency: perhaps God has deceived us, dragging us into an absurd enterprise?

No, we are not hired and abandoned to an ignoble logic, to a perverse generation: the force of life itself is strewn with tombstones and has various faces. Beneficial influences.

The favourable path is devoid of prestige, recognised tasks and majesty: they tend to placate us, and not dig in.

Often it is precisely disturbances that improve judgement.

The dripping can stir up the voice of the most authentic part of ourselves, become an incisive echo to find ourselves, and complete ourselves - bringing forward the pioneering heart, instead of holding it back.

The road of trial and imbalance awakens us from the harmful ageing of the spirit.

It recovers contrary energies, opposing sides, and incompatible desires, (allied) passions to which we have not given space.

Even in the torturing experience of limitation, God wants to reach out to our variegated seed, so that it does not allow itself to be plundered - not even by the dismay of having drawn the morsel together and being the traitor.

Nothing is disabling.

There is only one toxic, chronic sphere of death, which annihilates everything and has no active germs in it: that which obscures and detests primary change.

There the horizon narrows and only an abyss remains - or the blandness that infects to make us give up, and retreat relentlessly, deny and regress again.

All that remains are the fears, the half-choices, the neuroses silenced by the compromise that attempts to fill the precious sense of emptiness.

We stand before a Lord reduced to nothing, so that we too may understand ourselves in our defections; in the episodes in which we make useless and deviant contrivances, all measured, that fatigue in vain.

The story of the incomprehensible loneliness of Christ alongside the traitor and the renegade is written in our hearts.

It is all reality, but for salvation, for renewed intimacy and conviction.

The missionary vocation is extinguished and stagnates only by ballasts of calculation and common mentality - where the naked poverty of the discordant being that we are does not shake (nor tinkle).

Without the abandonment undergone, man does not become universal, indeed he tends to attenuate the best instruments of God's power.

On that steppe ground He is giving us the friendship of a shift in our gaze.

Without the restlessness of the deep and humiliating disturbance - without the surrender of one's humanity in extreme weakness - our unsatisfied puppet lingers, content.

Despite admiration for values, it too becomes a residual larva. A caricature of the being we could be: women and men with a contemplative eye.

Completed from within, like Jesus.

To internalise and live the message:

What do I draw when the Lord asks me to risk?

What have unfriendly gestures, and rejection, meant for you in the paradoxical outcomes?

To love is to create: Glory turning the page

Commandment Liberation. Cause Source

(Jn 13:31-35)

Mutual union is the Lord's ultimate will. Jesus entrusts his testament to the disciples with a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Lev 19:18).

But the Son of God does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of the same religion. He breaks down the barriers hitherto considered obvious. 

Yet the great novelty is in the fundamental motivation.

Mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation there lurks a possession of riches, growing perfections, that want to surface.From such a treasure chest, knowledge, solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up - not from external conditioning and tasks to be performed or exploited.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating, but first and foremost because it reveals one's vocation and the intimate life of God, the relationship between the Father and the Son, assumed.

It is a manifesting bond, which becomes foundation, growing motive and driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page: it ushers in a new age, a new kingdom.

The "new" commandment of love - Christ's only delivery - is the figure of the Easter victory, theophany and testimony of his authentic people: "not with measure" (Jn 3:31-36: 34).

The 'without measure' is that of the mystical wedding between the two 'natures', of the intimate friendship that penetrates the Father's life.

Even in the waiting, the unconfined enlivens existence and fulfils it, coming from the experience of substance and vertigo - already in themselves.

It is the life of the Son in us: perception of a constitutive 'being'. So without losing interest in the time of absence.

And to be able to change; intuition of a different (irreducible) "glory" with special characteristics.

Now the morality of religions no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethic, in the Spirit that renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose, every role, every ministry, is illuminated by the victory of life over death.

In this way, behaviour must be configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions. The baptismal attitude cannot be measured.

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness, which transcend.

This is how eminent goals are moved: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformity and average horizons.

For a pious Israelite to have glory is to give specific weight to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but in an elective sense.

"Was it true glory?" - Manzoni asks himself: from glory-vain and vain it rolls down. Quite another is the Glory as the real Presence of God.

Here are the disagreements between community and humanity (people in fullness); liturgy and reality, prayer and listening, theology and life, proclamations and behind the scenes.

While the Synoptics proclaim universal love, the author of the Fourth Gospel is concerned that the unexpressed testimony of the sons not be a blatant denial of the holiness preached to others [by the 'elect'].

As Paul VI said: "Contemporary man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers". Not only for a due and proper assessment of moral consistency, but because they refer back to the Mystery, to divine Gold.

Only if we are placed on the same wave of beauty and fascination as the "Son of Man" do we contribute to not letting it fade away or exclude it: the more human we are without duplicity, the more Heaven is manifested in us.

Of course, it seems impossible to love 'like' Him (v.34), but here the Greek expression has another reading possibility. The original term does not merely indicate an ideal horizon or the lofty measure - unattainable by effort.

"Kathòs" [adverb and conjunction] is endowed with generative as well as comparative value.

The key expression of the passage can be understood as: "Love one another because I have loved you unconditionally" or "Because I have loved you gratuitously, on that very wave of life, you can now love one another".

It means: making our neighbour feel already enabled - adequate and free - is the only unreduced mark of Faith in Christ.

In short, the Father is not the God of prescriptions: He does not absorb our energies, but generates and dilates them.

It does not claim to suffocate and exhaust us.

The badge, the emblem of the full testimony of the sons and daughters of the outspoken community is not its own production.

It retains an indestructible quality of elasticity and relationship that does not dismay, nor does it let arms fall: it gives breath.

It is not the work of fanatical pro- and anti-fans, nor of a devout individualism that preaches the "salvation of one's own soul" - an exasperation of religious piety and the pedestrian retributive morality of "merits".

It is the unfolding of the action of the Son of Man (v. 31) that makes the downtrodden and mean powerful.

The Master is not content to be a queer gregarious, like the heterodox Judas, a zealous apostle in appearance.

"Son of man" indicates Jesus who manifests the Father, the man who makes manifest the divine condition.

The Person who in his human fullness reflects the healthy design of the Origins - possibility for all reborn in Christ.

Carnal feeling is in a hurry to regulate itself on the basis of goals and titles; of achievements and success, or of the perfection and prestige of the beloved. 

It establishes boundaries.Divine Love (and that of the sons) is disproportionate, it has a different conduct: it prevents, it recovers; it does not break understanding, it helps.

Non-wandering Love knows the small, the uncertain and the weak. He knows that they only grow through the experience of the Gift, otherwise they get stuck.

If gratuitousness does not supplant merit, no one grows stronger; on the contrary, all - even the energetic - shrink. It condemns to an external cloak of norms and doctrines, or disembodied abstractions and sophistries.

That is why the 'Son of Man' - the genuine and full development of the divine plan for mankind - is not hindered by public sinners, but by those who suppose of themselves and would have the ministry of making it known!

Divine Glory has nothing to do with uniforms, coats, cockades or epidermal badges; it manifests itself in Communion without prior interdictions, in the service given to the inadequate and unmanifested - from which to hope zero.

Nothing can be integrated then, adding a little something - a simple 'completion' - to the norms of the First Covenant [which did not insist on God-likeness but on mass obedience].

Inclinations of a fundamentalist nature, or mannerisms of circumstance and à la page, the lust for worldly prestige - in reality - divide.

The conviviality of differences encompasses, dilutes, accentuates the amalgam and unites, enriching. It opens to the unusual and unimaginable.

The founders of religions propose a worldview and are static models of behaviour.

They do not envisage an increasing offer (Jn 14:12: "greater works"). Widely personal invitations - deep and sharp, more so than their own.

Jesus is not a predictable 'model' to be imitated.

It is first and foremost - we repeat - a Motive and an Engine: we love like and because Christ. We live by Him, each.

We risk everything because we are within an Event that we have seen, of a Relationship that not only persuades, but leads us and generates beyond; not in a waning way.

We are no longer under a Law that appoints God by obligation, but in the challenge of a gesture that re-creates and gradually realises, making our weakness strong.

So much so that shadow sides become resources and amazement. All without depersonalising; on the contrary, emphasising uniqueness.

This is the "new" commandment.

"Kainòs" is a Greek term that marks difference, eclipses the rest - in the sense that it sums up, surpasses and replaces. It supersedes all commandments: obvious and conditional.

And there will be no better one, because our hope is not Heaven (ready-made), but Heaven on earth.

More than the too far of the old final Paradise with invariable fare and predictable fulfilment. Modic, conformist, sectoral; even there articulated according to roles.

And pyramidal.

Peter's rash generosity does not protect him, however, from the risks connected with human weakness. Moreover, it is what we too can recognize in our own lives. Peter followed Jesus with enthusiasm, he overcame the trial of faith, abandoning himself to Christ. The moment comes, however, when he gives in to fear and falls:  he betrays the Master (cf. Mk 14: 66-72).

The school of faith is not a triumphal march but a journey marked daily by suffering and love, trials and faithfulness. Peter, who promised absolute fidelity, knew the bitterness and humiliation of denial:  the arrogant man learns the costly lesson of humility. Peter, too, must learn that he is weak and in need of forgiveness.

Once his attitude changes and he understands the truth of his weak heart of a believing sinner, he weeps in a fit of liberating repentance. After this weeping he is finally ready for his mission [...]

From the naïve enthusiasm of initial acceptance, passing though the sorrowful experience of denial and the weeping of conversion, Peter succeeded in entrusting himself to that Jesus who adapted himself to his poor capacity of love. And in this way he shows us the way, notwithstanding all of our weakness. We know that Jesus adapts himself to this weakness of ours.

We follow him with our poor capacity to love and we know that Jesus is good and he accepts us.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 24 May 2006]

Man cannot live without love. He remains a being that is incomprehensible for himself, his life is senseless, if love is not revealed to him, if he does not encounter love, if he does not experience it and make it his own, if he does not participate intimately in it. This, as has already been said, is why Christ the Redeemer "fully reveals man to himself". If we may use the expression, this is the human dimension of the mystery of the Redemption. In this dimension man finds again the greatness, dignity and value that belong to his humanity. In the mystery of the Redemption man becomes newly "expressed" and, in a way, is newly created. He is newly created! "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus"64. The man who wishes to understand himself thoroughly-and not just in accordance with immediate, partial, often superficial, and even illusory standards and measures of his being-he must with his unrest, uncertainty and even his weakness and sinfulness, with his life and death, draw near to Christ. He must, so to speak, enter into him with all his own self, he must "appropriate" and assimilate the whole of the reality of the Incarnation and Redemption in order to find himself. If this profound process takes place within him, he then bears fruit not only of adoration of God but also of deep wonder at himself. How precious must man be in the eyes of the Creator, if he "gained so great a Redeemer"65, and if God "gave his only Son "in order that man "should not perish but have eternal life"66.

In reality, the name for that deep amazement at man's worth and dignity is the Gospel, that is to say: the Good News. It is also called Christianity. This amazement determines the Church's mission in the world and, perhaps even more so, "in the modern world". This amazement, which is also a conviction and a certitude-at its deepest root it is the certainty of faith, but in a hidden and mysterious way it vivifies every aspect of authentic humanism-is closely connected with Christ. It also fixes Christ's place-so to speak, his particular right of citizenship-in the history of man and mankind. Unceasingly contemplating the whole of Christ's mystery, the Church knows with all the certainty of faith that the Redemption that took place through the Cross has definitively restored his dignity to man and given back meaning to his life in the world, a meaning that was lost to a considerable extent because of sin. And for that reason, the Redemption was accomplished in the paschal mystery, leading through the Cross and death to Resurrection.

The Church's fundamental function in every age and particularly in ours is to direct man's gaze, to point the awareness and experience of the whole of humanity towards the mystery of God, to help all men to be familiar with the profundity of the Redemption taking place in Christ Jesus. At the same time man's deepest sphere is involved-we mean the sphere of human hearts, consciences and events..

[Pope John Paul II, Redemptor hominis, no.10]

In these days of Lent we have seen the persecution that Jesus suffered and how the doctors of the Law raged against him: he was judged under doggedness, with doggedness, being innocent. I would like to pray today for all the people who suffer an unjust sentence because of doggedness.

The prophecy of Isaiah that we have heard is a prophecy about the Messiah, about the Redeemer, but it is also a prophecy about the people of Israel, about the people of God: we can say that it can be a prophecy about each one of us. In essence, the prophecy emphasises that the Lord elected his servant from the womb: twice it says so (cf. Isaiah 49:1). From the beginning his servant was elected, from birth or before birth. God's people were chosen before they were born, even each one of us. None of us fell into the world by chance, by accident. Everyone has a destiny, has a free destiny, the destiny of God's election. I am born with the destiny of being a child of God, of being a servant of God, with the task of serving, of building, of edifying. And this, from the womb.

The Servant of Yahweh, Jesus, served until death: it seemed a defeat, but it was the way to serve. And this underlines the way of serving that we must take in our lives. To serve is to give oneself, to give oneself to others. To serve is not to expect any benefit for anyone other than serving. It is the glory, to serve; and the glory of Christ is to serve even to the point of annihilating himself, even to death, death on a cross (cf. Phil 2:8). Jesus is the servant of Israel. God's people are servants, and when God's people stray from this attitude of serving they are apostate people: they stray from the vocation God has given them. And when each of us turns away from this vocation to serve, we turn away from the love of God. And he builds his life on other loves, many times idolising.

The Lord elected us from the womb. There are, in life, falls: each of us is a sinner and can fall and has fallen. Only Our Lady and Jesus [are sinless]: all the rest of us are fallen, we are sinners. But what is important is the attitude before the God who has chosen me, who has anointed me as a servant; it is the attitude of a sinner who is able to ask for forgiveness, like Peter, who swears that "no, I will never deny you, Lord, never, never!", then, when the cock crows, he cries. He repents (cf. Mt 26:75). This is the way of the servant: when he slips, when he falls, ask for forgiveness.

On the other hand, when the servant is not able to understand that he has fallen, when the passion takes him in such a way that it leads him to idolatry, he opens his heart to Satan, he enters into the night: this is what happened to Judas (cf. Mt 27:3-10).

Let us think today of Jesus, the servant, faithful in service. His vocation is to serve, even unto death and death on a cross (cf. Phil 2:5-11). Let us think of each one of us, part of the people of God: we are servants, our vocation is to serve, not to take advantage of our place in the Church. Serve. Always in service.

We ask for the grace to persevere in service. Sometimes with slips, falls, but the grace at least to weep as Peter wept.

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily 7 April 2020]