Jesus recounts the parable of the ten virgins invited to a wedding feast, symbol of the Kingdom of Heaven.

In Jesus’ time it was customary for weddings to be celebrated at night; so the procession of guests took place with lit lamps. Some of the bridesmaids are foolish: they take their lamps but do not take the oil with them; the wise ones instead take the oil with them together with their lamps. The bridegroom is late, late in coming, and they all fall asleep. When a voice alerts them that the bridegroom is about to arrive, in that moment, the foolish ones realize that they do not have oil for their lamps; they ask the wise ones for some, but the latter reply that they cannot give away any oil, because there would not be enough for them all. While the foolish maidens go to buy oil, the bridegroom arrives. The wise maidens enter the banquet hall with him, and the door is closed. The others arrive too late and are turned away.

It is clear that with this parable, Jesus wants to tell us that we must be prepared for the encounter with him. Not only for the final encounter, but also for the everyday great and small encounters, with a view to that encounter for which the lamp of faith is not enough; we also need the oil of charity and good works. As the Apostle Paul says, the faith that truly unites us to Jesus is, “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6). It is what is represented by the behaviour of the wise maidens. Being wise and prudent means not waiting until the last moment to correspond to God’s grace, but to do so actively and immediately, starting right now. “I… yes, I will convert soon…”. “Convert today! Change your life today!”. “Yes, yes, tomorrow”. And the same thing is said tomorrow, and so it never arrives. Today! If we want to be ready for the final encounter with the Lord, we must cooperate with him now and perform good deeds inspired by his love.

We know that unfortunately it happens that we forget the purpose of our life, that is, the definitive appointment with God, thus losing the sense of expectation and making the present absolute. When one makes the present absolute, one looks only to the present, losing the sense of expectation, which is so beautiful and so necessary, and also pulls us away from the contradictions of the moment. This attitude — when one loses the sense of expectation — precludes any view of the hereafter: we do everything as if we will never depart for the other life.

And so we care only about possessing, about emerging, about establishing ourselves… And always more. If we allow ourselves to be led by what seems most attractive to us, by what we like, by seeking our interests, our life becomes sterile; we do not accumulate any reserve of oil for our lamp, and it will be extinguished before the encounter with the Lord. We must live today, but a today that goes towards tomorrow, towards that encounter, a present full of hope. If, on the other hand, we are vigilant and correspond to God’s grace by doing good, we can serenely await the bridegroom’s coming. The Lord will be able to come even while we are sleeping: this will not worry us, because we have the reserve of oil accumulated through our daily good works, accumulated with that expectation of the Lord, that he may come as soon as possible and that he may come to take us with him.

Let us invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy, that she may help us to live an active faith, as she did: [faith] is the shining lamp with which we can pass through the night beyond death and reach the great feast of life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 8 November 2020]

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time  (year A)  [23 August 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (22:19–23)

We are in Jerusalem around 700 BC, during the reign of Hezekiah. The steward of the royal palace, Shebna, holds a very important office: he is entrusted with the ‘keys of the house of David’, a symbol of the authority to control access to the king and to govern in his name. The prophet Isaiah accuses Shebna of two serious offences: 1. He supported an alliance with Egypt against the Assyrian empire, a choice that would have led to grave consequences for the kingdom: the offence, therefore, of giving bad advice. 2. Instead of serving the people, he was primarily concerned with his own prestige and power: the offence of pursuing his own interests. For this reason, Isaiah announces his dismissal and the appointment of Eliakim, described as a true servant of the people. He is entrusted with the keys to the kingdom with the words: ‘If he opens, no one will shut; if he shuts, no one will open.’ From this historical event, the sacred author draws several important messages: 1. God acts within concrete history, and political events too form part of the history of salvation. 2. Nothing escapes God’s plan of salvation, and everything contributes to its fulfilment. 3. In this context, the role of the prophets is to call rulers and those in power to justice and the common good. 4. We must constantly remember that all authority is a service: power exists for the good of the people, not for the personal interest of those who exercise it. 5 We must not forget that when the good of his people is threatened, God intervenes to raise up faithful leaders, for he never abandons his people or his plans for salvation. 

Responsorial Psalm (137/138)

The prayer of the poor rises above the clouds. This short psalm (138 according to the Hebrew numbering, 137 in the Greek) is a prayer of thanksgiving that summarises the entire history of the Covenant between God and Israel. As is often the case in the psalms, the ‘I’ who speaks actually represents the whole people of Israel, chosen by God to know his love and bear witness to it before the nations. The psalm opens with a thanksgiving: ‘I give you thanks, Lord, with all my heart’. In the Greek version, the reason for this praise is specified: God has heard the prayer of his people. This is one of the fundamental convictions of the biblical faith. Ever since the experience of Moses at the burning bush, God has presented himself as the one who sees the suffering of his people, hears their cry and knows their anguish. He is not indifferent to human suffering, but sustains his children so that they may not be overwhelmed by evil. This is why the psalm states that the Lord, though he is most high, looks with care upon the humble. The same teaching is taken up by Ben Sira: ‘The prayer of the poor pierces the clouds’, that is, it reaches God. And Jesus, too, will express the same trust before Lazarus’s tomb: ‘I knew that you always hear me’ (John 11:41–42). This is a universal psalm which, in some parts, lends itself to various possible interpretations due to differences between the Hebrew and Greek texts. The phrase ‘I will sing to you in the presence of the angels’ in the Hebrew text could be translated as ‘before the gods’ (the Elohîm). The two readings are not mutually exclusive: ‘Before the angels’ evokes the heavenly liturgy, in which the heavenly beings continually praise God with the song ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’, as in the vision of the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 6:3). ‘Before the gods’ is a profession of faith: the God of Israel is the one true God, whilst the idols of the nations have no power whatsoever. A Syriac translation, on the other hand, proposes: ‘I sing to you before the kings’. In this case, Israel’s mission to bear witness to the Lord before all the peoples of the earth comes to the fore. Rather than contradicting one another, the three interpretations complement one another. The psalm sings of God’s love and faithfulness. In the Bible, ‘love and faithfulness’ is a phrase that denotes God’s unshakeable faithfulness to the Covenant. For Israel, remembering God’s love and faithfulness means remembering that the Lord never abandons his people, even when they prove unfaithful. The conclusion is trust in God’s work. Indeed, the psalm ends with a plea: ‘Do not forsake the work of your hands’. This is not a request born of fear, but of trust. The believer knows that God’s love is eternal and that, despite human frailty, the Lord will continue to carry out his plan of salvation. The final message is therefore simple and profound: God always hears the cry of the lowly and the poor; his faithfulness never fails and his work in history continues. For this reason, the believer can praise him with gratitude and entrust themselves to him with complete confidence.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (11:33–36)

This passage concludes Paul’s reflection on the rift within the Jewish people following the emergence of the Christian community. For centuries, the Jews had been certain that they were the people chosen by God to bear witness to the one true God before the world, and his Covenant had been confirmed throughout history. The prophets had recalled this vocation, proclaiming that Israel would be a light to the nations and an instrument of salvation for all peoples. The emergence of Christianity triggered a profound crisis, and a group of Jews arose who recognised Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah. Paul, who was Jewish and became a Christian, experienced this rift first-hand. On the one hand, he adhered to Christ; on the other, he suffered at the sight of the majority of his people rejecting the Gospel. This gave rise to his question: has God perhaps rejected Israel? Has the Covenant been annulled and replaced by a new people? Paul finds an initial answer in the Scriptures: the Covenant, founded on God’s gratuitous love and not on the people’s abilities or merits, cannot be revoked because God is faithful to his promises and cannot deny himself. For this reason, Paul affirms that ‘God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable’ (Rom 11:29). The second reason for hope is the conviction that the relationship between God and Israel – described by the prophets as a spousal love – will be maintained even in times of suffering, which are transformed into opportunities for salvation. A portion of Israel—the so-called ‘faithful remnant’ spoken of by the prophets—has accepted Christ, and Paul is convinced that this process will lead to full salvation: he cannot explain how, but he is certain of it. Having reached this point, Paul offers no further theoretical explanations, but contemplates the mystery of God: ‘Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are  his judgements and his ways beyond our understanding!’  The final message, which draws on words from Isaiah, Job and the wisdom tradition,  is an invitation to Christians to cultivate an attitude of humble trust: God’s plans are beyond human understanding, but his faithfulness is certain. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (16:13–20)

We have reached a decisive moment in the Gospel of Matthew. At Caesarea, Peter  recognises Jesus as the Messiah without Jesus having just performed any extraordinary sign: Peter’s faith springs from an inner revelation. For this reason, Jesus says to him: “Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for neither flesh nor blood has revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” True faith does not arise from human intelligence, but is a gift from God. And this is what is new about Peter’s confession: it is not the use of individual titles, but their connection. Jesus asks who the ‘Son of Man’ is, and Peter replies that he is the ‘Son of God’. In this way, he recognises that the glorious figure foretold by Daniel is one and the same as the Messiah sent by God. However, Peter does not yet fully understand the mystery of Jesus. He knows that Jesus is the Messiah, but he has not yet realised that he is the Son of God made man. This understanding will mature after the Resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Immediately after Peter’s profession of faith, Jesus begins to proclaim openly his Passion, death and Resurrection. The expression ‘from that time on’ indicates that a fundamental milestone in the understanding of his identity has been reached. In Jesus’ time, the expression ‘Son of God’ was essentially equivalent to ‘Messiah’ or ‘King consecrated by God’. The disciples had already used this title after the miracle of walking on water, but at that time they had been struck above all by his power. During his trial before the high priest, Jesus once again combines these two titles, declaring that the Son of Man will come on the clouds of heaven and sit at the right hand of God. Yet it is precisely at that moment that his kingship is revealed, not through force, but through the love with which he entrusts himself into the hands of men. In Caesarea, following his profession of faith, Peter is entrusted with the mission of leading the Church: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church.” The rock does not refer to a personal quality of Peter—who would repeatedly demonstrate his frailties—but to the faith he received from the Father. The foundation of the Church is therefore faith in Jesus Christ. The Church is the new people of God, the “people of the saints of the Most High” foretold by Daniel, united to Christ as the body is to its head. And Peter receives the power of the keys. Jesus adds: “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” This is the so-called power of the keys, which recalls the symbol of the authority entrusted in the Old Testament to Eliakim. This does not mean that Peter and his successors are omnipotent, but that God undertakes to accompany their mission. The Church has the task of bringing people into communion with the Father and opening up access to the Kingdom for them. The final message is Jesus’ reassuring word: ‘I will build my Church’. It is not the Church that saves itself, nor is it people who build it by their own strength. It is Christ himself, the Risen One, who sustains and guides her. This is why Jesus can promise that the gates of hell shall not prevail against her. The strength of the Church does not depend on the perfection of her members, but on the faithfulness of Christ, the Son of the living God, who continues to build her throughout history.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [16 August 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (56:1, 6–7)

This passage, attributed to the so-called ‘Third Isaiah’, dates from after the return from the Babylonian exile, between the end of the 6th and the beginning of the 5th century BC. Upon their return to Jerusalem, the Jews found the city occupied by foreigners, some of whom had begun to take part in religious life. A conflict arose: some advocated the strict preservation of their own identity, whilst others favoured greater openness. The prophet, speaking in the name of God, declares that the sincerely devout foreigner must not be excluded; those who love the Lord and honour his covenant may enter the community. Foreigners are integrated if they observe the Sabbath, honour the covenant, practise justice and live according to the Torah. This marks a step towards accepting the idea that salvation is not reserved for Israel alone because, says the Lord, ‘my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.’ Amidst the tension between identity and openness (exclusion and inclusion), the ongoing challenge lies in safeguarding the demands of fidelity to the Covenant with God without closing oneself off from others; a delicate balance that concerns all religions. With Isaiah, a decisive step is taken in Israel towards a more inclusive faith, with foreigners integrated into the Jewish religion, who are called ‘proselytes’. 

Responsorial Psalm (66/67)

The Psalm reflects on God’s blessing, which is a wish for happiness, and on the universal mission of the people of Israel. We are in the midst of a great celebration in the Temple of Jerusalem, whilst the priests bless the people with words taken from the Book of Numbers: ‘May the Lord bless you and keep you; may he make his face shine upon you and grant you peace.’ An important truth emerges here: God does not begin to bless when the priest asks him to, but does so constantly; therefore, when we say ‘May God bless you’, the wish does not concern God, but our own readiness to receive his blessing. God has no other plan than the good of his creatures; therefore, to bless literally means to place his Name upon someone, and since the name denotes the person, to be blessed means to live under God’s protection, to enter into his presence and to allow oneself to be enlightened by his love. The blessing establishes a living relationship with God, to which the faithful always respond ‘Amen’, expressing their consent to receive this divine gift. The blessing is also for all peoples: ‘May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you’; therefore, the chosen and blessed people must become an instrument of God’s blessing for all humanity. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (11:13–15, 29–32)

Saint Paul moves from evangelising the Jews to the Gentiles. Before his conversion on the road to Damascus, Saint Paul divided humanity into two groups: the Jewish people and the Gentiles. After his encounter with the risen Christ, he realised that Israel’s mission was to bring the Messiah to all nations. For this reason, his plan was simple: to proclaim Jesus to the Jews and, through Israel, to bring the Gospel to all nations.  In Antioch of Pisidia, Paul and Barnabas began to preach in the synagogue and were listened to with interest. The following week, some Jews accepted the message; others rejected it with hostility; many Gentiles, however, showed interest. Faced with the rejection of the majority of the Jews, Paul declared: ‘Since you reject the Word of God, we turn to the Gentiles.’ This choice would be repeated in other cities during his missionary journeys. According to Paul, this openness towards the Gentiles arose from the fact that many Jews did not recognise Jesus as the Messiah. Paradoxically, it was precisely this rejection that facilitated the spread of the Gospel amongst the nations. Therefore, Christians who have come from a pagan background must not feel superior to the Jews, because their conversion is linked to the history and mission of Israel. Has God, then, abandoned Israel? This is the central question of Paul’s reflection. His answer is clear: no. God does not revoke his promises, for God’s gifts and calling are irrevocable. The Covenant God made with Israel remains valid for ever, and Paul reaches a very bold conclusion: God allows people to experience their own rejection and their own mistakes, and he knows how to transform even negative situations for the sake of salvation. The Gentiles have received God’s mercy, and Israel, too, will one day recognise that same mercy, for God’s ultimate plan concerns everyone. His Covenant with Israel remains valid, and his mercy is intended for both Jews and Gentiles. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (15:21–28)

The Gospel account of the Canaanite woman’s persistence comes immediately after a teaching by Jesus on ritual purity. In the Jewish world, purity does not mean the absence of sin, but rather the fitness to draw near to God, and the Pharisees attached great importance to the rules of ritual purity in order to be worthy to pray and enter the Temple. Jesus, on the other hand, says that purity is first and foremost a matter of the heart and of intention, and asserts that it is what comes out of the mouth and originates in the heart that defiles a person. For it is from the heart that evil thoughts come… but eating without washing one’s hands does not defile a person (Mt 15:18–20). Immediately after this controversy, Jesus goes into ‘unclean’ pagan territory because the rules of the Torah are not observed there. It is there that a Canaanite woman asks him to heal her daughter, but Jesus pays her no heed, so much so that the disciples intervene to send her away (Lk 11:5–8). However, as she continues to insist, Jesus replies: ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel’ (Mt 15:24). In the history of salvation, the first stage concerns Israel, as Jesus also points out to the apostles: do not go amongst the Gentiles and do not enter the towns of the Samaritans; rather, go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Mt 10:5–6).  And this is precisely what Saint Paul did. He turned first to the Jews, and after failing to reach the majority of them, he devoted himself to the Gentiles, as we read in this Sunday’s second reading. Here too, Jesus proclaims that salvation is now for everyone, Jews and Gentiles alike, and the only condition is faith – a trust like that of the Canaanite woman who persists in trusting him. Is faith not, in fact, precisely believing in Jesus, trusting him completely and entrusting oneself to him? Jesus does not ask the Canaanite woman to practise any aspect of the Jewish religion, but only for faith; and his attitude towards her serves as the model for welcoming the Gentiles. The Canaanite woman, ‘persistent’ in her request, becomes the model of faith for us and our communities.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

[15 August 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Revelation (11:19a; 12:1–6a, 10a)

For the early persecuted community, the entire Book of Revelation is a message of victory, rich in imagery: the Ark of the Covenant, three figures, the woman, the dragon and the infant. 

1. The Ark of the Covenant recalls the gilded wooden chest that accompanied the people during the Exodus to Sinai, a constant reminder to Israel of the Covenant with God. That ark had been lost during the Babylonian exile; it was said that Jeremiah had hidden it on Mount Nebo (2 Maccabees 2:8), and it was believed that it would reappear at the coming of the Messiah. Now John sees it reappear: (Rev 11:19) and for him this is the sign that the end of time has come and that God’s Covenant with humanity has been definitively fulfilled. 

2. The woman, Israel and the Messiah born of the Chosen People. “Then there appeared, still in heaven, ‘a woman clothed with the sun…’” (Rev 12:1–2).  In the Old Testament, the relationship between God and Israel is often described in terms of a wedding. Hosea speaks of God’s betrothal to his people. Isaiah develops the theme of the wedding to the point of presenting the coming of the Messiah as a birth; Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Second and Third Isaiah use the vocabulary of betrothal and marriage (Jer 2:2); (Isa 62:5). The Song of Songs, a dialogue of love in seven poems that never identifies the two lovers, is seen by the Jews as a dialogue between God and his people; for this reason, they read it on the Sabbath of Easter week, the great feast of God’s Covenant with Israel. Unfortunately, Israel was often an unfaithful bride (idolatrous: jealousy, adultery, but also reconciliation and forgiveness, for God remains faithful). Thus, the woman of Revelation represents the chosen people who give birth to the Messiah. A painful labour for Christ’s disciples facing persecution, to whom John says: ‘You are giving birth to the new humanity.’

3. The dragon: the forces of evil. The dragon lying in wait ‘before the woman to devour her newborn child’ (Rev 12:4) symbolises the battle waged by the forces of evil against God’s plan. For persecuted Christians, the word ‘dragon’ is not too strong, for it conveys the violence they face: the dragon is ‘enormous… as red as fire, with seven heads and ten horns, and on his heads seven diadems’. The heads and horns signify intelligence and strength; the diadem denotes imperial power with its very real capacity to cause harm. And indeed, he manages to drag down ‘a third of the stars of heaven and cast them to the earth’. However, it is only a third of the stars: therefore, merely a semblance of victory, and the rest of the passage will show that the power of evil is temporary. 

4. The child is the Risen Messiah. ‘She gave birth to a son, destined to rule all the nations with an iron sceptre’ (Rev 12:5). John identifies the Messiah and alludes to Psalm 2: ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you… You shall break them with a rod of iron’ (2:7–9). ‘Shepherd’ was also a classical term used to refer to the Messiah. This is followed by the image of the child being taken up ‘to God and his throne’: a symbol of Christ’s Resurrection. This was perfectly clear to the early Christians, who were accustomed to speaking of Him as the ‘Firstborn’, now seated at the right hand of God. Yet His people remain in the world—a difficult world, but one in which they are assured of God’s protection: this is the significance of the desert, another reference to the Exodus, in which God never ceased to care for His people. Believers may take heart: if the dragon has failed in heaven, he cannot succeed on earth. The conclusion is the victory that began with the Resurrection. To the early Christians who were giving birth to a new humanity amidst the pain of persecution, the Book of Revelation proclaims victory: ‘Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Christ’ (Rev 12:10).  Ever since the Messiah rose from the dead, victory has begun.

Responsorial Psalm (44/45) 

This psalm allows us to witness the wedding ceremony of the King of Jerusalem to a young foreign princess (v. 10) to seal the covenant between two peoples. Marriages have always marked alliances between states, but for Israel the Covenant is exclusive to the one God; therefore, any foreign girl who became queen had to embrace the king’s religion. Specifically, in this psalm, the princess from Tyre must renounce her idolatrous practices to be worthy of her new people and her king: ‘Listen, my daughter; look, and give ear: forget your own people and your father’s house’ (v. 11). Solomon married pagan foreign women; Ahab married Queen Jezebel, leading to the great confrontation between the prophet Elijah and the many priests and prophets of Baal. For those who can read between the lines, this advice to the princess of Tyre is in fact addressed to Israel. The royal bridegroom described in the psalm is none other than God himself, and this ‘daughter of a king, led in all her splendour to her bridegroom’ is the people of Israel admitted into the intimacy of their God. Through the relationship between God and his people, an allusion is then made to the marriage between God and all humanity.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:20–27)

Here, three figures are set side by side: Mary, Jesus of Nazareth and Adam. Mary, the model of faith, is proclaimed blessed because she believed in the word of God. In her life she experienced the sorrow foretold by Simeon, yet she never ceased to trust in God. Jesus follows the same path in total trust in the Father, and everything about him is summed up in these words: ‘Father, I have come to do your will’. His resurrection demonstrates that trust in God leads to true life, which passes through suffering and death. St Paul contrasts Adam and Christ: two opposing attitudes. Adam is the man who distrusts God and wishes to decide for himself; Christ, on the other hand, represents the man who entrusts himself completely to God. According to Paul, everyone behaves like Adam when they refuse to trust in God, and for this reason all die in Adam. Whereas those who follow Christ’s example enter into true life, founded on love and communion with God. The Assumption is God’s plan for faithful humanity: Mary experienced ageing and, having left her earthly life behind, entered fully into the life of God. The Eastern tradition speaks of her Dormition as her passing into a new form of existence with God: human beings are therefore not destined to remain forever in their earthly condition but are called to a transformation. Jesus, put to death by human hatred, was raised from the dead by God and, as the first of the risen, opens the way to eternal life for all humanity. Mary and Jesus show that the path to true life is not Adam’s self-sufficiency, but trust in God 

From the Gospel according to Luke (1:39–56)

The episode of the Visitation highlights the role of Mary, the new Ark of the Covenant and model of faith. When Elizabeth says, ‘How is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me?’, the evangelist deliberately alludes to David’s transfer of the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. There are numerous similarities: both the Ark and Mary journey through the hills of Judea; the Ark brings blessing to the house of Obed-Edom, whilst Mary brings joy to the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth; both remain for three months in the house that welcomes them; David dances before the Ark, whilst John the Baptist leaps for joy in his mother’s womb at the sight of Mary.

For Luke, none of this is coincidental. Mary is the new presence of God. The Ark was the sign of God’s presence amongst his people. By presenting Mary as the new Ark, Luke wishes to affirm that God is present in a unique way in the child she carries in her womb. Thus the mystery of the Incarnation is fulfilled. Mary becomes the living dwelling place of the divine presence. Elizabeth proclaims: ‘Blessed is she who has believed’; and Mary’s true greatness lies not merely in being the mother of Jesus, but in having trusted in God’s plan even without fully understanding it. In response to Elizabeth, Mary sings the Magnificat, and she does not invent new words, for it is composed of expressions drawn from the Psalms and other biblical prayers. Two lessons emerge from this. Humility: Mary does not place herself at the centre, but places herself within the tradition of faith of her people; a spirit of community: her prayer concerns not only her personal circumstances, but God’s work on behalf of the whole people. This is why Mary is presented as the new Ark of the Covenant, carrying within her God made man, whilst the Magnificat shows that every authentic vocation is not a personal privilege, but a call to serve others and the whole people of God.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time  (year A)   [9 August 2026]

First Reading from the First Book of Kings (19:9a, 11–13a)  

In the 9th century BC, in the Kingdom of Israel, Queen Jezebel, wife of King Ahab, introduced the worship of the god Baal in Samaria. Faced with the spread of idolatry, the prophet Elijah stands up with great zeal to defend the faith of his people. Convinced that God’s superiority must be demonstrated through signs of power, Elijah foretells a long drought and subsequently organises a contest on Mount Carmel between the priests of Baal and the God of Israel. Two altars are prepared, and it is decided that the true God will be the one who answers by sending fire from heaven. The priests of Baal pray in vain; when Elijah, however, calls upon the Lord, divine fire consumes the sacrifice. The people acknowledge the victory of the God of Israel. Nevertheless, Elijah, driven by his fervour, has the priests of Baal put to death – an act which God had not asked him to perform. When Jezebel learns of what has happened, she swears to take revenge and to kill Elijah. The prophet flees into the desert and, exhausted, comes to long for death. On his journey to Mount Horeb, he undergoes a profound inner crisis which becomes the starting point of his conversion. Elijah gradually realises that he had imagined God as a deity of strength and power, not unlike the very deities he had been fighting against. On Mount Horeb, where Moses too had once encountered God, the Lord reveals himself to him in an unexpected way. It is not in the storm, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the ‘still small voice’ The Hebrew text uses the expression: קוֹל דְּמָמָה דַקָּה
Qôl demāmāh daqqāh. Literally, this means: qôl = voice, sound; demāmāh = silence, deep stillness, calm; daqqāh = subtle, delicate, faint. A very faithful translation might be: ‘a voice of subtle silence’, or ‘the sound of a delicate silence’.

Elijah thus discovers that true divine power is not expressed through violence, clamour or coercion, but through gentleness, patience, mercy and discretion. The account represents a fundamental stage in biblical revelation: God teaches his prophet to move from a form of religiosity based on force to a faith founded on trust and gentleness. Elijah’s great discovery is that God does not conquer through fear, but through love.

Responsorial Psalm (84/85)  Psalm 84/85 was composed almost 50 years after the return of the people of Israel from the Babylonian exile (538 BC). When the exiles returned to their land full of enthusiasm and hope, they believed that a new life was beginning, that God had wiped the slate clean and that everything could start afresh. However, reality proved more difficult than expected. Breaches of the Covenant resurfaced; conversion was not automatic; and the returnees—often born in exile or having left as young people—encountered obstacles, misunderstandings and resistance, even in the reconstruction of the Temple. For this reason, the psalmist expresses conflicting feelings. On the one hand, he gives thanks to God for bringing his people back to the Promised Land and for forgiving their sins; on the other, seeing that the difficulties persist, he wonders whether divine wrath is not still present and pleads: ‘Show us your love, Lord, and grant us your salvation’. The central theme of the psalm is the dual meaning of the verb ‘to return’: the people have already physically returned to their land, but they must still make the most important return of all – that of the heart to God. True conversion is a gift from God, but it also requires human commitment, a willingness to listen to and follow his word. This is why the psalmist declares: ‘I will listen to what the Lord says’, recognising that peace springs from trusting obedience to God. The final part of the psalm is a magnificent hymn of hope. The poet looks forward to the day when God’s plan will be fully realised: ‘Love and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss’. This is not a naïve dream, but the certainty that God is guiding history towards a future of reconciliation, brotherhood and peace amongst humankind. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (9:1–5)

In chapters 9–11 of the Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul addresses an issue particularly close to his heart: if many Jews have not recognised Jesus Christ as the Messiah, does this perhaps mean that God has rejected his people? Paul is well aware of this problem because he himself, before his conversion on the road to Damascus, had been a strict Jew and even a persecutor of Christians. After his encounter with Christ, he realised that the Christian faith does not contradict the faith of Israel, but rather fulfils it. However, the majority of the Jewish people do not accept this conviction and, indeed, often oppose Paul’s preaching. This gives rise to his question: if Israel does not recognise the Messiah, is it perhaps excluded from the Covenant? And if God were to revoke his promises to Israel, how could Christians trust in his faithfulness? To answer this, Paul traces the entire course of sacred history. He recalls that Israel has received unique gifts: adoption as God’s children, the glory of his presence, the covenants, the Law, worship, the promises, the patriarchs and even the privilege that the Messiah should be born of his people. The whole of biblical history bears witness to God’s irrevocable commitment to Israel. Paul’s conclusion is clear: God has not abandoned the Jewish people. His promises are definitive, because God is faithful to himself. The Covenant has not been annulled. For Paul, the rejection of Jesus by many Jews remains a mystery, but it does not call into question the election of Israel. This final certainty is expressed in a decisive statement: ‘God remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself’ (2 Tim 2:13). The central message of the text is therefore that God’s faithfulness is stronger than human unfaithfulness. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew (14:22–33)

This Gospel episode takes place immediately after the feeding of the five thousand. After feeding the crowd, Jesus Christ instructs the disciples to leave and goes up the mountain alone to pray. On the one hand, his mission cannot stop at the success of the moment; on the other, Jesus wishes to avoid the risk of triumphalism and spectacle, a temptation he had already faced in the desert. Prayer enables him to remain in deep communion with the Father and to discern the path to follow. Meanwhile, the disciples’ boat is being tossed about by the waves of the Sea of Tiberias. During the night, they see a figure walking on the water and, terrified, think it is a ghost. But Jesus reassures them with words that run through the entire Gospel: ‘Take heart! It is I; do not be afraid.’ At that point, Peter, trusting in the Master’s voice, asks to be allowed to go to him by walking on the water. Jesus simply replies: ‘Come.’ Peter then accomplishes the impossible and walks on the water, but when he takes his eyes off Jesus and focuses on the force of the wind, he is overcome by fear and begins to sink. In this action, Peter represents every disciple: generous and sincere in his enthusiasm, yet fragile when put to the test. His fall does not stem from a lack of love, but from doubt and fear. Nevertheless, he makes the right choice: he cries out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus reaches out his hand, seizes him and brings him to safety, asking him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ The story teaches us that faith consists in keeping our gaze fixed on Christ even when difficulties seem to overwhelm us. Our frailties, doubts and even our failures are not the final word: what matters is that we continue to call upon his help. When Jesus steps into the boat, the wind dies down and the disciples come to understand more deeply who he is. They fall down before him and proclaim: ‘Truly, you are the Son of God.’ The central message of the passage is that the life of faith alternates between moments of strength and moments of weakness, as happened to Peter. But whenever a person is in danger of sinking, they can entrust themselves to Christ, and God’s hand is always ready to sustain them.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

The Transfiguration of the Lord (year A)  [6 August 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Daniel (7:9–10, 13–14) 

The text recounts a vision of the prophet Daniel, written during the persecution of the Jews by Antiochus IV Epiphanes in the 2nd century BC. Its purpose is to encourage and console the suffering people. Daniel first sees God, depicted as an ‘Ancient of Days’ seated on a throne of fire, surrounded by millions of servants. It is an image of justice and victory: God is about to judge the persecutors and bring justice to the faithful. Next, the ‘Son of Man’ appears; he is brought before God on the clouds of heaven and receives power, glory and an eternal kingdom. It resembles a scene of a messianic coronation.

Who is the Son of Man? The explanation given in the text of Daniel itself is surprising: the Son of Man does not initially represent a single person, but the ‘people of the saints of the Most High’, that is, Israel faithful to God, especially that small group which remains faithful during persecution. The message is therefore clear: today you are oppressed, but God will grant you victory and his Kingdom will be eternal. After their deliverance from persecution, many Jews continued to interpret this prophecy as referring to the future. Some began to await not an individual Messiah, but a collective Messiah: the faithful people of Israel, called precisely the ‘Son of Man’. And here is the new insight brought by Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth takes up the title ‘Son of Man’, but gives it a deeper meaning: it does not simply refer to ‘a man’, but to the whole of humanity; Jesus applies it to himself more than eighty times in the Gospels; he unites two aspects that were separate in Daniel: glory and suffering. For Jesus, the Son of Man is not merely the glorious King who receives the Kingdom, but also the one who suffers, is rejected and dies before entering into glory. After the Resurrection, the disciples realise that Jesus is both man and God. He is the head of a new humanity, and all those united to him form one body. Therefore, Daniel’s prophecy is fully fulfilled in Christ and in his people: believers are called to share in his kingship and his glory.

This, then, is the central message: God created humanity to share in his dignity and his Kingdom. Suffering and persecution do not have the final say: the ultimate destiny of the faithful is to share in God’s victory and his eternal kingdom.

Responsorial Psalm (96/97) 

A constant struggle against idolatry: this could be the commentary on Psalm 96/97 (‘The Lord reigns’) to highlight a fundamental theme of the Bible: the constant struggle against idolatry and the affirmation that there is only one God.

When the psalm proclaims: ‘The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice’, it affirms that God is the one true sovereign of the universe. The expressions: ‘You reign above all gods; let all gods bow down before him’, do not mean that there are other inferior gods, but that all false deities and idols are nothing in the face of the one God of Israel.

In the Jewish faith, the fundamental principle is: ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is the one and only Lord.’ Israel always lived in close contact with polytheistic peoples and was often tempted to adopt their cults. For this reason, the prophets denounced the people’s unfaithfulness, comparing it to that of a wife who betrays her husband. However, alongside their rebuke, they always proclaimed God’s forgiveness and mercy. The text recalls that the first chapter of the Book of Genesis was written in contrast to the religious beliefs of Babylon. Whilst Babylonian myths spoke of many gods fighting amongst themselves and of humanity created to be slaves, the Bible affirms that: there is only one God;  creation is good; man and woman are created in the image of God; human beings are called to rule over creation and not to be its slaves. Even the sun and the moon are not named, to prevent them from being worshipped as deities: they are simply ‘luminaries’ in the service of life. God, Lord of the universe, and the psalm describes God’s manifestation with majestic imagery: fire, lightning, clouds, earthquakes, mountains melting like wax. These images recall Moses’ theophany on Mount Sinai and serve to demonstrate divine power and majesty. A universal message of joy emerges, and the expression ‘The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice’

means that God’s kingdom concerns not only Israel, but all humanity.

Indeed, the Bible always combines two ideas: the election of Israel and the salvation intended for all peoples. God’s plan is universal and oriented towards joy, justice and peace. Finally, the psalm invites us to believe that God guides history towards a future of peace and happiness for all. Even when the world seems dominated by wars, violence and injustice, the believer is called to maintain hope and to work together so that God’s plan may be realised. The commentary’s final observation is very practical: peace and joy are possible, but we must truly desire them. In other words, it is not enough simply to wait for God to intervene: we must also commit ourselves personally to building a more just and fraternal world.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (1:16–19)

The central theme of this passage could be summarised as follows: ‘Remain steadfast in the faith and beware of false prophets’, which may be regarded as Peter’s spiritual testament. The Second Letter of Peter resembles a farewell address: as he is about to depart, the one who is leaving recalls the fundamental truths that have inspired him and offers guidance for the future to those who have gathered around his testimony.  The verses presented here serve as an introduction to the entire letter and summarise its main themes: 1) remain steadfast in your faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God; 2) beware of false prophets. All this without losing sight of the horizon of faith: the hope of Christ’s return. Above all: remain steadfast in your faith in Jesus, the Son of God.  At the time of Jesus’ birth, it would never have occurred to anyone that God could have a Son; the one God was solitary. When John the Baptist heard the voice from heaven designating Jesus as the Son, he certainly interpreted it as ‘Messiah’; for, traditionally, the king of Israel received the title ‘Son of God’ on the day of his coronation, with the words ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you’ (Ps 2:7). For Jewish believers, to call oneself the Son of God was a lie, a claim to authority, or even blasphemy. It was one of the reasons for Jesus’ condemnation (Mark 14:64). Gradually, much later, as they meditated on the mystery of Christ in the light of the Resurrection, the apostles discovered this unexpected truth: Jesus is truly the Son of God; he is God. The event of the Transfiguration now appears in full light: Christ ‘received honour and glory from God the Father; a voice came to him from the majestic glory: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”’  

Now, throughout the Old Testament, glory is the prerogative of God: for example, ‘Give to the Lord the glory due to his name’ (Ps 28/29:2) . Yet, according to Matthew and Mark, the voice from heaven at the Transfiguration said nothing different from what it said at the Baptism; what changes is precisely the glory that envelops Jesus at the Transfiguration: he is alone on the mountain, surrounded only by the two greatest figures of the Old Testament; at the Baptism he was immersed in the crowd, mingled with the people of sinners. It is the same Jesus whom the disciples have come to know little by little—the Son of Man, certainly, but also the Son of God. Moreover, this faith does not betray their previous faith. For the disciples, this renewed faith is not a betrayal of their past faith: none of them thinks they have changed religion by recognising in Jesus the Messiah so long awaited by his people. On the contrary, by re-reading the Scriptures, they discover that Jesus is precisely the one whom they foretold.  

Hence Peter’s words: ‘Thus we have confirmation of the prophetic word’, and his advice to the readers: ‘You would do well to pay close attention to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place.’ A beautiful image: in the darkness of humanity awaiting its Saviour, the light of the prophets is already shining. From now on, Christians must always remember this Word that foretold Jesus. Another important point: beware of false prophets. If Peter speaks in this way, it is because his fear was not unfounded, and many passages in the New Testament express the same concern. For example, 

we read in the Gospel of Matthew: ‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. ‘You will recognise them by their fruits’ (7:15–16).  The same issue recurs in John’s letters: ‘Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world’ (1 John 4:1).  And Paul also speaks of this: “The Spirit plainly states that in the last days some will fall away from the faith, following deceiving spirits and the teachings of demons” (1 Tim 4:1); “The time will come when people will no longer endure sound teaching, but, having an itch to hear something, they will gather around themselves a multitude of teachers… and turn to myths” (2 Tim 4:3–4).  Faced with these false prophets stand the authentic witnesses, those who have known Jesus of Nazareth and who alone have the right to speak. This concern for the authenticity of witness is a constant theme among the first apostles, and in Peter in particular. Hence the conditions for choosing Judas’s replacement (cf. Acts 1:21–22). Hence, too, Peter’s insistence on his presence at the Transfiguration: “We were eyewitnesses of his majesty… We ourselves heard this voice coming from heaven whilst we were with him on the holy mountain”.  It is because they were witnesses to the coming of the Son of God amongst men that his apostles can now, with full confidence, await his coming at the end of time ‘until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts’ (2 Peter 1:19).

From the Gospel according to Matthew (17:1–9)

Two essential points emerge from this text: the choice of witnesses and the Mount of the Transfiguration: Jesus took Peter, James and his brother John with him: once again we are faced with the mystery of God’s choices. Shortly before, at Caesarea, Jesus had said to Peter: ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it’ (Mt 16:18). But Peter, entrusted with this crucial mission, is not alone with Jesus: he is accompanied by the two brothers, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. ‘And he led them aside to a high mountain’: on a high mountain, Moses had received the revelation of the God of the Covenant and had been given the tablets of the Law—that law which was to gradually teach the people of the Covenant to live in the love of God and of their brothers and sisters. On that same mountain, Elijah had received the revelation of the God of tenderness in the gentle breeze… Moses and Elijah, the two pillars of the Old Testament. On the high mountain of the Transfiguration, Peter, James and John—the pillars of the Church—receive the revelation of the God of tenderness incarnate in Jesus: ‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ And this revelation is given to strengthen their faith before the storm of the Passion. Peter would later write: ‘We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty’ (2 Peter 1:16–18).  ‘Let us make three tents’: this remark by Peter suggests that the episode of the Transfiguration took place during the Feast of Tabernacles, or at least within the atmosphere of the feast celebrated in remembrance of the journey through the desert during the Exodus and of the Covenant made with God. During the feast, many psalms celebrated the messianic promises and implored God to hasten his coming. On the Mount of the Transfiguration, the three apostles suddenly find themselves faced with this revelation of the mystery of Jesus: it is hardly surprising that they are seized by the fear that grips every person in the presence of the holy God. Nor is it surprising that Jesus lifts their spirits and reassures them: the Old Testament had already revealed to the people of the Covenant that the Most Holy God is the God who is very close to humankind, and that there is no cause for fear. But this revelation of the mystery of the Messiah, in all its aspects, is not yet within everyone’s grasp; Jesus commands them not to tell anyone for the time being, until the Son of Man has risen from the dead. By uttering these words, Jesus confirms the revelation the three disciples have just received: he is truly the Messiah whom the prophet Daniel saw in the likeness of a man, coming on the clouds of heaven (cf. Dan 7:13–14). It should be remembered that Daniel himself presents the Son of Man not as a solitary individual, but as a people, whom he calls the people of the saints of the Most High. The fulfilment is even more beautiful than the promise: in Jesus, the God-Man, it is the whole of humanity that will receive this eternal kingship and be eternally transfigured. But Jesus was right to say: ‘Tell no one anything before the Resurrection…’ Only after Jesus’ resurrection will the apostles be able to bear witness to it.

Note: The Greek text begins with ‘Six days later’: this is understood to mean ‘six days after Yom Kippur’, the Day of Atonement. It invites us to imagine a connection with the Feast of Tabernacles, hence Peter’s suggestion: ‘Let us make three tents here.’ Furthermore, why are Moses and Elijah present? The very same two who received the revelation of the Father on Mount Sinai now receive the revelation of the Son here. The mosaic in the Basilica of the Transfiguration at St Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai confirms this interpretation: Moses is depicted barefoot, his sandals untied beside him, as he was before the burning bush (cf. Ex 3).

+Giovanni D’Ercole