11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [14 June 2026]

First Reading from the Book of Exodus (19:2–6a)

This passage from Exodus describes the moment when God is about to establish the Covenant with Israel on Mount Sinai. Before giving the commandments, God reminds the people of what he has already done for them: he has freed them from Egypt and has always guided them with love and care. The image of the eagle carrying its young on its wings aptly expresses the way in which God accompanies his people: not to make them dependent, but to teach them freedom, like a parent who teaches their children to walk on their own. Deuteronomy, too, presents God as an eagle that protects, sustains and instructs its young. The Covenant is founded on this experience of love and liberation: the people’s trust arises from the fact that God has already demonstrated his faithfulness. For this reason, in the Bible, liberation always precedes the commandments. God promises Israel: ‘You shall be my special possession among all peoples, for the whole earth belongs to me; you shall be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ The election of Israel is therefore not a privilege to boast of, but a mission received in order to learn to love. Israel was chosen not because it was stronger or more numerous, but because it was loved by God. Over time, the people would come to understand more fully that God is not merely the God of Israel, but the Lord of the earth. Israel’s vocation is therefore universal: to be a sign of God’s presence for all peoples. The expression ‘a kingdom of priests, a holy nation’ indicates that the whole people is consecrated to God. This idea will be taken up by Christianity: according to the Apostle Peter, all the baptised share in a ‘royal priesthood’ and are called to proclaim the wonders of God. The central message is that God liberates, educates for freedom and calls his people to live a relationship of trust with him, not as an exclusive privilege, but as service and witness for the good of all.

Responsorial Psalm (99/100) 

This Psalm was composed to accompany a thanksgiving sacrifice in the Temple of Jerusalem. A liturgical atmosphere emerges from its very words: the people are invited to praise God, serve him with joy and enter his presence to give him thanks. The central theme of the Psalm is therefore the Covenant between God and Israel. Each verse recalls the memory of the deliverance from Egypt and the faithful love with which God chose and guided his people. For Israel, giving thanks means first and foremost remembering that God delivered them when they were slaves in Egypt and made them a people. He then entered into a covenant of communion with this people. The invocation “Praise the Lord, all you of the earth” proclaims that God is the true King and anticipates the day when all humanity will recognise his lordship. Israel thus understands that its election is not an exclusive privilege, but a mission in the service of all peoples. The expression “Serve the Lord with gladness” thus takes on a special meaning: after having been slaves in Egypt, the Israelites learn that service to God is not slavery, but a free response of love. When the Psalm states “He has made us, and we are his”, it does not refer primarily to the creation of man, but to the birth of Israel as the people of the Covenant. God has given identity and freedom to those who were slaves and scattered. The words “We are his people” recall the fundamental promise of the Covenant: “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. The Psalm concludes by celebrating two essential characteristics of God: his eternal love and his unfailing faithfulness. In the Bible, in fact, “love and truth or faithfulness” are the expressions that best describe God’s relationship with his people. The believer is called to acknowledge the Lord as the one and only God, remembering with gratitude his work of liberation and trusting in his love and faithfulness that endure forever.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (5:6–11) 

For Saint Paul, the coming of Jesus Christ marks a decisive turning point in human history. Before Christ, humanity, enslaved by sin, was unable to find the way back to God on its own and drifted ever further from Him. The great news of the Gospel is that Christ has set us back on the right path. Paul affirms that we have been justified and reconciled with God not because of our own merits, but by pure grace. It is a free gift: God takes the initiative and offers salvation to all through Jesus Christ. The expression ‘Christ died for us’ does not mean that God willed or demanded the violent death of His Son as compensation for humanity’s sins. God is love and does not act according to a logic of debts and payments. Jesus’ death must be understood as the consequence of His total fidelity to the mission He received: to proclaim God’s love, forgiveness, non-violence and mercy. Like a man who risks his life to save others, Jesus accepted the risk of being rejected. He was killed by men, a victim of hatred and violence, not by God’s will. Until the very end, however, he continued to bear witness to forgiveness. Looking at the cross, we then discover the true face of God: not an angry God seeking vengeance, but a God of love and mercy. In Jesus, who forgives even his persecutors, the goodness of the Father is fully revealed. The reconciliation of which Paul speaks consists precisely in overcoming mistrust towards God, that very mistrust represented by Adam. Thanks to the Holy Spirit, humanity can finally live at peace with God and receive his love. This is why Paul affirms that God’s love has been poured into our hearts: through Christ we are once again brought into communion with God and become his children. Salvation, therefore, is a free gift from God. Christ’s death is not a price demanded by God, but the supreme testimony of his love and forgiveness, which reconcile us with the Father and open up a new life for us.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (9:36–10:8) 

The people of the Old Testament had already discovered that God is merciful, that is, he bends down to human suffering. Whilst Jesus in the Gospel shows the same compassion, he does not limit himself to feeling pity, but intervenes concretely to heal and set free. This is why the mission of Jesus and his apostles is first and foremost a mission of healing. Jesus proclaims the Kingdom of God and, at the same time, offers visible signs of it: he heals the sick, frees people from evil spirits and restores life and hope. When he sends out his disciples, he entrusts them with the same task: proclaim that the Kingdom is near and fight evil in all its forms. Jesus is moved by compassion not only for individual suffering, but also for the whole people, whom he sees ‘as sheep without a shepherd’. In him are fulfilled the Old Testament promises concerning the Messiah-shepherd who would gather and guide his people. When Jesus asks the apostles to turn first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, he does not exclude other peoples, but recalls Israel’s particular mission: to be the first recipient of salvation and then to bring it to all nations. “Freely you have received, freely give”: this expression sums up the life of the believer. Everything we receive from God is, in fact, free. His grace cannot be bought or earned; it is a gift of love. Yet we often struggle to accept this gratuitousness and think we must “earn” God’s favour. Just as God gives freely, so too are we called to give freely. This means helping, serving, loving and forgiving without seeking rewards, recognition or personal gain. Indeed, Jesus invites his disciples to love even their enemies unconditionally and not to wait for others to deserve our help. Those who have experienced God’s free forgiveness are called in turn to become instruments of forgiveness and mercy. Finally, Jesus teaches trust: he chose apostles who were very different from one another and entrusted them with a great mission without demanding guarantees. So too today, God continues to call fragile people to collaborate in his work. Ultimately, we understand that the Kingdom of God is realised in spite of our frailties and, at times, our betrayals. It is also manifested through healing, compassion and, above all, in the victory over evil. Those who have received God’s love freely are called to give it to others with the same generosity, trust and mercy, in the certainty that God is the author of all things and we are merely instruments in his hands.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Solemnity of Corpus Christi [7 June 2026]

First reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (8:2–3, 14b–16)

The text calls on the people of Israel to remember their long journey through the desert following their exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. The forty years in the desert were marked by hunger, thirst, poverty, snakes, scorpions and loneliness. But the central point is not the suffering itself: it is God’s faithful presence in the midst of trials. God fed the people with manna; he brought water forth from the rock; he protected Israel during their journey; he concluded the Covenant on Mount Sinai. The trials of the desert are presented as a divine ‘pedagogy’: God educates his people as a father educates his son. Through fragility, Israel learns two truths: its own poverty and dependence, and at the same time God’s constant care. The fundamental message is that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that comes from God: his Word, his Spirit, his presence. The text also emphasises the duty of remembrance: ‘Remember’, ‘do not forget’. To remember means to remain faithful to one’s roots and to the Covenant. Forgetting God leads to idolatry and enslavement to other powers. When Israel settles in the Promised Land of Canaan, the danger will no longer be the desert, but prosperity and forgetfulness. For this reason, obedience to the commandments becomes essential. The final section offers a significant image: memory is like the roots of a tree; a people without memory dies spiritually; the future depends on fidelity to one’s roots. Finally, the text links everything to Jesus Christ, who in the desert echoes the words of Deuteronomy: ‘Man does not live by bread alone’. On the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the believer is invited to welcome God into their heart. The memory of a people (or a community, or a couple) is a bit like the roots of a tree: today we see the tree, we do not see the roots… yet it lives only thanks to them and owes everything to them, in a sense. Imagine a tree saying: ‘I am separating myself from my roots; they prevent me from moving, worse still, they prevent me from flying’. The rest of the story would be the death of the tree. In the truest sense of the word, the tree’s future lies in its roots. When Moses tells his people “Remember” or “do not forget”, it is as if he were saying to them “do not cut yourself off from your roots”, “your future lies in your faithfulness to your roots”. Moses does not look to the past out of sentiment; but it is precisely because he is entirely focused on the future that he is concerned with fidelity to one’s roots. He says something along the lines of: ‘If you want to still be standing tomorrow, do not forget today who you are and to whom you owe it.’ From century to century, Israel has built itself up by remaining faithful to its roots. Jesus, in turn, to resist the tempter, simply echoed the words of Deuteronomy: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Mt 4:4).

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 147/148 

Praise the Lord, Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! We must note this parallel: Zion and Jerusalem are one and the same. And, moreover, when we speak of Zion or Jerusalem here, we are referring not so much to the city as to its inhabitants—that is, ultimately, the people of Israel. The expression: ‘Praise the Lord, Jerusalem!’ can be easily dated: we are at the time of the return from the Babylonian exile, that is, at the end of the 6th century, when it was necessary to rebuild the city and restore the Temple. Without God’s help, none of this would have been possible: He has strengthened the bars of Jerusalem’s gates! In the previous psalm, God is called the ‘builder of Jerusalem’ and the ‘gatherer of the scattered of Israel’ (Ps 146/147 A,2). But this is not merely a task of architecture that God has accomplished: this return to the homeland is a true restoration of the people; a new life is about to begin—a life of peace and security: ‘He grants peace within your borders and satisfies you with the finest wheat’. In exile, the people ate the bread of tears and bitterness; the return to the homeland is a time of abundance. The second very strong emphasis of this psalm is the keen awareness of the privilege represented by the election of Israel: the Lord has not done this for any other nation; he has not made his laws known to them. We read in the Book of Deuteronomy: ‘You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: he has chosen you to be his people, his special possession among all the peoples of the earth (Dt 7:6; 10:15). This is a free and inexplicable choice of God, one that never ceases to amaze us and for which we never cease to give thanks. From a human perspective, this choice cannot be explained; the only explanation Moses found is that because he loved your forefathers, he chose their descendants and brought you out of Egypt by his presence and his great power (cf. Dt 4:37). It is therefore simply a love story with no other explanation. At first, Israel did not feel it was living in an exclusive Covenant with the God of Sinai and thought that other peoples had their own protective gods: Israel was not yet monotheistic, but ‘monolatrous’ (also known as ‘enotheistic’), that is, it worshipped a single God, the God of Sinai, who had delivered it from Egypt. It only truly became “monotheistic” during the Babylonian exile (in the 6th century BC). A new leap in faith then took place alongside the discovery of universalism: if the God of Sinai was the one and only God, then He was also the God of all peoples. However, this did not negate the election of Israel, as can be seen in certain texts of the prophet Isaiah: “You, Israel, my servant whom I have chosen, descendant of Abraham my friend… Fear not, for I am with you… I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, and uphold you with my victorious right hand” (Isa 41:8–10). Isaiah also helped his contemporaries understand that their election now took on a different form: that of a vocation to serve other peoples, to be witnesses of God among them. “I will make you a light to the nations, so that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Is 49:6).

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (10:16–17)

In this text, Paul frames the whole matter with two warnings: ‘Beloved, flee from idolatry’ (v. 14) ‘Do we wish to provoke the Lord to jealousy?’ (v. 22) In the Bible, God’s “jealousy” is always a warning against idolatry.   In Corinth, some Christians, converts from paganism, were tempted to continue taking part in the sacred feasts in the temples of idols, offering animal sacrifices. For Paul, there are no half-measures: either one enters into communion with the living God in the Eucharist, or one seeks another communion. One cannot partake “of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons”. Another practical question was whether a Christian could eat the meat from idolatrous sacrifices sold in the market. Paul replies that one may eat it because idols do not exist and therefore there is no sacred meat; nevertheless, one must avoid causing offence to those who are  weak in faith.

He then emphasises the Christian meal of the Eucharist, which is, in contrast, true communion with Christ. Paul highlights the significance of the Christian meal and asks: ‘Is not the cup of blessing a communion with the blood of Christ? Is not the bread we break a communion with the body of Christ?’ The Greek word is koinonia: communion, intimate participation, mutual belonging.  Christ himself, at the Last Supper, spoke of the ‘New Covenant in my blood’. And in the biblical Covenant there is mutual belonging: ‘You shall be my people and I shall be your God’. The entire Eucharistic Liturgy is the place where the Covenant is fulfilled.  The Eucharist is a meal of communion as in ancient cults, but the value of the sacrifice has changed. God no longer asks for the killing of animals, but for the gift of life: ‘You do not desire sacrifice and offering, [...] so I said: “Here I am”’ (Ps 39/40).   Christ offered his whole life. And, by participating in the Eucharist, we unite our lives to his to offer them to the Father. Paul dares to say: ‘The bread we break is communion with the body of Christ’, that is, we form one body with him, and for this reason we can live as he did. St Augustine sums it up: ‘You become what you receive; you receive what you are.’ By receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, we in turn become lives offered for the birth of a new humanity; an exclusive choice, for one cannot serve both God and idols, and, in the logic of the gift, 

the Christian sacrifice is to offer one’s own life united with that of Christ. We become bread broken for others; thus, in a single sentence: we understand that the Eucharist is the place where the transcendent God draws intimately near to us and transforms us into a gift for the world. 

From the Gospel according to John (6:51–58)

Here is a discourse that is hard to accept, yet it is the word of Life. After the discourse on the Bread of Life, many disciples abandon Jesus. His words are, humanly speaking, incomprehensible. Jesus then addresses the Twelve directly: ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ And Peter replies: ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ It is the paradox of faith: these words cannot be explained by strict logic, but only by living them, and the lesson is clear: it is not from books that one understands what the Eucharist is, but by participating in it and allowing oneself to be drawn into the mystery of Christ. The word ‘life’ recurs several times in this discourse: ‘The bread that I will give is my flesh, given for the life of the world’ and, as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews: ‘Entering the world, Christ says: “Behold, I come to do your will.” And God’s will is that the world may have life.  It is a free gift, as Isaiah had already announced: ‘All you who are thirsty, come to the water… buy without money, without payment’ (Is 55:1-3), because what gives us life is the gift of Christ’s life, that is, his sacrifice. The biblical teaching on sacrifice reveals a progressive conversion: from the idea of bloody sacrifices, including human ones, to the absolute prohibition of human sacrifice, leading to the acceptance of sacrifice as an offering of bread and wine (Melchizedek, Gen 14:18). The Songs of the Servant also help us understand that the true sacrifice is to give one’s life for others. And Jesus says that his life is given entirely for humanity. The bread that I will give is my flesh, given so that the world may have life. In the Eucharistic sacrifice, by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, Christ remains in us and we in him; in Jesus, therefore, we receive the very life of God: ‘Just as the Father, who has life, sent me and I live for the Father, so whoever eats me will live for me’. The essential conversion is to move from ‘performing the sacred’—that is, offering things to God—to learning to receive the Life that God gives us in Christ, so that we too may become life given to others. In short: the Eucharist cannot be explained but must be lived, for it is the gift of Christ’s life that draws us into Him, transforms us and enables us to give life for the world. A final note: the word ‘flesh’ that Jesus uses here is equivalent to ‘life’, and we can therefore understand that the Eucharist is his life given so that the world may have life. How? Through his passion, death and resurrection. Immersed in the Paschal Mystery through the Eucharist, each of us is called to welcome the life that God gives us so that we, in turn, may be the Eucharist, a gift of life for all.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Already rebellious: special Vocation

(Lk 2:41-51)

The Gospel passage is disconcerting because it seems to portray a distracted family and an authentic, surprising, already surly and rebellious Jesus.

Lk is writing more than half a century after the Lord's death and resurrection, and he wants to bring out the character of Faith and inclination of his communities still in search.

The bloody story of the Master had to be understood and internalised in a way that was not immediately apparent; not even to those closest to the Messiah.

It seems that the Holy Family went up to Jerusalem every year for the Passover (v.41).

Our Adolescent shows signs of particular vocation, even before becoming an adult and required to observe the Torah [in Israel, 13 years old].

From the tone of the narrative we note a Jesus eager to feed and immerse himself in the still unexpressed Mystery of the Father.

Dreaming of discovering his Will, he stayed in the holy city to fully understand the Word of God - without being satisfied of impersonal, abbreviated catechisms.

First expressions of Jesus in the third Gospel mark the character of his whole story.

He firmly detached himself from the religiosity of the ‘fathers’ (v.49).

The Lord begins to distance himself from ideas common even to his family of origin: he does not belong to a definite clan.

His will be a divine proposal in favor of all the women and men of the world.

So Jesus has even more honoured the fidelity to God of his parents (vv.51-52) by accepting the whole spirit of their teachings, and digging further - sensing their ultimate meaning.

As if to say: in Him the sacred Scriptures become accessible, with the reading’s key of his whole story and Person.

Life for us - even before Baptism and public events.

Lk writes to encourage believers who did not yet fully understand about personality [and dramatic outcome] of the new Rabbi.

Like Joseph and Mary, they had to realise that it is not easy to understand the Son of God and accept his uniqueness of character, even to the point of earthly defeat.

In the figure of the Holy Family, we too are invited to «return to Jerusalem» (v.45).

Well, observing the autonomy of Christ, we will gradually be able to open ourselves to the unprecedent vocation that we carry within us - because we are ‘born again’ in Him.

And in the face of disconcerting events, we will learn to guard the personal Call - like Mary. 

Because She too did not find it easy to enter in her Easter: the ‘passage’ from the religion of traditions and common expectations to the Faith in the Son.

But She «preserved through» Word and events (v.51b), without stopping halfway.

The movement of Salvation familiarizes everyone in the dynamics of bewilderment [from narrowness] and finding [of a Presence within the different presences] in order not to narrow the horizons.

[Immaculate Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary, June 13, 2026]

Already rebellious: Particular Vocation

(Lk 2:41-51)

The family is the nucleus of society and the privileged place of educational risk, not the only one.

It is a precious stage of growth, but it must not hinder the blossoming into the universal dimension.

The movement of Salvation familiarises everyone with the dynamics of being lost [from narrowness] and found [of a Presence within narrowness] in order not to narrow horizons.

The complacent retreat into the world of kinship affections and interests reduces the dimension of vital frontiers, making personal and household life narrow; cultural, social and spiritual.

The home hearth must integrate them into the community, and introduce young people to the knowledge of the innate character of their vocation, so that as they grow up they become available and mature in an ever wider reality.

The family that becomes a trampoline preludes detachment, which in its cut will be painful for all - but it will become a taking flight from the protected nest that enslaves; a leap towards the freedom of full life.

The Gospel passage is disconcerting because it seems to portray a distracted family and an already grumpy and rebellious Jesus.

Lk writes more than half a century after the Lord's death and resurrection.

The tragic story of the Master is understood and internalised in a way that perhaps Joseph and Mary could not yet have guessed in their adolescence.

Recognising Jesus as the Son of God from the age of twelve meant in the literature of the time "covering" his whole life [cf. Lk 24].

It seems that the holy family went up to Jerusalem every year for the Passover (v.41).

Before they became adults in Israel and required to observe the Torah (13 years old), our teenager already shows signs of a special vocation.

The tone of the narration reveals a Jesus eager to drink in and immerse himself in the as yet unexpressed Mystery of the Father.

Dreaming of discovering his Will, he stays in the holy city to deeply understand the Word of God - without being satisfied with impersonal, abbreviated catechisms.

The first expressions of Jesus in the third Gospel mark the character of his whole life. He decisively distances himself from the religiosity of his fathers (v.49).

He begins to distance himself from the ideas common even to his family of origin: he does not belong to a defined clan.

His will be a divine proposal on behalf of all the women and men of the world.

In this sense, Jesus even more honoured his parents' faithfulness to God (vv.51-52) by accepting the entire spirit of their teachings, and digging deeper - intuiting their ultimate meaning.

As if to say: in Him, the sacred Scriptures become accessible, with the key to understanding His whole story and Person.

Life for us (even before Baptism and the public affair).

Lk writes to encourage believers who did not yet understand everything about the new Rabbi.

Like Joseph and Mary, they had to realise that it is not easy to understand the Son of God and accept his uniqueness of character, even to the point of earthly defeat.

In the figure of the holy family, we too are invited to "return to Jerusalem" (v.45).

Here, by observing the autonomy of Christ, we will gradually be able to open ourselves to the unprecedented vocation that we carry within - because we have been "reborn" in Him.

And in the face of bewildering events, we learn to cherish the personal calling - like Mary. 

For she too did not find it easy to enter his Passover: the "passage" from the religion of traditions and expectations to Faith in the Son.

But they "kept through" the Word and events (v.51b), without stopping in the middle.

The reflective aspect of the House of Nazareth

The house of Nazareth is the school where one is initiated to understand the life of Jesus, that is, the school of the Gospel. Here we learn to observe, to listen, to meditate, to penetrate the meaning so profound and so mysterious of this manifestation of the Son of God so simple, so humble and so beautiful. Perhaps we also learn, almost without realising it, to imitate.Here we learn the method that will enable us to know who Christ is. Here we discover the need to observe the framework of his sojourn among us: that is, the places, the times, the customs, the language, the sacred rites, in short, everything that Jesus used to manifest himself to the world.Here everything has a voice, everything has meaning. Here, at this school, we certainly understand why we must keep a spiritual discipline, if we wish to follow the doctrine of the Gospel and become disciples of Christ. Oh! how willingly we would like to become children again and put ourselves to this humble and sublime school of Nazareth! How ardently we long to begin again, close to Mary, to learn the true science of life and the superior wisdom of divine truths! But we are but passing through, and it is necessary for us to lay aside the desire to continue to know, in this house, the unfinished formation to the intelligence of the Gospel. However, we will not leave this place without picking up, almost furtively, some brief admonitions from the house of Nazareth.Firstly, it teaches us silence. Oh! would that the appreciation of silence, the admirable and indispensable atmosphere of the spirit, could be reborn in us: while we are stunned by so many noises, rumblings and clamorous voices in the exaggerated and tumultuous life of our time. O Silence of Nazareth, teach us to be firm in good thoughts, intent on the inner life, ready to hear God's secret inspirations and the exhortations of the true teachers. Teach us how important and necessary are the work of preparation, study, meditation, the interiority of life, prayer, which God alone sees in secret.Here we understand the way of life as a family. Nazareth reminds us what the family is, what the communion of love is, its austere and simple beauty, its sacred and inviolable character; it shows us how sweet and irreplaceable education in the family is, it teaches us its natural function in the social order. Finally, let us learn the lesson of work. Oh! dwelling place of Nazareth, home of the carpenter's Son! Here above all we wish to understand and celebrate the law, severe of course but redeeming of human toil; here we wish to ennoble the dignity of work so that it is felt by all; to remind us under this roof that work cannot be an end in itself, but that it receives its freedom and excellence, not only from what is called economic value, but also from what turns it to its noble end; Here, finally, we wish to greet the workers of the whole world and show them the great model, their divine brother, the prophet of all the just causes that concern them, that is Christ our Lord.

[Pope Paul VI, Church of the Annunciation Nazareth 5 January 1964]

Immaculate Mother,
in this place of grace,
called together by the love of your Son Jesus
the Eternal High Priest, we,
sons in the Son and his priests,
consecrate ourselves to your maternal Heart,
in order to carry out faithfully the Father’s Will.

We are mindful that, without Jesus,
we can do nothing good (cf. Jn 15:5)
and that only through him, with him and in him,
will we be instruments of salvation
for the world.

Bride of the Holy Spirit,
obtain for us the inestimable gift
of transformation in Christ.
Through the same power of the Spirit that
overshadowed you,
making you the Mother of the Saviour,
help us to bring Christ your Son
to birth in ourselves too.
May the Church
be thus renewed by priests who are holy,
priests transfigured by the grace of him
who makes all things new.

Mother of Mercy,
it was your Son Jesus who called us
to become like him:
light of the world and salt of the earth
(cf. Mt 5:13-14).

Help us,
through your powerful intercession,
never to fall short of this sublime vocation,
nor to give way to our selfishness,
to the allurements of the world
and to the wiles of the Evil One.

Preserve us with your purity,
guard us with your humility
and enfold us with your maternal love
that is reflected in so many souls
consecrated to you,
who have become for us
true spiritual mothers.

Mother of the Church,
we priests want to be pastors
who do not feed themselves
but rather give themselves to God for their brethren,
finding their happiness in this.
Not only with words, but with our lives,
we want to repeat humbly,
day after day,
Our “here I am”.

Guided by you,
we want to be Apostles
of Divine Mercy,
glad to celebrate every day
the Holy Sacrifice of the Altar
and to offer to those who request it
the sacrament of Reconciliation.

Advocate and Mediatrix of grace,
you who are fully immersed
in the one universal mediation of Christ,
invoke upon us, from God,
a heart completely renewed
that loves God with all its strength
and serves mankind as you did.

Repeat to the Lord
your efficacious word:
“They have no wine” (Jn 2:3),
so that the Father and the Son will send upon us
a new outpouring of
the Holy Spirit.
Full of wonder and gratitude
at your continuing presence in our midst,
in the name of all priests
I too want to cry out:
“Why is this granted me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Lk 1:43).

Our Mother for all time,
do not tire of “visiting us”,
consoling us, sustaining us.
Come to our aid
and deliver us from every danger
that threatens us.
With this act of entrustment and consecration,
we wish to welcome you
more deeply, more radically,
for ever and totally
into our human and priestly lives.

Let your presence cause new blooms to burst forth
in the desert of our loneliness,
let it cause the sun to shine on our darkness,
let it restore calm after the tempest,
so that all mankind shall see the salvation
of the Lord,
who has the name and the face of Jesus,
who is reflected in our hearts,
for ever united to yours!

Amen!

[Pope Benedict, Fatima 12 May 2010]

The family is the heart of the Church. Let us today raise from this heart an act of special entrustment to the heart of the Mother of God.

In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption we want to confess that love is greater than sin and all evil, which threatens man and the world.

With humility let us invoke this love:

1. "Under your protection we seek refuge, Holy Mother of God"!

Speaking the words of this antiphon, with which the Church of Christ has prayed for centuries, we stand before you today, Mother, in the Jubilee Year of our Redemption.

We find ourselves united with all the pastors of the Church, in a special bond, constituting a body and a college, just as by Christ's will the apostles constituted a body and a college with Peter.

In the bond of such unity, we utter the words of this act, in which we wish to encapsulate, once again, the hopes and anxieties of the Church for the contemporary world.

Forty years ago, and then again ten years later, your servant, Pope Pius XII, having before his eyes the sorrowful experiences of the human family, entrusted and consecrated to your Immaculate Heart, the whole world and especially the peoples, who by their situation are particular objects of your love and solicitude.

This world of men and nations is also before our eyes today: the world of the second millennium that is coming to an end, the contemporary world, our world!

The Church, mindful of the words of the Lord: "Go . . . and teach all nations . . . Behold, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world' (Mt 28:19-20), has revived, in the Second Vatican Council, the consciousness of her mission in this world.

And therefore, O Mother of men and peoples, you who know all their sufferings and their hopes, you who maternally feel all the struggles between good and evil, between light and darkness, that shake the contemporary world, accept our cry which, moved by the Holy Spirit, we address directly to your Heart: embrace, with love as mother and servant of the Lord, this human world of ours, which we entrust and consecrate to you, full of concern for the earthly and eternal fate of men and peoples.

In a special way we entrust and consecrate to you those men and nations, who are in particular need of this entrustment and consecration.

"Under your protection we seek refuge, Holy Mother of God! Do not despise the pleas of us who are in trial!

2. Behold, as we stand before you, Mother of Christ, before your immaculate heart, we wish, together with the whole Church, to unite ourselves to the consecration which, out of love for us, your Son made of himself to the Father: "For their sake," he said, "I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:19). We wish to unite ourselves with our Redeemer in this consecration for the world and for mankind, which, in his divine heart, has the power to obtain forgiveness and to procure reparation.

The power of this consecration endures for all time and embraces all men, peoples and nations, and overcomes every evil, which the spirit of darkness is capable of awakening in the heart of man and in his history, and which, in fact, it has awakened in our times.

Oh, how deeply we feel the need for consecration for humanity and for the world: for our contemporary world, in union with Christ himself! The redemptive work of Christ must be shared by the world through the Church.

This is manifested by the present Year of the Redemption: the extraordinary Jubilee of the whole Church.

Be blessed, in this Holy Year, above every creature You, servant of the Lord, who in the fullest manner obeyed the divine call!

Be hailed you, who are wholly united to the redemptive consecration of your Son!

Mother of the Church! Enlighten God's people on the paths of faith, hope and charity! Enlighten especially the peoples whose consecration and entrustment you await. Help us to live in the truth of Christ's consecration for the entire human family of today's world.

3. In entrusting to you, O Mother, the world, all men and all peoples, we also entrust to you the very consecration of the world, placing it in your motherly heart.

Oh, immaculate heart! Help us to overcome the menace of evil, which so easily takes root in the hearts of people today and which in its immeasurable effects already burdens the present life and seems to close the paths to the future!

From hunger and war, deliver us!

From nuclear war, from incalculable self-destruction, from all kinds of war, deliver us!

From the sins against the life of man since its dawning, deliver us!

From hatred and from the degradation of the dignity of God's children, deliver us!

From every kind of injustice in social, national and international life, deliver us!From the easy trampling of God's commandments, deliver us!

From the attempt to obfuscate in human hearts the very truth of God, deliver us!

From the loss of the conscience of good and evil, deliver us!

From sins against the Holy Spirit, deliver us! Deliver us!

Receive, O Mother of Christ, this cry laden with the suffering of all men! Burden us with the suffering of entire societies!

Help us with the power of the Holy Spirit to overcome all sin: the sin of man and the "sin of the world", sin in all its manifestations.

May the infinite saving power of the Redemption be revealed once more in the history of the world: the power of merciful Love! Let it arrest evil! Transform consciences! In Thy Immaculate Heart may the light of Hope be revealed for all!

[Pope John Paul II, Jubilee of Families 25 March 1984]

[...] The liturgy invites us to reflect on the experience of Mary, Joseph and Jesus, united by an immense love and inspired by great trust in God. Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Lk 2:41-52) recounts the journey of the family of Nazareth to Jerusalem, for the celebration of Passover. But, on the return journey, the parents realize that their 12-year-old son is not in the caravan. After three days of searching and fear, they find him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, focused on a discussion with them. At the sight of the Son, Mary and Joseph “were astonished” (v. 48) and the Mother revealed their fear to him, saying: “your father and I have been looking for you anxiously” (ibid.)

Astonishment — they “were astonished” — and anxiety — “your father and I, anxious” — are the two elements to which I would like to call your attention: astonishment and anxiety.

In the family of Nazareth astonishment never waned, not even in a dramatic moment such as Jesus being lost: it is the ability to be astonished before the gradual manifestation of the Son of God. It is the same astonishment that even strikes the teachers of the temple, “amazed at his understanding and his answers” (v. 47). But what is astonishment; what is it to be astonished? Being astonished and being amazed is the opposite of taking everything for granted; it is the opposite of interpreting the reality that surrounds us and historical events according to our criteria alone. A person who does this does not know what amazement is, what astonishment is. Being astonished is being open to others, understanding others’ reasons: this attitude is important for mending compromised interpersonal relationships, and is also indispensable for healing open wounds in the familial environment. When there are problems in families, we take for granted that we are right and we close the door to others. Instead, it is important to think: ‘What is good about this person?’, and to be astonished by this ‘good’. And this helps family unity. If you have problems in the family, think about the good things in the family member with whom you have problems, and be astonished by this. This will help to heal familial wounds.

The second element that I would like to grasp from the Gospel is the anxiety that Mary and Joseph felt when they could not find Jesus. This anxiety reveals Jesus’ centrality in the Holy Family. The Virgin and her husband welcomed that Son, protected him and watched him grow in age, wisdom and grace in their midst, but above all he grew in their hearts; and, little by little, their affection for him and their understanding of him grew. This is why the family of Nazareth is holy: because it was centred on Jesus; all of Mary and Joseph’s attention and concerns were directed toward him.

That anxiety that they experienced in the three days that Jesus was missing should also be our anxiety when we are distant from him, when we are distant from Jesus. We should feel anxious when we forget Jesus for more than three days, without praying, without reading the Gospel, without feeling the need of his presence and of his comforting friendship. And many times, days pass in which I do not remember Jesus. But this is bad, this is really bad. We should feel anxious when these things happen. Mary and Joseph searched for him and found him in the temple while he was teaching: for us too, it is especially in the house of God that we are able to encounter the divine Teacher and receive his message of salvation. In the Eucharistic celebration we have a living experience of Christ; he speaks to us; he offers us his Word; he illuminates us, lights our path, gives us his Body in the Eucharist from which we draw vigour to face everyday difficulties.

And today let us go home with these two words: astonishment and anxiety. Do I know how to be astonished, when I see the good things in others, and in this way resolve family problems? Do I feel anxious when I am distant from Jesus?

Let us pray for all the families in the world, especially those in which, for various reasons, peace and harmony are lacking. And let us entrust them to the protection of the Holy Family of Nazareth.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 30 December 2018]

Scientists and Lowlies: abstract world and incarnation

(Mt 11:25-30)

The leaders looked at religiosity with a view to interest. Professors of theology were accustomed to evaluate every comma on the basis of their own knowledge, ridiculous but supponent - unrelated to real events.

That which remains tied to customs and the usual protagonists does not make one dream, it is not an apparition and astonishing testimony of Elsewhere; it detracts expressive richness of the announcement and life.

The Lord rejoices in his own experience, which brings a non-epidermal joy and a teaching from the Spirit - about those who are well disposed, and able to understand the depths of the Kingdom, in ordinary things.

In short, after an initial moment of enthusiastic crowds, the Christ delves deeper into the themes and finds himself all against, except God and the least ones: the weightlesses, but eager to start from scratch.

Glimpse of the Mystery that leavens history - without making it a possession.

At first even Jesus is stunned by the rejection of those who considered themselves already satisfied and no longer expected anything that could overcome habits.

Then He understands, praises and blesses the Father's plan: the authentic Person is born from the gutter, and possesses «the sense of neighborhood» (FT n.152).

The Creator is simple Relationship: He demystifies the idol of greatness.

The Eternal One is not the master of creation: He is Refreshment that reassures, because makes us feel complete and lovable. He seeks us out, He pays attention to the language of the heart.

He is Custodian of the world, even of the unlearned ones - of the «infants»  (v.25) spontaneously empty of boastful spirit, that is, of those who do not remain closed in their sufficient belonging.

Thus the Father-Son bond is communicated to God’s poor: those who are endowed with the attitude of family members (v.27).

Insignificant and invisible without great external capacities, but who abandon themselves to the proposals of the provident life that comes, like babies in the arms of parents.

In this way, with a pietas’ Spirit that favours those who allow themselves to be filled with innate wisdom.

The only reality that corresponds to us and does not present the "bill": it does not proceed along the paths of functional thinking, of calculating initiative.

Sapience that transmits freshness in the readiness to personally receive, welcome, re-temper the Truth as a Gift, and the spontaneous enthusiasm itself, capable of realizing it.

A simple blessing prayer, for the simple ones - this of Jesus (v.25) - which makes us grow in esteem, fits perfectly with our experience, and gets along well with ourselves.

The new ones, the nullities, the voiceless and invisible do not think in terms of doctrine and laws [vv.29-30: unbearable "yoke" that crushes people, and concrete, particular vocations] but in terms of life and humanity.

Thus they enrich the fundamental and spontaneous experience of Faith-Love, satisfying, fulfilling it without mannerisms or intimate forcing.

While the exteriority of the pyramidal world, the distrust of those who want “to count", the anxiety of a competitive society, impoverish the gaze and contaminate the vital wave.

We, too, do not appreciate too much the energy of the 'models', nor the aggressive power of the “big guys”.

Rather than only with the “big” and external, we wish to live by Communion - even with the 'small' self, or there will be no loveliness, no authentic life.

To internalize and live the message:

What do you feel when you are told: «You do not count»? 

Does it remain a humiliating contempt or do you consider it a great Light received, as Jesus did

[Most Sacred Heart of Jesus (year A), June 12, 2026]

(Mt 11:25–30)

God’s broad wisdom is not based on ‘chance’ or ‘measure’

Jesus’s only prayer that is seldom taught

Scientists and the Little Ones: the abstract world and incarnation

(Mt 11:25–27)

‘The world gives credence to the “wise” and the “learned”, whilst God favours the “little ones”. The general teaching that follows is that there are two dimensions of reality: one deeper, true and eternal, the other marked by finitude, transience and appearance’ [Pope Benedict].

God’s broad Reason is not according to ‘fortune’ or ‘measure’

    Commenting on the Tao Te Ching (iv), Master Ho-shang Kung writes:

‘Human desires are sharp and subtle; they strive to appropriate merit and glory. When they are blunted, man masters them, and in imitation of the Way, he does not fill himself.’

The leaders viewed religiosity with self-serving aims. The professors of theology were accustomed to scrutinising every detail based on their own knowledge—ridiculous yet presumptuous—and alien to real-world events.

Jesus found himself at odds even with his own family. Under the cloak and the blackmail of habitual social conventions, they too were subject to the preconceptions of the ‘great ones’ and of the evasive oral tradition, which offered no nourishment to the concrete fabric of human existence.

The Lord observes: even the Apostles are not free people; for this reason, they emancipate no one and indeed prevent any turning point (cf. Lk 9).

Their way of being is so deeply rooted in standard attitudes and obligatory behaviours that it translates into impenetrable mental armour.

Their predictability is too limiting: it offers no breathing space to the journey of those who, on the contrary, wish to re-energise themselves, to discover and appreciate the surprises hidden behind the secret facets of reality and personality.

That which remains bound to ancient customs [or abstractions] and the usual protagonists [or sophisticated pseudo-masters] does not inspire dreams; it is not an apparition or an astonishing witness to the Otherworld; it robs the Proclamation and life of expressive richness.

The Master rejoices in his own experience, which brings a joy that is not superficial and a teaching from the Spirit – to those who are well-disposed and capable of understanding the depths of the Kingdom in ordinary things.

[At a certain point on the spiritual journey, in Christ one realises one must detach oneself from the idolatry of deference: it suffocates and mocks life.

Faith proceeds along the path of the happiness of real men and women, who are instead turned into puppets by a false piety that is entirely exhibitionist or disembodied].

In short, after an initial moment of wild enthusiasm, the Master delves deeper into the themes and finds himself with everyone against him, except God and the least of these: those without weight, but with a great desire to start from scratch.

A glimmer of the Mystery that lifts history – without making it its own.

At the conclusion of the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis cites the figure and experience of Charles de Foucauld, who – by overturning everything – ‘only by identifying with the least did he come to be a brother to all’ (no. 287).

At first, even Jesus is taken aback by the rejection of those who considered themselves already satisfied with the official religious structure and expected nothing more that might dislodge the well-trodden path, stirring up habits (or fantasies) and self-interest.

Then he overcomes his initial surprise: he fully grasps, praises and blesses the Father’s plan, making it his own, drawing it close to himself.

He brings his Secret to full and proper awareness: that the Root of the transformation of being into God’s Unpredictability is concealment, ‘humility’ [(tapeínōsis, ‘lowliness’), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, ‘low’) [v.29; Lk 1:48].

Here the Son knows and understands the core of the Expectations and Promises of the Covenant, and its protagonists (by contrast): the trustworthy Person is born precisely from the lowest depths, not from the ranks of the elites.

In short, Christ intuits the all-encompassing authenticity proper to the weak – a profound impulse, motive, driving force, quintessence and sole energy of the history of salvation.

Transparency of the Eternal One, which stems from a different understanding.

Genesis itself, which upends the established religious relationship, which has at times become inert and ‘reassuring’ – never profound nor decisive for human destinies.

God is simple Relation: he demystifies the idol of greatness.

The Eternal One is no longer the master of creation [He who manifested Himself as strong and peremptory; in His action, even in the ancient Covenant illustrated through the uncontainable powers of nature].

Quite the opposite. In this way, by extension, and also on the spiritual path, the Father does not lead us to alienation, to the hysteria of coercion we do not want, to inner dissociations.

He is Friend and Refreshment who comforts, for He makes us feel whole and lovable; He seeks us by Name, He attends to the language of the heart.

He is Guardian of the world, even of the uneducated – of the ‘infants’ (v.25) spontaneously free from a haughty spirit, that is, of those who do not remain closed off within their self-sufficient sense of belonging.

Already as they are, ‘perfect’ in terms of their mission in the world. Not empty vessels, merely to be re-educated for institutional purposes.

No longer souls to be chiselled according to models.

If anything, hearts to be guided to total awareness; souls to be completed in the sense of the full discovery of themselves, in the opposites of their character and vocational essence.

In this way, the Father-Son relationship is communicated to God’s poor: those endowed with a family-like disposition (v.27).

Capable of living together, yet more autonomous than those who are identified and well-integrated… committed to imitating, in order to be recognised.

The poor remain genuine: what they are; not outward appearances.

Insignificant and invisible, lacking great gifts, yet strangely always filled with another ‘power’.

It is the ‘virtue’ of the frail, who surrender to the proposals of the provident life that is to come, like children in their parents’ arms.

With a spirit of pietas – which favours those who allow themselves to be filled with innate wisdom.

The only reality that corresponds to us and does not ‘present the bill’: it does not proceed along the paths of functional thought or calculating initiative.

Wisdom that conveys freshness in the willingness to receive, welcome and personally renew the Truth as a Gift – and the very spontaneous enthusiasm capable of realising it.

A simple prayer of blessing, for the simple – this one from Jesus (v.25) – which helps us grow in esteem, fits perfectly with our experience, and is in harmony with ourselves; starting from within.

But strangely, the learned ones in the area who do not live ‘the spirit of neighbourliness’ (FT no. 152) yet in the local community claim positions and always play cunning games, have never wanted to pass this on to us.

The newcomers, the nobodies, the voiceless and the invisible do not reason in terms of doctrine and laws – vv. 29–30: an unbearable ‘yoke’ that crushes people and concrete, particular vocations – but in terms of life and humanity.

Thus they enrich the fundamental and spontaneous experience of Faith-Love, fulfilling without affectation or inner strain that ultimately pulls us out of ourselves.

For the outward appearance of the hierarchical world, the mistrust of those who wish to ‘count’, the anxiety of a competitive and superficial society, impoverish our outlook and taint the vital current.

For God’s sake, it is better to ‘count’ for little.

In this way, one must live in Communion, even with the ‘smallness’ of oneself, or there is no authentic life.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you feel when you are told: ‘You don’t count’?

Does a humiliating contempt remain, or do you consider it a great Light received, as Jesus did?

The Yoke upon the Little Ones

Religion turned into an obsession (for the ‘restrained’)

(Mt 11:28-30)

    The rabbis chose their disciples from among those with the greatest intellectual and ascetic abilities. Jesus, however, goes out to seek those outside the circle, the ‘little ones’ (v.25) who did not even have self-esteem.

Even for the rebirth that lies ahead today, Christ has no need of fake phenomena; on the contrary, it is He who frees us from external constraints; He unleashes inner strength (and heals the mind as well). 

Those who know how to receive everything and let go enter into the intimacy of the Mystery of divine life – yet remain true to themselves.

God is not far away, but very near; He is not great, but small: the effective path to becoming intimate with the Father is not to make oneself subservient through effort, but to know how to be a relaxed member of the family.

Only here can we grasp Him at the heart of His revelation: a wise, helpful, united power; for us, just as we are.

The experts of official religion – brimming with self-love and a sense of being chosen – preached a God to be convinced through confident demeanours and artificial, sharp, imperious behaviour.

They allowed neither being nor becoming. Their intransigence was a sign that they did not know the Father.

The Eternal One, transformed into a Controller, had become a source of discrimination and obsession in the private lives of ordinary people, tormented by the insecurity of distinguishing, avoiding and observing, and by pangs of conscience.

Unwilling to live out (and as a class) the conversion they preached to others, the professors failed to realise that they needed to rid themselves of absurd presumptions and become – themselves – pupils of ordinary people.

In short, as children we are ceaselessly invited to build a multifaceted Family, where one is not always on alert.

We are not the subjects of a frowning, aloof – yet manipulative – Lord.

Rather, we are called to a paradoxical choice, both personal and class-based: without coercion, to recognise ourselves and stand alongside the humiliated and oppressed.

This whilst the false piety of the provinces continues to make people carry burdens – precisely those of the oppressed and weary, whose existence has been made more hesitant rather than free; obsessed and heavy, rather than light.

Why? To put it bluntly, the Encyclical Fratelli Tutti would reply:

‘The best way to dominate and advance without limits is to sow a lack of hope and stir up constant mistrust, albeit masked by the defence of certain values’ (no. 15).

In other words: when the authorities and the top of the class lack credibility, only the sowing of fear produces significant conditioning in the people, and keeps them on a leash.

In the wider Church, it is only in the last few decades that we have moved beyond the cliché of moralistic and terrorising sermons (e.g. even during Advent) divorced from a profound sense of humanisation.

The excluded, those crushed and worn down by meaningless obligations, have nevertheless continued to encounter the Saviour openly, finding rest for the soul, conviction, peace, balance and hope.

Instinctively, they have managed to carve out for themselves what no hierarchical religion had ever been able to offer or unfold.

Indeed, the newcomers, the nobodies, the voiceless, the inadequate and the invisible cannot be measured in terms of doctrine and laws, norms and codes – that ancient, unbearable ‘yoke’ (vv. 29–30) which crushes people and concrete vocations; or particular forms of autonomy or community.

In short, no ‘patriarch’ is authorised by God to package our souls, force our directions, and keep a maniacal, perfectionist and meticulous watch over us.

Exacerbating failures across the board.

Everyone has their own innate way of being in the world – even if it is habitual. This is an opportunity for inspiration and enrichment for all.

We ourselves do not wish to exacerbate events by regulating every detail, even ‘spiritual’ ones, based on irritating patterns of surveillance that do not belong to us.

We prefer to let personal ways of facing reality flow freely; thus tracing their essential and spontaneous energies.

We reason according to codes of life and humanisation: temperament, unique history, cultural influences, friendships of broad character. We do not live to prevent.

Only in this way can we enrich the fundamental experience: Love – which does not come from judgements, divisions and separations, but from the Father-Son relationship. The only one that does not irritate.

The root of the transformation of being in God’s Unpredictability is precisely concealment, ‘humility’ [(tapeínōsis, ‘lowliness’), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, ‘low’) [v.29 Greek text; Lk 1:48].

Only those who love strength begin with what is far removed from themselves.

To internalise and live out the message:

In community, do you find yourself more or less free and at peace?

Does your Calling find room to breathe, or do you feel the weight of others’ doubts, judgements, prohibitions and prescriptions?

Do you suffer from a sort of ‘controller’s complex’ imposed by some guide or by yourself?