The Lord of Life (or the pale sign)

(Jn 11:1-45)

Jn 9:1-41 [the famous passage of the Born Blind] makes us reflect on the sign of the opening of the eyes.

Even in losers, there can be growth in awareness of personal dignity and vocation by Faith.

One question remains: a Light, if given in time... perhaps not much use.

Christ conveys to us a consciousness filled with perception and capable of sapiential, spiritual, missionary endeavour - but is there a final Goal or does it all end there?

If we have to fend for ourselves, what is the point of the biblical Promises? 

How come we feel longings for Fulness, then the plunge into nothingness?

Where is God's Love and omnipotence? What about the Risen One, the life of the Eternal One present among us? Has not his very life already been given to us?

The event of death disconcerts, and that of a friend of God in community [Bethany] perhaps accentuates questions about the meaning of our belief and commitment.

Why is it that in our hour of greatest need, the Lord allows us to fall? Why does he seem not to be there (v.21)?

Yet we understand that to be able to carry on an endless old age would not be a victory over death.

The belief of ancient cultures is that when the gods formed mankind they attributed death to it, and kept life for themselves.

Anyone who went in desperate search of the mythical herb that makes the old young had to resign himself: to die was to leave for a country with no return.

By letting even his dearest friends perish, Jesus educates us: it is not his intention to procrastinate biological existence (vv.14-15), nor simply to improve it a little.

Christ is not a 'doctor' who comes to postpone the appointment with death, but He who conquers death - because He transforms it into a Birth.

After all, a truly authentic, human and humanising life needs to look our condition in the face.

Health and physical life are gifts that everyone wants to prolong, but at the end they must be surrendered, in the Landing that no longer scratches.

Eternal [in the Gospels, the very Life of the Eternal: Zoè aiònios] is not this form of life [in the Gospels: Bìos - perhaps enhanced] but only its times of strong love.

This is the authenticity of grace to be asked for and developed. Perenniality to be responded to, a unique condition that does not give us checkmate.

The Ultimate World does not interfere with the natural course, although it may already manifest itself - in the intimate reality of multifaceted coexistence.

But this higher experience [of Covenant even with discomfort] lurks solely in that which is indestructible quality; personal, and in micro and macro relationships.

In particular, Communion: the only sign of the form of Life that takes on but does not waver, has no limits, and will have no end.

This is why the Lord does not enter the 'village' where others have gone to console and offer condolences.

He wants Mary to come out of the house where everyone is weeping in despair and offering condolences - as if everything were over.

She intends to get us out of the 'little village' where it is believed that the earthly end can only be senselessly deferred, to the tomb with no future.

He definitely wants us out of the little village where everyone is in mourning and left with the feigned consolation of funeral practices, 'relief' seasoned only with pretty phrases.

The natural emotion of parting does not hold back the tears, which spontaneously 'flow from the eyes, slide down' [dakryein-edakrysen].

The emotion does not produce a broken and shouted cry [klaiein] like the inconsolable one of the Jews [vv.33.35 Greek text; the Italian translation is confusing].

No farewell. This is followed by the order to remove the stone that at that time closed the tombs (v.39).

The strong reminder is absolutely imperative: the 'dead' are not 'dead', as the ancient religions believe; their life continues.

"Lazarus, out here!" [v.43 Greek text]: it is the cry of the victory of life. 

In the adventure of faith in Christ we discover that life has no stones on it.

Enough, groaning over deadly situations. They bring us closer to our roots, and to full bloom.

And we stop mourning the "dead"!

The appeal the Lord makes today - still after two millennia! - is that there is no such thing as a sunken world of the disappeared.

Compared to the going on earth, the departed are not well separated from us; in a place of their own, lacking communication with the present.

Archaic beliefs imagined Hades or Sheôl to be a dark cave, steeped in mist, here and there populated with insubstantial, wandering larvae.

The world of the living is not separate from that of the dead.

"Lazarus has fallen asleep" (v.11), i.e.: he is not a fallen man, for men do not die. They pass from creaturely life [bìos] to full Life [Zoè].The deceased has left this world and entered the world of God, re-born and begotten to his authentic, complete, definitive being.

Therefore: "Unbind him and let him go!".

In short, Lazarus did not simply end up in the grave, nor was he well revived by Christ he reappears in this form of life for another stretch... inexorably marked by limitation.

In the story, in fact, while everyone goes towards Jesus, Lazarus does not.

This is not what Jesus can do in the face of death. He does not immortalise this condition, otherwise existence would continue to be a useless flight from the decisive appointment.

And it is time to stop sobbing over the loved one: 'deceased', not 'dead'.

We should not hold it back with obsessive visits, tormented memories, talismans, condolences: let it exist happily in its new condition!

Life for us and Life for those who have already flourished in the world of God's Peace - where we live fully: with one another and for one another.

A condition that we can thus prefigure, dissolving not a few intimate blocks, external impediments, and relational laces; drowned in the moods of bitterness, consternation, and despondency:

"Even today Jesus repeats to us: 'Remove the stone. God did not create us for the grave, he created us for life, beautiful, good, joyful.

Therefore, we are called to remove the stones of everything that smacks of death: for example, the hypocrisy with which one lives the faith, it is death; the destructive criticism of others, it is death; the offence, the slander, it is death; the marginalisation of the poor, it is death.

The Lord asks us to remove these stones from our hearts, and life will then flourish around us again.

Christ lives, and whoever accepts Him and adheres to Him comes into contact with life. Without Christ, or outside of Christ, not only is there no life, but we fall back into death.

Let each one of us be close to those who are in trial, becoming for them a reflection of God's love and tenderness, which frees from death and makes life conquer".

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 March 2020].

To internalise and live the message:

In the face of bereavement, what atmosphere do you perceive at home, in church, at the cemetery, during the funeral? And condolences, how do they affect you?

On Bethany [continuation of the Lazarus passage]:

Jesus Comes to the Feast, but as a stowaway

(Jn 11:45-56)

Christ is all that the Jewish feasts promised and proclaimed.

They decried authoritatively, but unconsciously (vv.47-52 take pleasure in double-meaning words).

The high priest was in fact speaking for God: he was interpreting the situation in a divinely inspired way.

In Christ, the promise made to Abraham was being fulfilled: the era of the dispersion of men was coming to an end.

The Cross would fulfil the vocation of the Temple: the recomposition of the people and the unity of the human being from the barren and distant land, in sharing and gratuitousness.

But what could also have been the starting point (energy) for Jesus not to retreat within the limits of his own environment down to the last detail, and to activate a path of rebirth?

The community of Bethany ['house of the poor'] is an image of the first realities of faith, destitute and composed of only brothers and sisters, without co-opted and appointed authorities. On a personal scale.

Where one could loosen those bonds that prevented one from going beyond the already known. Without patriarchs with calibrated, obsessive and vindictive control - where one does not look at oneself.

A nest of healthy relationships, which could give meaning even to wounds.

It is the only place where Jesus was at ease, the only reality in which we can still recognise him alive and present in the midst of - indeed, Source of life for the modest and needy.

Strident in the Gospel passage is the comparison with the vulgar cunning of the directors and the out-of-scale dimension of the commanded places and festivals.

As if no sap flows there between God's holiness and the real life of the lowly.

Despite the fact that the Master did good - as in all regimes, there was no lack of delinquents (v.46).

On the other hand, a large part of the inhabitants of Jerusalem found their material sustenance in the Temple activities.

Imagine if the top of the class would have let themselves be ripped off the bone to go after a stranger who intended to supplant the official institution and positions of privilege with an unadorned utopia.

The throne of the prince of the fraternal house was conversely without cushions, and the community co-ordinator a woman: Marta ['madam']. Backward, servant leader.

Anything but a reactionary defence of privileged positions and the ancient order... still all downward tensions and 'settling' according to chain of command, which never give us any hints of new life. A viscous situation that the initiative of the synodal path finally attempts to unhinge.Under Domitian, these small alternative realities - although caring for the small and distant - had to live like Jesus: clandestine.

They paid for their unity with the cross. But they renewed the life of the empire.

[That of Lazarus is] the last "sign" fulfilled by Jesus, after which the chief priests convened the Sanhedrin and deliberated killing him, and decided to kill the same Lazarus who was living proof of the divinity of Christ, the Lord of life and death. Actually, this Gospel passage shows Jesus as true Man and true God. First of all, the Evangelist insists on his friendship with Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. He emphasizes that "Jesus loved" them (Jn 11: 5), and this is why he wanted to accomplish the great wonder. "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him out of sleep" (Jn 11: 11), he tells his disciples, expressing God's viewpoint on physical death with the metaphor of sleep. God sees it exactly as sleep, from which he can awaken us. Jesus has shown an absolute power regarding this death, seen when he gives life back to the widow of Nain's young son (cf. Lk 7: 11-17) and to the 12 year-old girl (cf. Mk 5: 35-43). Precisely concerning her he said:  "The child is not dead but sleeping" (Mk 5: 39), attracting the derision of those present. But in truth it is exactly like this: bodily death is a sleep from which God can awaken us at any moment.

This lordship over death does not impede Jesus from feeling sincere "com-passion" for the sorrow of detachment. Seeing Martha and Mary and those who had come to console them weeping, Jesus "was deeply moved in spirit and troubled", and lastly, "wept" (Jn 11: 33, 35). Christ's heart is divine-human:  in him God and man meet perfectly, without separation and without confusion. He is the image, or rather, the incarnation of God who is love, mercy, paternal and maternal tenderness, of God who is Life. Therefore, he solemnly declared to Martha:  "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die". And he adds, "Do you believe this?" (Jn 11: 25-26). It is a question that Jesus addresses to each one of us:  a question that certainly rises above us, rises above our capacity to understand, and it asks us to entrust ourselves to him as he entrusted himself to the Father. Martha's response is exemplary:  "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world" (Jn 11: 27). Yes, O Lord! We also believe, notwithstanding our doubts and darkness; we believe in you because you have the words of eternal life. We want to believe in you, who give us a trustworthy hope of life beyond life, of authentic and full life in your Kingdom of light and peace.

We entrust this prayer to Mary Most Holy. May her intercession strengthen our faith and hope in Jesus, especially in moments of greater trial and difficulty.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 9 March 2008]

Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died" (Jn 11:21, 32).

These words, which you have heard read in the Gospel of today's Mass, are pronounced first by Martha, then by Mary, the two sisters of Lazarus, and are addressed to Jesus of Nazareth, who was their friend and their brother's friend.

Today's liturgy presents the theme of death to our attention. This is now the fifth Sunday of Lent and the time of Christ's passion is approaching. The time of death and resurrection. Today we look at this fact through the death and resurrection of Lazarus. In Christ's messianic mission, this shattering event serves as a preparation for Holy Week and Easter.

2. ". . . my brother would not have died".

The voice of the human heart resounds in these words, the voice of a heart that loves and bears witness to what death is. All the time we hear about death and read news about the death of various people. There is systematic information on this subject. There is also death statistics. We know that death is a common and unceasing phenomenon. If around 145,000 people die on the globe every day, we can say that people die every moment. Death is a universal phenomenon and an ordinary fact. The universality and ordinariness of the fact confirm the reality of death, the inevitability of death, but, at the same time, they erase in a certain sense the truth about death, its penetrating eloquence.

The language of statistics is not enough here. The voice of the human heart is needed: the voice of a sister, as in today's Gospel, the voice of a person who loves. The reality of death can only be expressed in all its truth in the language of love.

For love resists death, and desires life . . .

Each of the two sisters of Lazarus does not say 'my brother is dead', but says: 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died'.

The truth about death can only be expressed from a perspective of life, from a desire for life: that is, from remaining in the loving communion of a person.

The truth about death is expressed in today's liturgy in relation to the voice of the human heart.

3. At the same time it is expressed in relation to the mission of Christ, the world's redeemer.

Jesus of Nazareth was the friend of Lazarus and his sisters. The death of his friend was also felt in his heart with a particular echo. When he came to Bethany, when he heard the weeping of the sisters and others who were fond of the deceased, Jesus "was deeply moved, he was troubled", and in this inner disposition he asked: "Where have you laid him?" (John 11: 33).

Jesus of Nazareth is at the same time the Christ, the one the Father sent to the world: he is the eternal witness of the Father's love. He is the ultimate spokesman of this love before men. He is in a certain sense the Host of it with regard to each and all. In him and for him the eternal love of the Father is confirmed and fulfilled in human history, confirmed and fulfilled in a superabundant manner.

And love opposes death and wants life.

Man's death, ever since Adam, is opposed to love: it is opposed to the love of the Father, the God of life.

The root of death is sin, which also opposes the Father's love. In human history, death is united with sin, and like sin it is opposed to love.

4. Jesus Christ came into the world to redeem man's sin; every sin that is rooted in man. That is why he confronted the reality of death; for death is united with sin in human history: it is the fruit of sin. Jesus Christ became man's redeemer through his death on the cross, which was the sacrifice that repaired all sin.

In his death, Jesus Christ confirmed the testimony of the Father's love. The love that resists death, and desires life, was expressed in the resurrection of Christ, of him who, to redeem the sins of the world, freely accepted death on the cross.

This event is called Easter: the paschal mystery. Every year we prepare for it through Lent, and today's Sunday now shows us this mystery at close quarters, in which God's love and power have been revealed, as life has brought victory over death.

5. What happened in Bethany at the tomb of Lazarus was almost the last announcement of the paschal mystery.

Jesus of Nazareth stood by the tomb of his friend Lazarus, and said: "Lazarus, come out!" (John 11: 43). With these words, full of power, Jesus raised him to life and brought him out of the tomb.

Before performing this miracle, Christ "lifted up his eyes and said: 'Father, I thank you that you have listened to me. I knew that you always listen to me, but I said this for the people around me, so that they might believe that you sent me'" (John 11: 41-42).At the tomb of Lazarus a particular confrontation of death with the redemptive mission of Christ took place. Christ was the witness of the eternal love of the Father, of that love that resists death and desires life. By raising Lazarus, he bore witness to this love. He also bore witness to God's exclusive power over life and death.

At the same time, at Lazarus' tomb, Christ was the prophet of his own mystery: of the paschal mystery, in which the redemptive death on the cross became the source of new life in the resurrection.

8. The pilgrimage, which you have undertaken today because of the Jubilee, introduces you, dear soldiers gathered here from different countries, into the mystery of redemption, through the liturgy of today's Lenten Sunday, which invites us to pause, I would say, on the frontier of life and death, to worship the presence and love of God.

Here are the words of the prophet Ezekiel: "Says the Lord God: 'You shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and raise you from your graves, O my people'" (Ez 37:12, 13).

These words were fulfilled at the tomb of Lazarus in Bethany. They were definitively fulfilled at the tomb of Christ on Calvary. Today's liturgy makes us aware of this.

In the resurrection of Lazarus, God's power over man's spirit and body was manifested.

In Christ's resurrection, the Holy Spirit was granted as the source of new life: divine life. This life is man's eternal destiny. It is his vocation received from God. In this life, the eternal love of the Father is realised.

For love desires life and is opposed to death.

Dear brothers! Let us live this life! Let sin not dominate in us! Let us live this life, the price of which is redemption through Christ's death on the cross!

"And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you" (Rom 8:11).

May the Holy Spirit dwell in you always through the grace of Christ's redemption. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, Homily for the Jubilee of the Military 8 April 1984]

The Gospel [...] is the resurrection of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45). Lazarus was Martha and Mary’s brother; they were good friends of Jesus. When Jesus arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has already been dead for four days. Martha runs towards the Master and says to Him: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died!” (v. 21). Jesus replies to her: “Your brother will rise again” (v. 23) and adds: “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (v. 25). Jesus makes himself seen as the Lord of life, he who is capable of giving life even to the dead. Then Mary and other people arrive, in tears, and so Jesus — the Gospel says — “was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.... Jesus wept” (vv. 33, 35). With this turmoil in his heart, he goes to the tomb, thanks the Father who always listens to him, has the tomb opened and cries aloud: “Lazarus, come out!” (v. 43). And Lazarus emerges with “his hands and feet bound with bandages and his face wrapped with a cloth” (v. 44).

Here we can experience first hand that God is life and gives life, yet takes on the tragedy of death. Jesus could have avoided the death of his friend Lazarus, but he wanted to share in our suffering for the death of people dear to us, and above all, he wished to demonstrate God’s dominion over death. In this Gospel passage we see that the faith of man and the omnipotence of God, of God’s love, seek each other and finally meet. It is like a two lane street: the faith of man and the omnipotence of God’s love seek each other and finally meet. We see this in the cry of Martha and Mary, and of all of us with them: “If you had been here!”. And God’s answer is not a speech, no, God’s answer to the problem of death is Jesus: “I am the resurrection and the life” ... have faith. Amid grief, continue to have faith, even when it seems that death has won. Take away the stone from your heart! Let the Word of God restore life where there is death.

Today, too, Jesus repeats to us: “Take away the stone”. God did not create us for the tomb, but rather he created us for life, [which is] beautiful, good, joyful. But “through the devil’s envy death entered the world” (Wis 2:24) says the Book of Wisdom, and Jesus Christ came to free us from its bonds.

We are thus called to take away the stones of all that suggests death: for example, the hypocrisy with which faith is lived, is death; the destructive criticism of others, is death; insults, slander, are death; the marginalization of the poor, is death. The Lord asks us to remove these stones from our hearts, and life will then flourish again around us. Christ lives, and those who welcome him and follow him come into contact with life. Without Christ, or outside of Christ, not only is life not present, but one falls back into death.

The resurrection of Lazarus is also a sign of the regeneration that occurs in the believer through Baptism, with full integration within the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Through the action and power of the Holy Spirit, the Christian is a person who journeys in life as a new creature: a creature for life, who goes towards life.

May the Virgin Mary help us to be compassionate like her son Jesus, who made our suffering his own. May each of us be close to those who are in difficulty, becoming for them a reflection of God’s love and tenderness, which frees us from death and makes life victorious.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 March 2020]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people to discover the things of God and man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom becoming Present, describing precisely the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the «mustard seed» and the «leaven».

To say: the authentic Church is within reach of everyone, everywhere - nonetheless exiguous; inapparent, yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginnings and term: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one that welcomes the character of an inapparent Word-event, but one that activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first term of comparison related to the life of the people [the little seed] mentions the story of a very small grain: a common concrete event, which is not very noticeable.

Around the Lake of Galilee, mustard shrubs can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

It is not the same development as the majestic cedars of Lebanon - rather of just any small tree in the kitchen garden (v.32), however, capable of giving a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence of little fuss: quite normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing big, yet hospitable to those suffering from the powerful heat of those places.

In short, the fraternities that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent and outward, but they will know how to give shelter and rest.

The strength of the «mustard speck» is intimate, yet strong-willed: it will grow - though not by much.

That is, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Maybe it will be more like a small barque: no big deal - yet it will raise hopes of life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of amiable evangelisers, who still proclaim and work, radiating light, captivating people.

Whoever approaches the threshold of the churches - the reference is to the distant and pagan - must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will be fully entitled to take up their position and build their nest [in such a common Abode] even if they then decide to take flight again as soon as they have used it.

The next comparison - of the «leaven» (v.33) - insists on caring for the life goals of other brethren, with respect to the Community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's concern for all his sons.

The leaven is not useful to itself, but to the mass.

Likewise, the Church shall not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration and development [material, or with a view to proselytism; and so on].

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of people's lives alone, where and how they are - just as they are.

To internalize and live the message:

What seed had you neglected because of its smallness, and then it turned out to be essential for your growth and the needs of others as well?

[Lunedì 17.a sett. T.O.   28 luglio 2025]

(Mt 13:31-35)

Jesus helps people discover the things of God and of man in everyday life.

The Master teaches that the extraordinary nature of the eternal world is hidden in ordinary things: life itself is a transparency of the Mystery.

He reveals the Kingdom that is becoming Present, describing the essential characteristics of the community of disciples - and using here the simple comparisons of the 'mustard seed' and 'yeast'.

In other words, the authentic Church is within everyone's reach, everywhere - yet small, inconspicuous, and yet intimately dynamic.

In it, we experience a contrast between beginning and end: we experience the Kingdom 'within' each one who welcomes the character of a humble Word-event, but which activates transformative and hospitable capacities.

The first point of comparison linked to people's lives [the seed] refers to the story of a very small grain of wheat: a concrete, common story that is not particularly noticeable.

Around the Sea of Galilee, mustard bushes can reach a maximum height of 3 metres, no more.

This is not the growth of majestic cedars of Lebanon, but rather a small tree in a home garden (v. 32), yet capable of providing a little refreshment to the birds that take refuge there.

It indicates a presence that is not very noticeable: completely normal, mixed in with aubergines, courgettes and cucumbers...

Nothing great, yet hospitable to those who suffer the intense heat of those places.

In short, the brotherhoods that the Lord dreams of will have nothing magnificent or outwardly impressive, but they will be able to offer shelter and rest.

The strength of the 'mustard seed' is intimate, yet stubborn: it will grow - even if not by much.

In other words, the authentic Church should not resemble a majestic ocean liner.

Perhaps it will be more like a small boat: nothing special, yet capable of inspiring hope for life.

It will do so through the discreet witness of loving evangelisers who continue to proclaim and work, radiating light and captivating people.

Anyone who approaches the threshold of churches – I am referring to those who are distant and pagan – must feel at ease, at home.

Even the 'wanderers' will have every right to take up residence and build their nest [in this common dwelling] even if they decide to fly away again as soon as they have served their purpose.

The next comparison - that of 'yeast' (v. 33) - emphasises the importance of caring for the life goals of other brothers and sisters in the community of believers.

In this way, it is called to be a sign of the Father's care for all his children.

Yeast is not useful to itself, but to the dough.

In the same way, the Church must not serve itself; it will not be concerned with its own celebration or development (material, proselytism, etc.).

Every Fraternity in Christ is a function of the life of the people, wherever and however they find themselves - just as they are.

To internalise and live the message:

What seed did you neglect because of its smallness, and then it proved essential for your growth and the needs of others?

[Parables: Narrative for transmutation]

The mystery of common blindness. Lost? Ready for transformation

(Mt 13:34-35)

St Paul expresses the meaning of the 'mystery of blindness' that contrasts with his journey with the famous expression 'thorn in the side': wherever he went, enemies were already waiting for him, and unexpected disagreements arose.

So it is for us: disastrous events, catastrophes, emergencies, the disintegration of old reassuring certainties - all external and murky; until recently considered permanent.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings have been the best way to reactivate ourselves and introduce the energies of renewed life.

These are resources or situations that we might never have imagined as allies in our own and others' fulfilment.

Erich Fromm says:

'To live is to be born every moment. Death occurs when we cease to be born. Birth is therefore not an act; it is an uninterrupted process. The purpose of life is to be born fully, but the tragedy is that most of us die before we are truly born'.

Indeed, in a climate of unrest or absurd differences [which force us to regenerate], the most neglected inner virtues sometimes come to the fore.

New energies - seeking space - and external powers. Both malleable; unusual, unimaginable, unorthodox.

But they find solutions, the real way out of our problems; the path to a future that is not simply a reorganisation of the previous situation, or of how we imagined 'we should have been and done'.

With one cycle concluded, we begin a new phase; perhaps with greater rectitude and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, closer to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is generated in an acute way precisely by detachments.They lead us to a dynamic dialogue with the eternal reserves of transmuting forces that inhabit us and belong to us.

A primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us, this path 'fishes' for the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

In this way, the Lord transmits and opens his proposal using 'images'.

An arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, culture, procedures, and what is common.

For a knowledge of oneself and of the world that goes beyond that of history and current events; for an active awareness of other contents.

Until the turmoil and chaos themselves guide the soul and compel it to a new beginning, to a different perspective (completely shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, it is the result of a narrative exploration that does not distance people from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.

Talking about God means first of all expressing clearly what God we must bring to the men and women of our time: not an abstract God, a hypothesis, but a real God, a God who exists, who has entered history and is present in history; the God of Jesus Christ as an answer to the fundamental question of the meaning of life and of how we should live. Consequently speaking of God demands familiarity with Jesus and his Gospel, it implies that we have a real, personal knowledge of God and a strong passion for his plan of salvation without succumbing to the temptation of success, but following God’s own method. God’s method is that of humility — God makes himself one of us — his method is brought about through the Incarnation in the simple house of Nazareth; through the Grotto of Bethlehem; through the Parable of the Mustard Seed. 

We must not fear the humility of taking little steps, but trust in the leaven that penetrates the dough and slowly causes it to rise (cf. Mt 13:33). In talking about God, in the work of evangelization, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we must recover simplicity, we must return to the essence of the proclamation: the Good News of a God who is real and effective, a God who is concerned about us, a God-Love who makes himself close to us in Jesus Christ, until the Cross, and who in the Resurrection gives us hope and opens us to a life that has no end, eternal life, true life. St Paul, that exceptional communicator, gives us a lesson that goes straight to the heart of the problem of faith: “how to speak of God” with great simplicity.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience, 28 November 2012]

If in Christ the Kingdom of God "is near" and indeed present, definitively in the history of humanity and the world, at the same time its fulfilment continues to belong to the future. And so Jesus commands us to pray to the Father, "Thy Kingdom come" (Mt 6:10).

4. We must keep this question in mind as we deal with the Gospel of Christ as the "good news" of the Kingdom of God. This was the "guiding" theme of Jesus' proclamation, which speaks of the Kingdom of God above all in his numerous parables. Particularly significant is the parable that presents the Kingdom of God as a seed that a sower sows in the ground he has cultivated (cf. Mt 13:3-9). The seed is destined to "bear fruit" by its own virtue, without doubt, but the fruit also depends on the soil in which it falls (cf. Mt 13:19-23).

5. On another occasion, Jesus compared the Kingdom of God (the "Kingdom of Heaven" according to Matthew) to a mustard seed, which "is the smallest of all seeds," but once it has grown, it becomes a leafy tree, in whose branches the birds of the air find shelter (cf. Mt 13:31-32). He also compares the growth of the Kingdom of God to "yeast" that ferments flour so that it becomes bread to feed people (cf. Mt 13:33). However, Jesus also dedicates another parable to the problem of the growth of the Kingdom of God in the soil that is this world, that of the good wheat and the weeds sown by the "enemy" in the field sown with good wheat (cf. Mt 13: 24-30). Thus, in the field of the world, good and evil, symbolised by wheat and weeds, grow together "until the harvest", that is, until the day of divine judgement: another significant allusion to the eschatological perspective of human history. In any case, it tells us that the growth of the seed, which is the "word of God," is conditioned by how it is received in the field of human hearts: this determines whether it produces fruit and yields "a hundredfold, sixtyfold, or thirtyfold" (cf. Mt 13:23) according to the dispositions and responsiveness of those who receive it.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 27 April 1988]

Do Christians truly believe in the power of the Holy Spirit within them? Do they have the courage to sow the seed, to put themselves on the line, or do they take refuge in a pastoral approach of conservation that does not allow the Kingdom of God to grow? These are the questions posed by Pope Francis during Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Tuesday, 31 October, in which he outlined a horizon of 'hope' for every single person and for the Church as a community: that of the full realisation of the Kingdom of God, which has two pillars: the disruptive 'power' of the Spirit and the 'courage' to let this power be unleashed.

The inspiration came to the Pontiff from reading the Gospel passage (Luke 13:18-21) in which "Jesus seems to struggle a little: 'But how can I explain the Kingdom of God? What can I compare it to?'" and uses "two simple examples from everyday life": those of a mustard seed and yeast. Both are small, Francis explained, and seem harmless, "but when they enter into that movement, they have a power within them that comes out of themselves and grows, going beyond, even beyond what we can imagine." This is precisely "the mystery of the Kingdom."

The reality, in fact, is that "the grain has power within it, the yeast has power within it," and also "the power of the Kingdom of God comes from within; the strength comes from within, the growth comes from within." It is not, added the Pope with a comparison that refers to current events, "a growth such as occurs, for example, in the case of a football team when the number of fans increases and makes the team bigger," but "comes from within." This concept, he added, is taken up by Paul in his Letter to the Romans (8:18-25) in a passage "full of tension," because "this growth of the Kingdom of God from within, from the inside, is a growth in tension."

This is where the apostle explains: 'How many tensions there are in our lives and where they lead us', and says that 'the sufferings of this life are not comparable to the glory that awaits us'. But even 'waiting' itself, said the Pontiff, rereading the epistle, is not a 'peaceful' waiting: Paul speaks of 'ardent expectation'. There is an ardent expectation in these tensions." Moreover, this expectation is not only human, but "also of creation," which is "straining toward the revelation of the children of God." In fact, "creation, like us, has been subjected to transience" and proceeds in the "hope that it will be freed from the slavery of corruption." Therefore, 'it is the whole of creation that, from the existential transience it perceives, goes straight to glory, to freedom from slavery; it leads us to freedom. And this creation — and we with it, with creation — groans and suffers the pains of childbirth until today'.

The conclusion of this reasoning led the Pope to relaunch the concept of "hope": man and the whole of creation possess "the first fruits of the Spirit," that is, "the internal force that drives us forward and gives us hope" for the "fullness of the Kingdom of God." This is why the Apostle Paul writes 'that phrase which teaches us so much: "For in hope we were saved".

This, the Pontiff continued, is a 'journey', it is 'what leads us to fulfilment, the hope of escaping from this prison, from this limitation, from this slavery, from this corruption, and arriving at glory'. And it is, he added, 'a gift of the Spirit' that 'is within us and leads to this: to something great, to liberation, to great glory. And that is why Jesus says: "Within the mustard seed, that tiny grain, there is a force that unleashes unimaginable growth."

Here, then, is the reality prefigured by the parable: "Within us and in creation — because we are going together towards glory — there is a force that unleashes: there is the Holy Spirit. Who gives us hope." And, Francis added, "To live in hope is to let these forces of the Spirit go ahead and help us grow towards this fullness that awaits us in glory."

The Pope then reflected on another aspect, because the parable adds that "the mustard seed is taken and thrown away. A man took it and threw it into his garden" and that even the yeast is not left helpless: "a woman takes it and mixes it." It is clear that "if the grain is not taken and thrown, if the yeast is not taken by the woman and mixed, they remain there and that inner strength they have remains there." In the same way, Francis explained, "if we want to keep the grain for ourselves, it will be just grain. If we do not mix it with life, with the flour of life, the yeast, only the yeast will remain." It is therefore necessary to "throw, mix, that courage of hope." Which "grows, because the Kingdom of God grows from within, not through proselytism." It grows "with the power of the Holy Spirit."In this regard, the Pope recalled that "the Church has always had both the courage to take and throw away, to take and mix," and also "the fear of doing so." He noted: "So often we see that a pastoral approach of conservation is preferred" rather than "letting the Kingdom grow." When this happens, "we remain what we are, small, there," perhaps "we are safe," but "the Kingdom does not grow." Whereas "for the Kingdom to grow, we need courage: to throw the grain, to mix the yeast."

Some might object: "If I throw the grain, I lose it." But this, the Pope explained, is always the reality: "There is always some loss in sowing the Kingdom of God. If I mix the yeast, I get my hands dirty: thank God! Woe to those who preach the Kingdom of God with the illusion of not getting their hands dirty. They are museum curators: they prefer beautiful things" to "the gesture of throwing so that the force is unleashed, of mixing so that the force grows."

All this is contained in the words of Jesus and Paul proposed by the liturgy: the "tension that goes from slavery to sin" to "the fullness of glory." And the hope that "does not disappoint" even if it is "small like a grain of wheat and like yeast." Someone, the Pontiff recalled, "said that it is the humblest virtue, it is the servant. But there is the Spirit, and where there is hope there is the Holy Spirit. And it is precisely the Holy Spirit who carries forward the Kingdom of God." He concluded by suggesting that those present think again about "the mustard seed and the yeast, about throwing and mixing" and ask themselves: "How is my hope? Is it an illusion? A 'maybe'? Or do I believe that the Holy Spirit is there? Do I speak with the Holy Spirit?"

[Pope Francis, St. Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano, 1 November 2017]

(Lk 11:1-13)

Teach us to pray: no longer looking outward

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Lk 11:5-13)

Sometimes we put the Father in the dock, because he seems to let things go as our freedom directs them.

But his Design is not to make the world work to the perfection of old-fashioned transistors, or integrated circuits (in their respective “packages”) or “chips” [various “little bits”]...

God wants us to acquire a New Creation mentality. His Action shapes us on the Son, transforming projects, ideas, desires, words, standard behaviors.

At first, perhaps prayer may seem tinged with only requests. The more one proceeds in the experience of prayer in Christ, the less one asks.

The questions are attenuated, to the point of almost entirely ceasing - in an ever more conscious welcome, which becomes real contemplation and union.

We don’t know how long, but the ‘Result’ takes over suddenly: not only certain, but disproportionate.

As extracted from a continuous incandescence process, where there are no logical networks, nor easy shortcuts.

We receive the maximum and complete Gift.

And we can host it with dignity. A new Creation in the Spirit, a different aspect.

Unusual destination - not simply one that’s fantasized or well arranged [as transmitted or expected].

God allows events to take their own course, apparently distant from us;  therefore prayer can take on dramatic tones and arouse irritation - as if it were an open dispute between us and Him.

But the Lord chooses not to vouch for our external dreams. He doesn’t allow himself to be introduced into small limits.

The Eternal wants to involve us in something other than our goals, which are often too similar with what we have under our noses.

He invents expanded horizons, and makes us dialogue with our deep states, so that we give up the rigid point of view and are introduced into another kind of programs.

Reading from a totally "inadequate" point of view can open minds - and change feelings, transform us inside.

When someone believes to have understood the world… other, more intense expectations become already conditioned, which vice versa would like to invade our space.

Prayer then must be insistent, because it’s like a look placed on oneself; not as we thought.

The inner eye creates a sort of clear space, inside, to welcome the Presence that does not pull the essential self of the person elsewhere.

(By dwelling for a long time in the House of our very special essence).

The conscious emptying out of the piled-up junk is as if filled by the interpersonal dialogue-Listening with the Source of being.

Our particular Seed is nestled in this Wellspring of flowing water: there the difference in face that belongs to us is as if seated and in the making.

Without the definitions and aspirations of nomenclature, in a "discharged" state but full of potential energies - our characteristic and unmistakable Plant touches the divine condition.

Through incessant dialogue with the Father in prayer, we make room for the Roots of Being, for a different fate.

This in the conscious gap of that part of us that seeks certainties, approvals.

Continuous prayer [incessant listening and perception] excavates and disposes of the volume of banal redundant thoughts.

In such a space, opportunities are opened up, inner cleansing is created so that the Gift - even extravagant ones - can arrive. Not second-hand.

[17th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C), July 27, 2025]