Who Am  I to you, and the Keys to the open community

(Mt 16:13–23)

    More than halfway through his public life, Jesus has not yet offered any set formulas, but poses a challenging question – one that demands far more of us than the usual legalistic expressions.

Broadly speaking, the crowd may have likened him to eminent figures such as John the Baptist (who proved himself to be a stranger to courtly flattery) or Elijah (for his denunciation of idols) or Jeremiah (the opponent of the buying and selling of blessings).

But He did not come – like the ancient prophets – to improve the situation or patch up devotional practices, nor to purify the Temple, but rather to replace it!

Traditional imagery depicts Christ in many ways (to atheists, a philanthropist), the most widespread of which is still that of an ancient Lord, the guarantor of conventional behaviour.

He, on the other hand – to make us reflect – takes his disciples to a building site (in northern Palestine, Caesarea Philippi was under construction), far from the self-serving rhetoric of the ‘holy’ City.

The common mindset judged the success of life – and the truth of a religion – on the basis of success, dominance, wealth and security in general.

The question Jesus poses to his disciples reveals a novelty that overturns the entire system: the Call is addressed to every single person.

It is a proposal that pushes boundaries, much like the symbolic geographical location of the capital of Philip’s kingdom (one of the three sons and heirs of Herod the Great): in Palestine, the point furthest from the centre of conformist religiosity.

The Face of the ‘Son of Man’ can only be recognised by placing oneself as far as possible from political schemes and the established order – otherwise we too would be unable to perceive his personal light.

In the community described in Matthew, there was indeed an experience of an ever-increasing participation of Gentiles, who had previously felt excluded (and were gradually becoming integrated).

In our way of thinking, house keys serve to lock and bolt the front door, to keep out those with ill intent. In the Semitic mindset, however, they were rather a symbol of opening the door.

In Perugino’s famous masterpiece on the north wall of the Sistine Chapel, Jesus hands the head of the Church two keys: the golden key to Paradise and the silver key to Purgatory.

But the meaning of the passage is not about the afterlife – indeed, it is not even institutional in nature (as the sumptuous architecture of the triumphal arches and the temple in the background of the fresco might suggest).

In Hebrew, the word ‘key’ is derived from the verb ‘to open’!

The primary missionary task of community leaders is to keep the Kingdom of Heaven wide open – that is, to ensure a welcoming Church!

Peter must not embody the archetype of the arrogant monarch, an image of authority (acting as a substitute for the emperor).

Simon must take primary responsibility for welcoming those who are outside.

This seems strange by the standards of any ancient tradition, where it was assumed that God feared becoming defiled through contact with the world.

The Father is the One who dares the most.

Faith is not a safety net (as if it were merely ‘doctrinal belief’) but a loving relationship that does not cloud the mind and enables us to embrace the enriching flow of life.

Creative Providence – all-encompassing and boundless, and today particularly disruptive to every habitual way of life – is the true expression and authentic Revelation of the Mystery.

This is why Jesus strictly imposes total messianic silence [v.20] upon the lips and the traditional mindset of the Apostles.

Peter and the disciples wanted to return to the familiar idea of ‘the’ Messiah [cf. Greek text] awaited by all.

A script that is far too ordinary, incapable of renewing us.

But who do you say that I am? Peter’s Faith

Distancing oneself from what one hopes for

Jesus leads his followers away from the realm of the ideology of power and from the sacred centre of the official religious institution – Judea.

The Lord wants his closest followers to distance themselves from limitations and preconceptions.

The relative success achieved by the Master in Galilee had, in fact, rekindled the apostles’ hopes of (one-sided) glory.

The region of Caesarea Philippi, in the far north of Palestine, was enchanting; renowned for its fertility and lush pastures. An area famous for the beauty of its surroundings and the abundance of its flocks and herds.

Even the disciples were captivated by the landscape and the comfortable lifestyle of the region’s inhabitants; not to mention the magnificence of the palaces.

The reference to the setting alludes to the comforts generally offered by pagan religion; excessive prosperity that enchanted the Twelve.

Christ asks the apostles – in effect – what the people expected of Him. In this way, He wants them to realise the harmful effects of their own preaching.

A ‘proclamation’ that readily conflated material and spiritual blessings.

Whilst the gods demonstrate their ability to shower their devotees with riches – and a lavish court life that (precisely) captivated everyone – what does Christ offer?

The Master realises that the disciples were still heavily influenced by the propaganda of the political and religious authorities [vv. 6, 11], which promised prosperity [vv. 5–12; cf. Mt 15:32–38].

And Jesus instructs them once more, so that at least his emissaries might overcome the blindness and the crisis brought about by his Cross (v. 21), and by the commitment required in the spirit of self-giving.

He is not merely a follower of the Baptist’s uncompromising stance, never inclined to compromise with the courts or opulence; nor is he one of the many restorers of the Law of Moses, with the zeal of Elijah.

Nor did he wish merely to purify religion of spurious elements, but rather to take the place of the Temple [Mt 21:12–17, 18–19, 42; 23:2, 37–39; 24:30] – the place of encounter between the Father and his children.

On this issue, at that time, the rifts were particularly acute, not only with regard to paganism, but also in the conflicts between Jews who had converted to the Lord and those who observed the tradition.

Indeed, the sacred texts of late Judaism spoke of great figures who had left their mark on the history of Israel and were expected to reappear to usher in the messianic age.

Even within the persecuted communities of Galilee and Syria, Matthew notes a lack of understanding and the great difficulty in embracing the new proposal – one which offered no guarantee of success or recognition, nor any immediate rewards.

(From the very first generations, it was realised that Faith does not easily align with our most basic human impulses: indeed, it is disconcerting, given our obvious perspectives and instincts).

Thus the Master contradicts Peter himself [vv. 20, 23], whose view remained tied to the conformist and populist idea of ‘the’ [vv. 16, 20: ‘that’] expected Messiah.

In short, the leader of the apostles – so weak in the Faith – must stop pointing out to Christ which path to take ‘behind’ him [v. 23], leading him astray!

Simon must start afresh as a disciple; he must stop charting out recognised and opportunistic paths for everyone, hijacking God in God’s own name.

The Lord is the One who dares the most.

A special note on the subject of the Name:

Whilst in our culture it is often merely a label, amongst Eastern peoples the name is one and the same as the person, and designates them in a special way.

As can be seen, for example, in the ‘second’ commandment, the power of the Name carries great weight: it is a matter of knowing the (divine) Subject in essence and in the meaning of action; almost a taking hold of His power.

Even in our own tradition of prayer, spirituality and mysticism, the proper Name (e.g. Jesus) has often been regarded as almost an auditory icon of the person, embodying their virtues; evocative of their presence and power.

In ancient cultures, uttering a name meant being able to grasp the seed, the meaningful and all-encompassing core of the figure in question.

Not infrequently, even in our own way of thinking, it has been intended to express an omen, a mandate, a wish, a blessing, a vocation, a destiny, a task, a calling, a mission [nomen (est) omen].

But this is where the difference between a sacred mindset and Faith becomes apparent. In religions, the proper name that the master or founder bestows upon the disciple is a sort of signpost: anyone lacking the insight, fortune, strength or courage to fulfil it would diminish in dignity.

Christ, on the other hand, through his titles, calls us to follow a path – certainly – but one that is deeply commensurate with our essence.

He urges us to set out on a journey – not according to set models – because first He leads the person back into themselves. So that we may all commit ourselves deeply and to the full extent that is required.

First step: to encounter ourselves in our entirety; in our various facets, even the surprising, unexpressed or unknown ones – generally, traits that are unimaginable according to rules and classifications.

Even our eccentric, ambiguous, hidden or even personally rejected ways of being: along the Way, these will reveal the best sides of ourselves.

Only on this multifaceted path do we find the way to an adventure rich in meaning; not mechanical, nor repetitive – but rather like life itself: always new and authentic.

Not starting from superficial appearances or calculated pretences: there is an Author’s signature that precedes us, in the building up of ourselves and of the world.

Passing through the various building sites in the city of Philip, Jesus instead chose to compare Simon to the inert, piled-up materials (even in a rather haphazard manner) that lay before him.

That situation struck at the very root of the apostles’ expectations!

The disciples had not yet made room within themselves for the Mystery, for the idea of a secret salvation that bursts forth with its own innate energy; one that transcends ordinary dreams.

‘Cefa’ is in fact derived from the Aramaic ‘Kefas’: a building stone; something hard: in practical terms, a stubborn man like so many others; nothing special, quite the contrary. Jesus gives Simon a derogatory nickname!

In fact, the Greek term ‘petros’ [v.18] is not a proper name: it refers to a stone (picked up from the ground) which can indeed be useful for building – provided, of course, it is shaped to fit. And which not only supports, but is supported; which not only brings together, but is brought together.

Note: the Greek term ‘petra’ [v.18] is not the feminine form of ‘petros’: it means ‘rock’, and refers to the Person of Christ, our sole security (together with faith in Him).

A name that unpredictably transforms an entire life. For it is only the inner Friend who draws from our [even flawed] baggage the unexpected that wells up.

Each of us is chiselled by the Lord according to the name Peter, in the sense of a unique piece, an individual and special element.

Placed in a singular way yet within a great mosaic: that of the history of salvation, where each of us is simultaneously ourselves and in a constant state of regeneration.

The sole sense of belonging shared by the many building stones (all living): the conviviality of differences, the communion of disparate fraternal members within the ministerial Church.

None of them forever, but everywhere (ceaselessly) pulsating nuclei of a humble institution, entirely gathered from the earth… Freed without cost.

Dear Young People,

In this celebration of the Eucharist we have reached the high point of this World Youth Day. Seeing you here, gathered in such great numbers from all parts of the world, fills my heart with joy. I think of the special love with which Jesus is looking upon you. Yes, the Lord loves you and calls you his friends (cf. Jn 15:15). He goes out to meet you and he wants to accompany you on your journey, to open the door to a life of fulfilment and to give you a share in his own closeness to the Father. For our part, we have come to know the immensity of his love and we want to respond generously to his love by sharing with others the joy we have received. Certainly, there are many people today who feel attracted by the figure of Christ and want to know him better. They realize that he is the answer to so many of our deepest concerns. But who is he really? How can someone who lived on this earth so long ago have anything in common with me today?

The Gospel we have just heard (cf. Mt 16:13-20) suggests two different ways of knowing Christ. The first is an impersonal knowledge, one based on current opinion. When Jesus asks: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”, the disciples answer: “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets”. In other words, Christ is seen as yet another religious figure, like those who came before him. Then Jesus turns to the disciples and asks them: “But who do you say that I am?” Peter responds with what is the first confession of faith: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God”. Faith is more than just empirical or historical facts; it is an ability to grasp the mystery of Christ’s person in all its depth.

Yet faith is not the result of human effort, of human reasoning, but rather a gift of God: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven”. Faith starts with God, who opens his heart to us and invites us to share in his own divine life. Faith does not simply provide information about who Christ is; rather, it entails a personal relationship with Christ, a surrender of our whole person, with all our understanding, will and feelings, to God’s self-revelation. So Jesus’ question: “But who do you say that I am?”, is ultimately a challenge to the disciples to make a personal decision in his regard. Faith in Christ and discipleship are strictly interconnected.

And, since faith involves following the Master, it must become constantly stronger, deeper and more mature, to the extent that it leads to a closer and more intense relationship with Jesus. Peter and the other disciples also had to grow in this way, until their encounter with the Risen Lord opened their eyes to the fullness of faith.

Dear young people, today Christ is asking you the same question which he asked the Apostles: “Who do you say that I am?” Respond to him with generosity and courage, as befits young hearts like your own. Say to him: “Jesus, I know that you are the Son of God, who have given your life for me. I want to follow you faithfully and to be led by your word. You know me and you love me. I place my trust in you and I put my whole life into your hands. I want you to be the power that strengthens me and the joy which never leaves me”.

Jesus’ responds to Peter’s confession by speaking of the Church: “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church”. What do these words mean? Jesus builds the Church on the rock of the faith of Peter, who confesses that Christ is God.

The Church, then, is not simply a human institution, like any other. Rather, she is closely joined to God. Christ himself speaks of her as “his” Church. Christ cannot be separated from the Church any more than the head can be separated from the body (cf. 1 Cor 12:12). The Church does not draw her life from herself, but from the Lord.

Dear young friends, as the Successor of Peter, let me urge you to strengthen this faith which has been handed down to us from the time of the Apostles. Make Christ, the Son of God, the centre of your life. But let me also remind you that following Jesus in faith means walking at his side in the communion of the Church. We cannot follow Jesus on our own. Anyone who would be tempted to do so “on his own”, or to approach the life of faith with that kind of individualism so prevalent today, will risk never truly encountering Jesus, or will end up following a counterfeit Jesus.

Having faith means drawing support from the faith of your brothers and sisters, even as your own faith serves as a support for the faith of others. I ask you, dear friends, to love the Church which brought you to birth in the faith, which helped you to grow in the knowledge of Christ and which led you to discover the beauty of his love. Growing in friendship with Christ necessarily means recognizing the importance of joyful participation in the life of your parishes, communities and movements, as well as the celebration of Sunday Mass, frequent reception of the sacrament of Reconciliation, and the cultivation of personal prayer and meditation on God’s word.

Friendship with Jesus will also lead you to bear witness to the faith wherever you are, even when it meets with rejection or indifference. We cannot encounter Christ and not want to make him known to others. So do not keep Christ to yourselves! Share with others the joy of your faith. The world needs the witness of your faith, it surely needs God. I think that the presence here of so many young people, coming from all over the world, is a wonderful proof of the fruitfulness of Christ’s command to the Church: “Go into all the world and proclaim the Gospel to the whole creation” (Mk 16:15). You too have been given the extraordinary task of being disciples and missionaries of Christ in other lands and countries filled with young people who are looking for something greater and, because their heart tells them that more authentic values do exist, they do not let themselves be seduced by the empty promises of a lifestyle which has no room for God.

Dear young people, I pray for you with heartfelt affection. I commend all of you to the Virgin Mary and I ask her to accompany you always by her maternal intercession and to teach you how to remain faithful to God’s word. I ask you to pray for the Pope, so that, as the Successor of Peter, he may always confirm his brothers and sisters in the faith. May all of us in the Church, pastors and faithful alike, draw closer to the Lord each day. May we grow in holiness of life and be effective witnesses to the truth that Jesus Christ is indeed the Son of God, the Saviour of all mankind and the living source of our hope. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Madrid, 21 August 2011]

1. "Who do you say that I am?" (Mt 16: 15).

Jesus asks the disciples this question about his identity while he is with them in upper Galilee. It often happened that they would ask Jesus questions; now it is he who questions them. His is a precise question that awaits an answer. Simon Peter speaks for them all:  "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16: 16).

The answer is extraordinarily clear. The Church's faith is perfectly reflected in it. We are reflected in it too. The Bishop of Rome, his unworthy successor by divine will, is particularly reflected in Peter's words. Around him and with him you are reflected in these words, dear Metropolitan Archbishops, who have come here from many parts of the world to receive the pallium on the Solemnity of Sts Peter and Paul.

I offer my cordial greetings to each of you, a greeting which I gladly extend to those who have accompanied you to Rome and to your communities who are spiritually united with us on this solemn occasion.

2. "You are the Christ!". Jesus replies to Peter's confession:  "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16: 17).

Blessed are you, Peter! Blessed because you could not have humanly recognized this truth, which is central to the Church's faith, except by God's action. "No one", Jesus said, "knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and any one to whom the Son chooses to reveal him" (Mt 11: 27).

We are reflecting on this extraordinarily rich Gospel passage:  the incarnate Word had revealed the Father to his disciples; now is the moment when the Father himself reveals his only Only-begotten Son to them. Peter receives inner enlightenment and courageously proclaims:  "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!".

These words on Peter's lips come from the depths of God's mystery. They reveal the intimate truth, the very life of God. And Peter, under the action of the divine Spirit, becomes a witness and confessor of this superhuman truth. His profession of faith thus forms the firm basis of the Church's faith:  "On this rock I will build my Church" (Mt 16: 18). The Church of Christ is built on Peter's faith and fidelity.

[Pope John Paul II, homily, 29 June 2000]

This Sunday’s Gospel reading (cf. Mt 16:13-20) presents the moment in which Peter professes his faith in Jesus as Messiah and Son of God. This Apostle’s confession is provoked by Jesus himself, who wishes to lead his disciples to take the decisive step in their relationship with him. Indeed, Jesus’ entire journey with those who follow him, especially with the Twelve, is a journey of educating their faith. First of all, he asks: “Who do men say that the Son of man is?” (v. 13). The Apostles liked to talk about people, as we all do. We like to gossip. Speaking about others is not so demanding; this is why we like it; even ‘flaying’ others. In this case the perspective of faith rather than gossip is already required, and so he asks, ‘What do the people say that I am?’. And the disciples seem to compete in reporting the different opinions, which perhaps, to a large extent, they themselves shared. They too shared them. In essence, Jesus of Nazareth was considered a prophet (v. 14).

With the second question, Jesus touches them to the core: “But who do you say that I am?” (v. 15). At this point, we seem to perceive a moment of silence, as each one of those present is called to put themselves on the line, manifesting the reason why they follow Jesus; therefore a certain hesitation is more than legitimate. Even if I were to ask you now, ‘For you, who is Jesus?’, there would be a little hesitation. Simon takes them off the hook by declaring forthrightly, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (v. 16). This answer, so complete and luminous, does not come from an impulse of his own, however generous — Peter was generous — but rather it is the fruit of a particular grace of the heavenly Father. Indeed, Jesus himself says to him: “flesh and blood has not revealed this to you” — that is, culture, what you have studied, no, this has not revealed it to you. It was revealed to you by “my Father who is in heaven” (v. 17). To confess Jesus is a grace of the Father. To say that Jesus is the Son of the living God, that he is the Redeemer, is a grace that we must ask for: “Father, give me the grace to confess Jesus”. 

At the same time, the Lord acknowledges Simon’s prompt response to the inspiration of grace and therefore adds, in a solemn tone, “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it” (v. 18). With this affirmation, Jesus makes Simon understand the meaning of the new name He has given him, ‘Peter’: the faith he has just shown is the unshakeable ‘rock’ on which the Son of God wishes to build his Church, that is, the Community. And the Church goes forward always on the basis of Peter’s faith, that faith that Jesus recognizes [in Peter] and which makes him the head of the Church.

Today, we hear Jesus’ question directed to each one of us: ‘And you, who do you say I am?’. To each one of us. And each one of us must give not a theoretical answer, but one that involves faith, that is, life, because faith is life! ‘For me you are …’ and then to confess Jesus. An answer that demands from us too, as from the first disciples, inward listening to the voice of the Father and consonance with what the Church, gathered around Peter, continues to proclaim. It is a matter of understanding who Christ is for us: whether he is the centre of our life, whether he is the goal of our commitment in the Church, of our commitment in society. Who is Jesus Christ for me? Who is Jesus Christ for you, for you, for you …? An answer that we should give every day.

But beware: it is indispensable and praiseworthy that the pastoral care of our communities be open to the many forms of poverty and plights that are everywhere. Charity is always the high road of the journey of faith, of the perfection of faith. But it is necessary that works of solidarity, the works of charity that we carry out, not divert us from contact with the Lord Jesus. Christian charity is not simple philanthropy but, on the one hand, it is looking at others through the very eyes of Jesus and, on the other hand, it is seeing Jesus in the face of the poor. This is the true path of Christian charity, with Jesus at the centre, always. May Mary Most Holy, blessed because she believed, be our guide and model on the path of faith in Christ, and make us aware that trust in him gives full meaning to our charity and to all our existence.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 23 August 2020]

Being present to oneself: do not replace love with flakes and bows

(Mt 23:1-12)

New Relationship between God and man could not be contained within the detailed rules of the First Covenant and its heavy customs.

At the time of Jesus, such sick obsessions of snooty verticism dominated, therefore only epidermal; incapable of providing breath, freedom, propulsive motivation.

The pyramidal conception of the world and the exterior idea of ​​the plot of the spiritual life do not correspond to Revelation.

Our reality is interwoven with opposing states, which innervate and complete; even making move forward. Sometime turning into a torrent in flood.

Rejection, abandonment, failure, limitations, illness, and the contempt of others – even a crisis – can bring us back to the dormant energies of life and give birth to a new Person.

How to contact our new ways of being? What precautions should be taken to enter a regeneration dynamism that helps to develop a lively climate - and where to start?

Jesus proposes Faith: a founding Relationship, that is, a new way of placing oneself before the Father and the world... with a trusting, spousal and creative attitude; in the initiative of another point of view.

Multifaceted love, Eros coming to us in a palpable dialogue - not without inner struggles.

This in the time of a path (singular, not at all traced or external). Even on the spur of the moment, annoying, because it goes against the tide.

The religious authorities, on the other hand, sought their security in the rigorous and conspicuous observance of the written and oral Law. 

Without risk or mind-boggling customizations.

Faced with such an accommodating mentality, free from vertigo, the young Master insists on the practice of Friendship [much stronger than willpower] which relativizes the obligations.

He thus gives its true sense to the profound Tradition, rediscovering the authentic meaning of the Torah and the rules of behavior.

After all, it was precisely the spiritual leaders of the official religion who were the first to disbelieve what they preached to others... or felt exempt from it, because they were used to thinking of themselves as elective, recognised, selected, chosen models - almost cast from above.

Exaggerated spirit of control is a false attitude in itself – it causes excessive strain and is deaf to the inner core.

But it is also detrimental to the building of a family atmosphere, or a culture of encounter; to the synodal journey, even... and so on.

On the other hand, by insisting on the attitude [which is indeed infallible] of mutual service, there will be no time left to be caught up in vanity, disputes over precedence, superficial discussions, friction, or even the gap between saying and doing.

Where can the theatre of indifference, which depresses rather than invigorates God's people, start again?

From the everlasting scribes and pharisees (v.2). Self-proclaimed superiors, with limited and reductive criteria of judgement.

Well, according to the Gospels, those who take on ecclesiastical leadership roles are not entitled to any “ribbon”: they are simply «deacons» (v. 11) of their sisters and brothers.

They have no positions, but tasks. They have no titles, but duties. They have no rank; rather, they have a mission and many obligations.

To internalize and live the message:

Do you like ribbons? What does your soul say about peacocks?

[Saturday 20th wk. in O.T.  August 22, 2026]

Rabbi, Father and teachers? Be present to yourselves, not at the mercy of approval

(Mt 23:1-12)

The New Relationship between God and man could not be contained within the meticulous rules of the First Covenant and its heavy customs.

At the time of Jesus, such obsessions dominated, with their sickening arrogance, and were therefore only superficial, incapable of giving breath, freedom, or motivating force.

The pyramidal conception of the world and the external idea of the fabric of spiritual life never correspond to Revelation, nor to the simple criteria of natural wisdom.

In fact, the Tao Te Ching (iv) says: 'The Tao mitigates its splendour, makes itself like its dust. What depth! It seems to have always existed'.

Master Wang Pi comments: '[That which has no origin], by blunting its points, does not hurt creatures; by unravelling its knots, it does not tire them; by mitigating its light, it does not debase their bodies; by making itself like its dust, it does not disturb their authenticity'.

Master Ho-shang Kung adds: 'Even though you have extraordinary splendour, you must know how to remain in darkness and gloom [...], make yourself like dirt and dust, together with the crowds: you must not differentiate yourself from them'.

Our reality is woven with contrasting states, which innervate and complete it, even making it advance. Even transforming it into a raging torrent.

Rejection, abandonment, an experience of failure, limitation, illness or lack of self-esteem - even a setback - can bring us back to the dormant energies of life and give birth to the new Person.

In this way:

How can we get in touch with our new ways of being? What steps can we take to enter into a dynamic of regeneration that helps to develop a lively atmosphere - and where do we start?

Jesus proposes Faith: a fundamental relationship, that is, a new way of standing before the Father and the world... with a trusting, spousal and creative attitude; in the initiative of another point of view.

Multifaceted love, Eros that comes to us in a palpable dialogue - not without inner struggles.

This takes place over the course of a journey (unique, not copied or external). Even on the spot, it can be annoying because it goes against the grain.

The religious authorities, on the other hand, sought their security in the strict and ostentatious observance of the written and oral Law.

Without risk, without dizzying personalisation.

Faced with this accommodating, unadventurous mentality, the young Master insists on the practice of Friendship [much stronger than voluntarism], which relativises fulfilments.

He thus gave deep Tradition its true meaning, rediscovering the authentic sense of the Torah and the rules of behaviour.

After all, it was precisely the spiritual leaders of the official religion who were the first not to believe what they preached to others... or rather, they felt exempt because they were accustomed to thinking of themselves as elected, recognised, selected, chosen models - almost as if they had been sent from above.

A recurring vice that the Risen One seems to see in the spiritual leaders of his own new people, where those in charge - while proclaiming Christ himself - began to become lovers of obsequiousness.

Just like the ancient professionals of religion, who pushed for conformism, legalism and moralism; accustomed to showing off, dictating judgement, and conditioning the very course of the Law.

Then, as skilled specialists, they always found any excuse to say and not do - and pass themselves off as 'impeccable believers':

'They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger' (v. 4).

Even today, true experts in communication always act in public, to be acclaimed.

But in their conduct they have no intimate, determining and rooted principle, remaining prey to situations; light as butterflies.

Driven by ambition, they are all show and vanity - even for the self-love aroused by the social influence they willingly desire and exercise.

A spirit of elitism and empty exaltation that Matthew notes winding its way even among his veterans of the community in Galilee and Syria.

Small assemblies were then besieged by an influx of pagans, from whom the Judaizing elders demanded hierarchical respect above all else.

Hypocritically dethroning Christ and the Father, these veterans of ancient religiosity also aspired to be called rabbis, fathers, preceptors (vv. 7-10). 

Self-proclaimed superiors, with limited and reductive standards of judgement.

In terms of the experience of faith, the Lord commands us instead to be all brothers and sisters - that is, equals - in the certainty of one Father.

This also applies to us, especially in this time of rebirth from the global crisis.

In Deus Caritas est (n. 35):

"This right way of serving makes the servant humble. He does not assume a position of superiority over others, however poor their situation may be at the moment. Christ took the last place in the world — the cross — and it is precisely through this radical humility that he redeemed us and constantly helps us. Those who are in a position to help recognise that it is precisely in this way that they themselves are helped; it is not their merit or a source of pride that they are able to help. This task is a grace. The more one works for others, the more one will understand and make one's own the words of Christ: "We are useless servants" (Lk 17:10). For one recognises that one is acting not on the basis of personal superiority or greater efficiency, but because the Lord has given one this gift. At times, excessive need and the limits of one's own work may expose one to the temptation of discouragement. But then he will be helped by the knowledge that, ultimately, he is only an instrument in the Lord's hands; he will thus be freed from the presumption of having to achieve, on his own and by himself, the necessary improvement of the world. In humility, he will do what he can and in humility he will entrust the rest to the Lord. It is God who rules the world, not us. We serve him only as we can and as long as he gives us the strength to do so. However, doing what we can with the strength we have is the task that keeps the good servant of Jesus Christ always on the move: 'The love of Christ impels us' (2 Cor 5:14).

How much we need a bath of humility in the soul of everyone who wants to be present in their actions!

We can start, for example, by avoiding using devotion and the Church as means of promotion, to appear important and emphasise some 'spiritual' rank higher than others.

This attitude is false in itself - it causes excessive forcing, deaf to the inner core. But it is also detrimental to the building of a family atmosphere, or a culture of encounter, a synodal journey, and so on.

On the contrary, by insisting on the attitude [which is indeed infallible] of mutual service, there will be no more time to be caught up in vanity, disputes over precedence, arguments, or the gap between words and deeds.

Where can the theatre of disaffection, which depresses rather than invigorates the people of God, start again?

From the everlasting scribes and Pharisees (v. 2), who are always exaggerated in their spirit of control.

Well, according to the Gospels, those who take on leadership roles in the Church are not entitled to any 'ribbons': they are simply 'deacons' (v. 11) of their brothers and sisters.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you like ribbons? What does your soul say about peacocks?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In this Sunday’s Liturgy, the Apostle Paul invites us to draw near to the Gospel “not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God” (1 Thess 2:13). Thus we can accept with faith the warning that Jesus offers to our conscience, in order to conform our way of living to it. In today’s passage he rebukes the scribes and the Pharisees, who were the teachers of the community, because their own conduct was openly in conflict with the teaching they rigorously taught others. Jesus underlines that they “preach, but do not practise” (Mt 23:3); rather “they bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger” (Mt 23:4). Good teaching must be received but it risks being contradicted by inconsistent behaviour. Thus Jesus says: “practise and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do” (Mt 23:3). Jesus’ attitude is exactly the opposite: he is the first to practise the commandment of love, which he teaches to everyone, and he can say the burden is light and easy because he helps us carry it (cf. Mt 11:29-30). 

Thinking of teachers who oppress the freedom of others in the name of authority, St Bonaventure points out who the authentic teacher is, affirming that, “No one can teach or practise, or reach knowable truths unless the Son of God is present” (Sermo I de Tempore, Dom. XXII post Pentecosten, Opera omnia, IX, Quaracchi, 1901, 442). “Jesus sits on the cathedra of Moses... as the greater Moses, who broadens the Covenant to include all nations” (cf. Jesus of Nazareth, Doubleday, New York, 2007, p. 66). He is our true and only Teacher! We are, therefore, called to follow the Son of God, the Word Incarnate, who expresses the truth of his teaching through his faithfulness to the will of the Father, through the gift of himself. Bl. Antonio Rosmini writes: “The first teacher trains all the other teachers, as he also trains the same disciples themselves, because they exist only in virtue of that first tacit, but very powerful Magisterium” (Idea della Sapienza, 82, in: Introduzione alla filosofia, vol. II, Rome, 1934, 143). Jesus also firmly condemns vanity and observes that “deeds to be seen by men” (Mt 23:5), places them at the mercy of human approval, undermining the values that found the authenticity of the person. 

Dear friends, the Lord Jesus presented himself to the world as a servant, completely stripping himself and lowering himself to give on the Cross the most eloquent lesson of humility and love. His example gives rise to a proposal of life: “He who is greatest among you shall be your servant” (Mt 23:11). We invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy and we ask especially for those in Christian communities, who are called to the ministry of teaching, that they may always witness by their works to the truths that they communicate by their words.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus, 30 October 2011]

1. With my gaze turned to the Shroud, I would like to extend a cordial greeting to you all, the faithful of the Church of Turin. I greet the pilgrims who have come from every part of the world at the time of this public exposition to look at one of the most unsettling signs of the Redeemer's suffering love. 

As I entered the cathedral, which still shows the scars of last year's terrible fire, I paused in adoration before the Eucharist, the sacrament which is the focus of the Church's attention and, under humble appearances, contains the true, real and substantial presence of Christ. In the light of Christ's presence in our midst, I then stopped before the Shroud, the precious Linen that can help us better to understand the mystery of the love of God's Son for us. Before the Shroud, the intense and agonizing image of an unspeakable torment, I wish to thank the Lord for this unique gift, which asks for the believer's loving attention and complete willingness to follow the Lord.

3. For the believer, what counts above all is that the Shroud is a mirror of the Gospel. In fact, if we reflect on the sacred Linen, we cannot escape the idea that the image it presents has such a profound relationship with what the Gospels tell of Jesus' passion and death, that every sensitive person feels inwardly touched and moved at beholding it. Whoever approaches it is also aware that the Shroud does not hold people's hearts to itself, but turns them to him, at whose service the Father's loving providence has put it. Therefore, it is right to foster an awareness of the precious value of this image, which everyone sees and no one at present can explain. For every thoughtful person it is a reason for deep reflection, which can even involve one's life. The Shroud is thus a truly unique sign that points to Jesus, the true Word of the Father, and invites us to pattern our lives on the life of the One who gave himself for us.

7. The Shroud is an image of silence. There is a tragic silence of incommunicability, which finds its greatest expression in death, and there is the silence of fruitfulness, which belongs to whoever refrains from being heard outwardly in order to delve to the roots of truth and life. The Shroud expresses not only the silence of death but also the courageous and fruitful silence of triumph over the transitory, through total immersion in God's eternal present. It thus offers a moving confirmation of the fact that the merciful omnipotence of our God is not restrained by any power of evil, but knows instead how to make the very power of evil contribute to good. Our age needs to rediscover the fruitfulness of silence, in order to overcome the dissipation of sounds, images and chatter that too often prevent the voice of God from being heard.

[Pope John Paul II, veneration of the Shroud, Turin, 24 May 1998]

Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Mt 23:1-12) is set in the final days of Jesus’ life, in Jerusalem; days filled with expectations and also tension. On the one hand, Jesus directs harsh criticism at the scribes and Pharisees, and on the other, he entrusts important mandates to Christians of all times, thus also to us.

He says to the crowd: “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practice and observe whatever they tell you”. Meaning that they have the authority to teach what is in conformity with the Law of God. However, immediately after, Jesus adds: “but do not do ‘what they do; for they preach, but do not practice’” (vv. 2-3). Brothers and sisters, a frequent flaw of those in authority, whether civil or ecclesiastic authority, is that of demanding of others things — even righteous things — that they do not, however, put into practise in the first person. They live a double life. Jesus says: “They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger (v. 4). This attitude sets a bad example of authority, which should instead derive its primary strength precisely from setting a good example. Authority arises from a good example, so as to help others to practise what is right and proper, sustaining them in the trials that they meet on the right path. Authority is a help, but if it is wrongly exercised, it becomes oppressive; it does not allow people to grow, and creates a climate of distrust and hostility, and also leads to corruption.

Jesus openly denounces some of the negative conduct of the scribes and of some Pharisees: “they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues, and salutations in the market places” (vv. 6-7). This is a temptation that corresponds to human pride and that is not always easy to overcome. It is the attitude of living only for appearances.

Then Jesus entrusts the mandates to his disciples: “you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brethren. [...] Neither be called masters, for you have one master, the Christ. He who is greatest among you shall be your servant” (vv. 8-11).

We disciples of Jesus must not seek titles of honour, of authority or supremacy. I tell you, it pains me personally to see people who, psychologically, live in pursuit of vain accolades. We disciples of Jesus must not do this, because among ourselves there must be a simple and fraternal attitude. We are all brothers and sisters and in no way must we abuse others or look down on them. No. We are all brothers and sisters. If we have received talents from the heavenly Father, we must place them at the service of our brothers and sisters, and not exploit them for our own satisfaction and personal interests. We must not consider ourselves superior to others; modesty is essential for an existence that seeks to conform to the teaching of Jesus, who is meek and humble of heart and came not to be served but to serve. 

May the Virgin Mary, “humble and exalted more than any creature” (Dante,  Paradiso, xxxiii:2), help us, with her motherly intercession, to spurn pride and vanity, and to be meek and docile to the love that comes from God, for the service of our brothers and sisters and for their joy, which will also be our own.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 5 November 2017]

The Great Commandment: only profound Quality obliges

(Mt 22:34-40)

That of the ‘Great commandment’ was the most familiar catechism rule, even to infants.

Jesus is questioned to retort: and why do you not keep the one commandment that even God fulfils - the Sabbath rest?

The unique disposition in which the Father recognizes himself is Love, not some particular precept - because only profound Quality obliges.

The spiritual proposal of the Master makes the narrative of God's people and the practice of the Prophets its own: all heart, feet, hands - and intelligence.

Complete Love for God envelops the creature in every decision [heart], every moment and aspect of its concrete 'life', all its resources [strength].

Mt does not explicitly mention this last aspect, perhaps to emphasize that the Father does not absorb energies in any way, but transmits them.

And Jesus adds to the nuances of authentic understanding with God enumerated in the First Testament an unexpected side to those who think of love as a feeling only emotional.

The Lord suggests study, discernment and understanding of our perceptions (v.37) - the mental and deep intelligence aspect that complements Dt 6.

At first glance, it appears to be a secondary facet or even a frill for the qualitative leap from a common religious sense to the wisely and personally configured existence of Faith.

The exact opposite is true: we are children of a Father who does not supplant us, nor absorb our forces or potential, depersonalising us; not even from the mental point of view.

Practicality alone makes us fragile, not very aware; and when we are not convinced, we will not be reliable either, always at the mercy of changing situations and the conformist, fashionable, other people’s opinion.

Jesus does not speak of love for God in terms of intimacy and feeling, but of a totally involving affinity, made less oscillating precisely by the development of our sapiential measure on issues.

Here is a decisive appointment, of the Love in the round.

It would be unnatural to recognise a Lord of Heaven who does not come to meet us and instead towers over us with an objective of his own, which is extrinsic to us and makes us marginal.

Loving «How [and Because] yourself»: it is a new Genesis in the spirit of Giving.

The paradox suggested by Jesus is that we love for the care to meet - and because we love ourselves - by expanding the I into the You.

God’s «great command» affects real life and concerns not only the quality of relationship with the world and neighbour, but the reflexive global with oneself. 

We should not be afraid of other doctrines and disciplines, neglecting the challenges even intellectual ones that call into question beliefs, works, one’s worldview, language, style, and thought itself.

All added values.

Needless to complain, if the ecclesial realities that do not update or deepen, and remain in the inherited commonplaces [or vogues] slowly decay, then disappear.

Therefore to the ancient notes of true love, the Son of God adds the ‘quality of mind’: we are not gullible, clueless, one-sided.

Our outstretched hands are the result of free and conscious choice. No forced surrender.

«Faith that does not become culture is a faith that is not fully accepted, not entirely thought out, not faithfully lived» [John Paul II].

To internalize and live the message:

What is Great for you? Do you document and update yourself in order to better correspond to God’s Call?

[Friday 20th wk. in O.T.  August 21, 2026]