I Am, and our dignity

(Jn 8:51-59)

The Gospel passage is addressed to the disciples of the Johannine communities who still hesitated to declare themselves fully of Christ.

Hunted and insulted by veterans of Jewish learning, they were founding it difficult to identify the immanence of the Eternal with a simple carpenter.

Christ's dignity cannot be established by comparison with the most celebrated figures of salvation history: his is an eternal being, though he appears [in us] of insufficient figure.

But what he effectively communicates does not only exist in a specific place or at a specific moment in time. So he could not be an instrument for cultural claims.

His Mystery seems difficult to fathom and describe.

To express it briefly, we can refer to the paradoxical reversal of the categories «from up there» and «from down here» (cf. vv.21-30).

His is a spirituality founded on personal Faith that goes beyond the common religious sense.

In whoever keeps united with Him, the Mystery implied becomes light’s creative, yet without pretensions.

As someone who subtly has no beginning and no end, everywhere; even in the daily and modest, but continuous and present.

Although devoid of full-blown fame, if ‘intimates’ to the Lord, we too can become a ‘bridge’ between two worlds - without ostentation.

This teaches us to recognize «his day» (v. 56).

Here Jesus claims the divine condition, ridiculing the knowledge of the experts, position defenders only.

Ancient or new leaders always feel diminished by the sword of the Word in action.

Seed that in those who receive it, make their own and cultivate it, transmits an indestructible power of regeneration.

Word that emanates a perspective, a rejoicing in being; new beginnings, without the cloak of descent or à la page ideas.

Those who want to break free from the land of slavery cherish this Proposal. It emancipates us from the sense of belonging at all costs, and it doesn’t die.

Nor does he capitulate in the face of bygone or glamour power’s pitfalls.

System that despite the great promises, doesn’t give the Eternal's quality of Life; it doesn’t make us Allies.

The Name of God that Jesus attributes to himself indicates that He’s sacrament of enlightenment.

«I Am» is not the attribute of a character to be counted in the gallery of those who have fought and paid for their ideas - fathers in faith and prophets.

The Lord is our Liberator. In him we can say: «I» - with dignity.

Now we are no longer on the leash of the slavery’s land.

We are able to express ourselves. We do not remain pawns of twilights and of narrow districts.

Such an inner Friend ‘does not die’: he also allows us to wander, but ‘knows’ where.

He unerringly ‘guides’ to destination; to the brightness of open horizons, vital because they are still raw, unsophisticated.

We are thus introduced into the knowledge of the One who is by now «coming out» of the Temple (v.59).

With the immeasurable breadth that does not weigh on the heart.

[Thursday 5th wk. in Lent, April 10, 2025]

Controversy over descent (and the abstract world)

(Jn 8:51-59)

The Gospel passage addresses the disciples of the Johannine communities who were still hesitant to declare themselves fully Christ's.

Hunted down and insulted by the veterans of Judaic learning, they found it difficult to identify the immanence of the Eternal with a mere carpenter.

Christ's dignity cannot be established by comparison with the most celebrated figures of salvation history: his is an eternal being, though he appears [in us] of insufficient figure.

But as effectively as he communicates, he does not exist only in a specific place or at a specific moment in time.

So he could not be a tool for contrived cultural claims, nor a means to accentuate elective nationalistic tares.

Its mystery seems difficult to probe and describe.

To express it briefly, we can refer it to the Appeal of precious but unsophisticated life, in the paradoxical reversal of the categories "from up there" and "from down here" (cf. vv.21-30).

His is an earthly spirituality, not an empty one - founded on the creative Love of personal Faith that surpasses the common religious sense.

And in the believer it becomes a vital forge, which becomes a reality, even a summary one; yet continuous, present.

In those who are united to Him, the implied Mystery becomes a new Person, gushing forth, majestic in its modesty; creative with light, yet unpretentious.

Like someone who subtly has no beginning and no end, everywhere.

Although lacking in overt fame, intimate with the Lord, we too can become a bridge between two worlds - without much showiness.

This teaches us to recognise "his day" (v.56).

Here Jesus claims divine status, ridiculing the knowledge of the ancient experts, who were only advocates of position.

And ignorant of their specifics - that is, of life in the Spirit - apart from some vague concordist thinking; partial, apodictic but inadequate, or extravagant.

Leaders old or new always feel diminished by the sword of the Word in action.

Seed that in those who receive it, make it their own and cultivate it, transmits an indestructible power of regeneration.

Word that emanates a perspective, a rejoicing of being; new beginnings, without the cloak of descent or à la page ideas.

He who wants to break free from the land of bondage, cherishes this Proposal. It emancipates us from the sense of belonging at all costs, and does not die.

Nor does it capitulate before the snares of ancient or glamorous power.

A system that despite its great promises does not give the quality of life of the Eternal; it does not make us Allies.

At most it locks us into the bewilderment of devotions, facades, opportunisms, fantasies.

The Name of God that Jesus attributes to Himself indicates that He is a sacrament of enlightenment.

Not a little picture to keep on the bedside table, to send kisses to [to snatch reassurance or position].

This is not the Seal He pours out.

Nor is "I Am" the attribute of a character to be counted in the gallery of those who have fought and paid for their ideas - fathers in the faith and prophets.

The Lord is our Deliverer. In Him we can say "I" with dignity.

This - although as in the Gospel passage, the snobs or the old (and logical) slickers of the worldly quarters consider the true believers to be deranged and demented.

Those who follow them unfortunately remain on the leash of the land of bondage and fail to express themselves; they remain pawns of twilight, of narrow quarters.

Such a follower will not err "track" or "manners"... only by fixed and aligned opinion.

Instead, the Inner Friend does not die: he also allows us to wander, but he knows where.

He guides infallibly to the destination.

He leads from the experience of stylistic and doctrinal hoods, all noble and out of phase, to the luminosity of open horizons, vital because they are still raw, unsophisticated.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (xix): 'Omit holiness and repudiate wisdom, and the people will gain a hundred doubles'.

Master Ho-shang Kung comments: 'Omit the regulating and creating of saints [...] return to non-acting [according to intentions or dirigisme] [...] The activities of agriculture develop the sense of community without selfishness'.

The Lord blesses and approves. Presence always unseen, deployed in every spark and distracted by manipulation.

Thus prompting one to cross conditioning cliques, and every threshold - to access further experiences of self, group, God, and neighbour outside, which becomes intimate.

Projected beyond the sacred enclosure reduced to a swamp, on the wave of his Word related to events we are introduced into the knowledge of the One who now comes out of the Temple (v.59).

From traditional or chic religiosity to personal faith.

With the boundless breadth of concrete and sovereign Abode, always successive, not weighing on the heart.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you live the "If anyone keeps my Word, he will never see death"? 

What about your relationship with those who feel they are specialised doctors?

Joy and Hope, or abstract world

"In the two readings" proposed by the liturgy today, the Pontiff was quick to point out in his homily, "there is talk of time, of eternity, of years, of the future, of the past" (Genesis 17:3-9 and John 8:51-59). So much so that precisely 'time seems to be the most important reality in the liturgical message of this Thursday'. But Francis preferred 'to take another word' which, he suggested, 'I believe is precisely the message in the Church today'. And they are the words of Jesus reported by the evangelist John: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day; he saw it and was filled with joy".

So today's central message is 'the joy of hope, the joy of trust in God's promise, the joy of fruitfulness'. Precisely "Abraham, in the time of which the first reading speaks, was ninety-nine years old and the Lord appeared to him and assured the covenant" with these words: "As for me, behold, my covenant is with you: you will become a father".

Abraham, Francis recalled, "had a son of twelve, thirteen years old: Ishmael". But God assures him that he will become "father of a multitude of nations". And "he changes his name". He then "goes on and asks him to be faithful to the covenant" saying: "I will establish my covenant with you and with your descendants and after you from generation to generation, as an everlasting covenant". Basically, God tells Abraham 'I give you everything, I give you time: I give you everything, you will be a father'.

Surely Abraham, the Pope said, 'was happy about this, he was full of consolation' on hearing the Lord's promise: 'Within a year you will have another son'. Of course, at those words 'Abraham laughed, the Bible says later: but how, at a hundred years a son?'. Yes, "he had begotten Ishmael at the age of eighty-seven, but at a hundred years a son is too much, you cannot understand!" And so he "laughed". But precisely "that smile, that laughter was the beginning of Abraham's joy". Here, then, is the meaning of Jesus' words re-proposed today by the Pope as the central message: 'Abraham, your father, rejoiced in hope'. In fact, "he dared not believe and said to the Lord: 'But what if at least Ishmael lived in your presence?'". He received this reply: "No, it will not be Ishmael. It will be another'.

For Abraham, therefore, "joy was full," said the Pope. But "even his wife Sarah laughed a little later: she was a little hidden, behind the curtains of the entrance, listening to what the men were saying". And 'when these envoys of God told Abraham the news about his son, she too laughed'. This, Francis reiterated, is 'the beginning of Abraham's great joy'. Yes, "the great joy: he exulted in the hope of seeing this day; he saw it and was filled with joy". And the Pope invited us to look at "this beautiful icon: Abraham who stood before God, who prostrated himself with his face to the ground: he heard this promise and opened his heart to hope and was full of joy".

And precisely "this is what these doctors of the law did not understand," Francis remarked. "They did not understand the joy of the promise; they did not understand the joy of hope; they did not understand the joy of the covenant. They did not understand." And "they did not know how to rejoice, because they had lost the sense of joy that, alone, comes from faith". Instead, the Pope explained, "our father Abraham was able to rejoice because he had faith: he was made righteous in faith". For their part, those doctors of the law "had lost faith: they were doctors of the law, but without faith!". But "more: they had lost the law! For the centre of the law is love, love for God and for one's neighbour". They, however, "had only a system of precise doctrines, which they made more precise every day that no one touched them".

They were 'men without faith, without law, attached to doctrines that also became a casuistic attitude'. And Francis also offered concrete examples: "You can pay tax to Caesar, can't you? This woman, who has been married seven times, when she goes to heaven will she be the wife of those seven?" And "this casuistry was their world: an abstract world, a world without love, a world without faith, a world without hope, a world without trust, a world without God". Precisely "for this reason they could not rejoice".

And they did not rejoice even if they had some party to enjoy themselves: so much so that, the Pope said, they must surely have "uncorked a few bottles when Jesus was condemned". But always 'without joy', indeed 'with fear because one of them, perhaps while they were drinking', must have remembered the promise 'that he would rise again'. And so "immediately, with fear, they went to the procurator to say 'please take care of this, let there be no trick'". All this because "they were afraid".

But 'this is life without faith in God, without trust in God, without hope in God', the Pope said again. "The life of these," he added, "only when they realised they were not right" did they think there was only the way left to take the stones to stone Jesus. "Their hearts were petrified". In fact, "it is sad to be a believer without joy," Francis explained, "and joy is not there when there is no faith, when there is no hope, when there is no law, but only prescriptions, cold doctrine. This is what applies'. In contrast, the Pope re-proposed "the joy of Abraham, that beautiful gesture of Abraham's smile" when he heard the promise to have "a son when he is a hundred years old". And "also Sarah's smile, a smile of hope". Because 'the joy of faith, the joy of the Gospel is the touchstone of a person's faith: without joy that person is not a true believer'.

In conclusion, Francis invited people to make Jesus' words their own: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day; he saw it and was filled with joy". And he asked "the Lord for the grace to be exultant in hope, the grace to be able to see the day of Jesus when we are with Him and the grace of joy."

[Pope Francis, s Marta, in L'Osservatore Romano 27/03/2015].

Hope is the expectation of something positive in the future, yet at the same time it must sustain our present existence, which is often marked by dissatisfaction and failures. On what is our hope founded? Looking at the history of the people of Israel, recounted in the Old Testament, we see one element that constantly emerges, especially in times of particular difficulty like the time of the Exile, an element found especially in the writings of the prophets, namely remembrance of God’s promises to the Patriarchs: a remembrance that invites us to imitate the exemplary attitude of Abraham, who, as Saint Paul reminds us, “believed, hoping against hope, that he would become ‘the father of many nations,’ according to what was said, ‘Thus shall your descendants be’" (Rom 4:18). One consoling and enlightening truth which emerges from the whole of salvation history, then, is God’s faithfulness to the covenant that he entered into, renewing it whenever man infringed it through infidelity and sin, from the time of the flood (cf. Gen 8:21-22) to that of the Exodus and the journey through the desert (cf. Dt 9:7). That same faithfulness led him to seal the new and eternal covenant with man, through the blood of his Son, who died and rose again for our salvation.

At every moment, especially the most difficult ones, the Lord’s faithfulness is always the authentic driving force of salvation history, which arouses the hearts of men and women and confirms them in the hope of one day reaching the “promised land”. This is where we find the sure foundation of every hope: God never abandons us and he remains true to his word. For that reason, in every situation, whether positive or negative, we can nourish a firm hope and pray with the psalmist: “Only in God can my soul find rest; my hope comes from him” (Ps 62:6). To have hope, therefore, is the equivalent of trusting in God who is faithful, who keeps the promises of the covenant. Faith and hope, then, are closely related. “Hope” in fact is a key word in biblical faith, to the extent that in certain passages the words “faith” and “hope” seem to be interchangeable. In this way, the Letter to the Hebrews makes a direct connection between the “unwavering profession of hope” (10:23) and the “fullness of faith” (10:22). Similarly, when the First Letter of Saint Peter exhorts the Christians to be always ready to give an account of the “logos” – the meaning and rationale – of their hope (cf. 3:15), “hope” is the equivalent of “faith” (Spe Salvi, 2).

Dear Brothers and Sisters, what exactly is God’s faithfulness, to which we adhere with unwavering hope? It is his love! He, the Father, pours his love into our innermost self through the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 5:5). And this love, fully manifested in Jesus Christ, engages with our existence and demands a response in terms of what each individual wants to do with his or her life, and what he or she is prepared to offer in order to live it to the full. The love of God sometimes follows paths one could never have imagined, but it always reaches those who are willing to be found. Hope is nourished, then, by this certainty: “We ourselves have known and believed in the love that God has for us” (1 Jn 4:16). This deep, demanding love, which penetrates well below the surface, gives us courage; it gives us hope in our life’s journey and in our future; it makes us trust in ourselves, in history and in other people. I want to speak particularly to the young and I say to you once again: “What would your life be without this love? God takes care of men and women from creation to the end of time, when he will bring his plan of salvation to completion. In the Risen Lord we have the certainty of our hope!” (Address to Young People of the Diocese of San Marino-Montefeltro, 19 June 2011).

Just as he did during his earthly existence, so today the risen Jesus walks along the streets of our life and sees us immersed in our activities, with all our desires and our needs. In the midst of our everyday circumstances he continues to speak to us; he calls us to live our life with him, for only he is capable of satisfying our thirst for hope. He lives now among the community of disciples that is the Church, and still today calls people to follow him. The call can come at any moment. Today too, Jesus continues to say, “Come, follow me” (Mk 10:21). Accepting his invitation means no longer choosing our own path. Following him means immersing our own will in the will of Jesus, truly giving him priority, giving him pride of place in every area of our lives: in the family, at work, in our personal interests, in ourselves. It means handing over our very lives to Him, living in profound intimacy with Him, entering through Him into communion with the Father in the Holy Spirit, and consequently with our brothers and sisters. This communion of life with Jesus is the privileged “setting” in which we can experience hope and in which life will be full and free! 

[Pope Benedict, Message for the L World Day of Prayer for Vocations, 21 April 2013]

Christ says: "Before Abraham was, I am" (John 8:58). He does not say: "I was", but "I am", that is, from everlasting, in an eternal present. The Apostle John in the prologue of his Gospel writes: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God: all things were made through him, and without him nothing was made of all that exists" (John 1:1-3). So that 'before Abraham', in the context of Jesus' polemic with the heirs of Israel's tradition, who appealed to Abraham, means: 'well before Abraham' and is illuminated by the words of the prologue of the Fourth Gospel: 'in the beginning was with God', that is, in the eternity proper to God alone: in the eternity shared with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Indeed, the Quicumque Symbol proclaims: "And in this Trinity nothing is before or after, nothing greater or less, but all three persons are coeternal and coequal with one another."

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 6 November 1985].

1. "I believe . . . in Jesus Christ, his (God the Father's) only Son, our Lord; who was conceived of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary". The cycle of catechesis on Jesus Christ, which we develop here, makes constant reference to the truth expressed in the words of the Apostles' Creed, now quoted. They present Christ to us as true God - Son of the Father - and, at the same time, as true Man, Son of the Virgin Mary. The previous catecheses have already enabled us to approach this fundamental truth of the faith. Now, however, we must seek to deepen its essential content: we must ask ourselves what true God and true Man mean. This is a reality that is revealed before the eyes of our faith through the self-revelation of God in Jesus Christ. And since it - like every other revealed truth - can only be rightly accepted through faith, what is at issue here is the 'rationabile obsequium fidei', the reasonable obedience of faith. The next catecheses, which focus on the mystery of the God Man, are intended to foster such faith.

2. We have already noted above that Jesus Christ often spoke of himself, using the title "son of man" (cf. Mt 16:28; Mk 2:28). Such a title was connected with the messianic tradition of the Old Testament, and at the same time responded to that "pedagogy of faith" to which Jesus deliberately resorted. For he wanted his disciples and listeners to come to the discovery on their own that the 'son of man' was at the same time the true Son of God. We have a particularly significant demonstration of this in Simon Peter's profession, which took place in the vicinity of Caesarea Philippi, to which we have already referred in the previous catecheses. Jesus provokes the apostles with questions and when Peter comes to the explicit recognition of his divine identity, he confirms his testimony by calling him "blessed because neither flesh nor blood has revealed it to him, but the Father" (cf. Mt 16:17). It is the Father, who bears witness to the Son, because he alone knows the Son (cf. Mt 11:27).

3. Nevertheless, in spite of the discretion to which Jesus adhered in application of that pedagogical principle of which we have spoken, the truth of his divine filiation became more and more evident by what he said, and particularly by what he did. But while for some it was an object of faith, for others it was a cause of contradiction and accusation. This manifested itself in definitive form during the trial before the Sanhedrin. The Gospel of Mark recounts (Mk 14:61-62): "The high priest questioned him, saying, 'Are you the Christ, the blessed Son of God?' Jesus answered, 'I am! And you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming with the clouds of heaven'". In the Gospel of Luke (Lk 22:70) the question is formulated as follows: "'Are you then the son of God?' He answered them: 'You say so yourselves: I am'".

4. The reaction of those present is unanimous: "He has blasphemed! . . . you have heard the blasphemy . . . He is guilty of death!" (Matthew 26: 65-66). This accusation is, so to speak, the result of a material interpretation of the ancient law.

Indeed, we read in the Book of Leviticus: "Whoever blasphemes the name of the Lord shall be put to death: the whole community shall stone him" (Lev 24:16). Jesus of Nazareth, who before the official representatives of the Old Testament claims to be the true Son of God, pronounces - according to their conviction - blasphemy. He is therefore 'guilty of death' and the sentence is carried out, though not by stoning according to Old Testament discipline, but by crucifixion, according to Roman law. Calling himself "Son of God" meant "making himself God" (cf. Jn 10:33), which provoked a radical protest from the guardians of Old Testament monotheism.

5. What eventually came to pass in the trial brought against Jesus had in fact already been threatened earlier, as the Gospels, particularly that of John, report. We read there more than once that the listeners wanted to stone Jesus, when what they had heard from his mouth sounded to them like blasphemy. They found such blasphemy, for example, in his words on the subject of the Good Shepherd (cf. John 10: 27, 29), and in the conclusion he came to on that occasion: "I and the Father are one" (John 10: 30). The Gospel account continues: "The Jews again brought stones to stone him. Jesus answered them, "I have shown you many good works from my Father; for which of them do you wish to stone me?" The Jews answered him, 'We do not stone you for a good work, but for blasphemy, and because you, who are man, make yourself God'" (Jn 10:31-33).

6. Similar was the reaction to these other words of Jesus: "Before Abraham was, I Am" (Jn 8:58). Here too Jesus was faced with an identical question and accusation: "Who do you claim to be?" (Jn 8:53), and the answer to that question resulted in the threat of stoning (Jn 8:59).

It is therefore clear that, although Jesus spoke of himself above all as the "son of man", nevertheless the whole of what he did and taught bore witness that he was the Son of God in the literal sense of the word: that is, that he was with the Father one, and therefore: as the Father, so also was he God. Proof of the unambiguous content of this testimony is the fact that he was recognised and accepted by some: "many believed in him": (cf. e.g. Jn 8:30); and, even more, the fact that he found in others radical opposition, indeed the accusation of blasphemy with the disposition to inflict on him the punishment, provided for blasphemers by the Old Testament Law.

7. Among Christ's statements on this subject, the expression: "I Am" appears particularly significant. The context in which it is pronounced indicates that Jesus here recalls the answer given to Moses by God himself, when he is asked about his name: "I am he who am . You shall say to the Israelites: I am he that sent me to you" (Ex 3:14). Now, Christ uses the same expression "I Am" in very significant contexts. The one mentioned, concerning Abraham; "Before Abraham was, 'I Am': but not only that. Thus, for example: "If . . . you do not believe that I Am, you will die in your sins" (Jn 8:24). And again: "When you have lifted up the son of man, then you will know that I Am" (Jn 8:28), and further: "I tell you this now, before it happens, so that, when it has happened, you may believe that 'I Am'" (Jn 13:19).

This "I Am" is also found in other places in the Synoptic Gospels (e.g. Mt 28:20; Lk 24:39); but in the statements quoted above, the use of God's name, proper to the Book of Exodus, appears particularly clear and firm. Christ speaks of his paschal "elevation" through the cross and subsequent resurrection: "Then you will know that I Am". Which means: then it will be fully evident that I am the one to whom the name of God belongs. With such an expression Jesus therefore indicates that he is the true God. And even before the passion he prays to the Father like this: "All things that are mine are yours and all things that are yours are mine" (Jn 17:10), which is another way of saying: "I and the Father are one" (Jn 10:30).

Before Christ, the Word of God incarnate, let us also join Peter and repeat with the same transport of faith: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16, 16)

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 26 August 1987].

1. In the previous catechesis we paid particular attention to those statements in which Christ speaks of himself using the expression "I Am". The context in which these statements appear, especially in the Gospel of John, allows us to think that, in resorting to this expression, Jesus refers to the Name by which the God of the ancient covenant qualifies himself before Moses, when entrusting him with the mission to which he is called: "I am he who am . You shall say to the Israelites: I am he who sent me to you" (Ex 3:14).

Jesus speaks of himself in this way, for example in the discussion about Abraham: "Before Abraham was, I Am" (John 8: 58). Already this expression allows us to understand that "the Son of Man" bears witness to his divine pre-existence. And such a statement does not stand alone.

2. More than once Christ speaks of the mystery of his Person, and the most succinct expression seems to be this: "I came forth from the Father and have come into the world; now I leave the world again, and go to the Father" (John 16: 28). Jesus addresses these words to the apostles in his farewell discourse on the eve of the Easter events. They clearly indicate that before "coming" into the world, Christ "was" with the Father as Son. They thus indicate his pre-existence in God. Jesus makes it clear that his earthly existence cannot be separated from this pre-existence in God. Without it his personal reality cannot be correctly understood.

3. Similar expressions are numerous. When Jesus mentions his coming from the Father into the world, his words usually refer to his divine pre-existence. This is particularly clear in the Gospel of John. Jesus says before Pilate: "For this I was born, and for this I came into the world: to bear witness to the truth" (John 18: 37); and perhaps it is not without significance that Pilate later asks Him: "Where are you from?" (John 19: 9). And before that we read: "My testimony is true, because I know where I come from and where I am going" (Jn 8:14). Regarding that "where are you from?" in the nocturnal conversation with Nicodemus we can hear a significant statement: "No one has ever ascended into heaven except the Son of Man who came down from heaven" (Jn 3:13). This "coming" from heaven, from the Father, indicates the divine "pre-existence" of Christ also in relation to his "departure": "What if you saw the Son of Man ascend to where he was before?" - Jesus asks in the context of the "Eucharistic discourse" near Capernaum (cf. Jn 6:62).

4. Jesus' entire earthly existence as Messiah results from that "before" and is reconnected to it as to a fundamental "dimension" according to which the Son is "one" with the Father. How eloquent in this respect are the words of the "priestly prayer" in the Upper Room: "I have glorified you above the earth, doing the work that you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me before thee with that glory which I had with thee before the world was" (John 17: 4-5).

The Synoptic Gospels also speak in many places of the "coming" of the Son of Man for the salvation of the world (cf. e.g. Lk 19:10; Mk 10:45; Mt 20:28); however, John's texts contain a particularly clear reference to the pre-existence of Christ.

5. The fullest synthesis of this truth is contained in the Prologue of the Fourth Gospel. It can be said that in that text the truth about the divine pre-existence of the Son of Man acquires a further, in a certain sense definitive explication: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God: all things were made through him . . . In him was life, and the life was the light of men; the light shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not receive it" (Jn 1:1-5).

In these phrases the evangelist confirms what Jesus said of himself when he declared: "I came forth from the Father and have come into the world" (Jn 16:28), or when he prayed that the Father would glorify him with that glory that he had taken of him before the world was (cf. Jn 17:5). At the same time, the pre-existence of the Son in the Father is closely connected with the revelation of the Trinitarian mystery of God: the Son is the eternal Word, he is "God from God", of the same substance as the Father (as the Council of Nicaea expressed it in the Symbol of Faith). The Council formula precisely reflects John's Prologue: "The Word was with God and the Word was God". Affirming the pre-existence of Christ in the Father is tantamount to recognising his Divinity. To his substance, as to the substance of the Father, belongs eternity. This is what is indicated by the reference to the eternal pre-existence in the Father.

6. John's Prologue, through the revelation of the truth about the Word contained therein, constitutes as it does the definitive completion of what the Old Testament had already said about Wisdom. See, for example, the following statements: "Before the ages, from the beginning he created me; for all eternity I shall not fail" (Sir 24:9), "My creator pitched my tent and said to me: pitch your tent in Jacob" (Sir 24:8). Wisdom, of whom the Old Testament speaks, is a creature and at the same time has attributes that place her above the whole of creation: "Though unique, she can do all things; though remaining in herself, she renews all things" (Wis 7:27).

The truth about the Word, contained in John's Prologue, reconfirms in a certain sense the revelation about wisdom in the Old Testament, and at the same time transcends it in a definitive way. The Word not only 'is with God', but 'is God'. Coming into this world in the person of Jesus Christ, the Word "came among his own people", for "the world was made through him" (cf. Jn 1:10-11). He came among "his own" because he is "the true light, the one who enlightens every man" (cf. Jn 1:9). The self-revelation of God in Jesus Christ consists in this "coming" into the world of the Word, who is the eternal Son.

7. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us; and we beheld his glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth" (Jn 1:14). Let us say it once again: John's Prologue is the eternal echo of the words with which Jesus says: "I came forth from the Father and have come into the world" (Jn 16:28), and of those with which he prays that the Father will glorify him with that glory that he had with him before the world was (cf. Jn 17:5). The Evangelist has before his eyes the Old Testament revelation about Wisdom, and at the same time the whole Paschal event: the departure through the cross and the resurrection, in which the truth about Christ, Son of Man and true God, became completely clear to those who were his eyewitnesses.

8. In close connection with the revelation of the Word, that is, with the divine pre-existence of Christ, the truth about Emmanuel is also confirmed. This word - which in literal translation means "God with us" - expresses a particular and personal presence of God in the world. That "I am" of Christ manifests precisely this presence already foretold by Isaiah (cf. Is 7:14), proclaimed in the wake of the prophet in Matthew's Gospel (cf. Mt 1:23), and confirmed in John's Prologue: "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1:14). The language of the evangelists is multiform, but the truth they express is the same. In the synoptics, Jesus pronounces his "I am with you" particularly in difficult moments (e.g. Mt 14:27; Mk 6:50; Jn 6:20), at the time of the calmed storm, as well as in the perspective of the apostolic mission of the Church: "Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the world" (Mt 28:20).

9. Christ's expression: "I came forth from the Father and am in the world" (Jn 16:28) contains a salvific, soteriological meaning. All the evangelists manifest it. The Prologue of John expresses it in the words: "To those who . . . received him (the Word), he gave power to become children of God", that is, the possibility of being begotten of God (cf. Jn 1:12-13).

This is the central truth of all Christian soteriology, organically connected with the revealed reality of the God-Man. God became man, so that man could truly participate in God's life, could indeed become, in a certain sense, God himself. The early Fathers of the Church were already clearly aware of this. Suffice it to recall St Irenaeus, who, exhorting people to follow Christ, the only true and sure teacher, stated. "Through his immense love he made himself what we are, to give us the possibility of being what he is" (cf. St Irenaeus, Adversus haereses, V, Praef.: PG 7, 1120).

This truth opens up boundless horizons for us, in which to situate the concrete expression of our Christian life, in the light of faith in Christ, Son of God, Word of the Father.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 2 September 1987]

"In the two readings" proposed by the liturgy today, the Pontiff immediately pointed out in his homily, "there is talk of time, of eternity, of years, of the future, of the past" (Genesis 17: 3-9 and John 8: 51-59). So much so that precisely 'time seems to be the most important reality in the liturgical message of this Thursday'. But Francis preferred 'to take another word' which, he suggested, 'I believe is precisely the message in the Church today'. And they are the words of Jesus reported by the evangelist John: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day; he saw it and was filled with joy".

So today's central message is 'the joy of hope, the joy of trust in God's promise, the joy of fruitfulness'. Precisely "Abraham, at the time of which the first reading speaks, was ninety-nine years old and the Lord appeared to him and assured the covenant" with these words: "As for me, behold, my covenant is with you: you will become a father".

Abraham, Francis recalled, "had a son of twelve, thirteen years old: Ishmael". But God assures him that he will become "father of a multitude of nations". And "he changes his name". He then "goes on and asks him to be faithful to the covenant" saying: "I will establish my covenant with you and with your descendants and after you from generation to generation, as an everlasting covenant". Basically, God tells Abraham 'I give you everything, I give you time: I give you everything, you will be a father'.

Surely Abraham, the Pope said, 'was happy about this, he was full of consolation' on hearing the Lord's promise: 'Within a year you will have another son'. Of course, at those words 'Abraham laughed, the Bible says later: but how, at a hundred years a son?'. Yes, "he had begotten Ishmael at the age of eighty-seven, but at a hundred years a son is too much, you cannot understand!" And so he "laughed". But precisely "that smile, that laughter was the beginning of Abraham's joy". Here, then, is the meaning of Jesus' words re-proposed today by the Pope as the central message: 'Abraham, your father, rejoiced in hope'. In fact, "he dared not believe and said to the Lord: 'But what if at least Ishmael lived in your presence?'". He received this reply: "No, it will not be Ishmael. It will be another'.

For Abraham, therefore, "joy was full," said the Pope. But "even his wife Sarah laughed a little later: she was a little hidden, behind the curtains of the entrance, listening to what the men were saying". And 'when these envoys of God told Abraham the news about his son, she too laughed'. This, Francis reiterated, is 'the beginning of Abraham's great joy'. Yes, "the great joy: he exulted in the hope of seeing this day; he saw it and was filled with joy". And the Pope invited us to look at "this beautiful icon: Abraham who stood before God, who prostrated himself with his face to the ground: he heard this promise and opened his heart to hope and was full of joy".

And precisely "this is what these doctors of the law did not understand," Francis remarked. "They did not understand the joy of the promise; they did not understand the joy of hope; they did not understand the joy of the covenant. They did not understand." And "they did not know how to rejoice, because they had lost the sense of joy that, alone, comes from faith". Instead, the Pope explained, "our father Abraham was able to rejoice because he had faith: he was made righteous in faith". For their part, those doctors of the law "had lost faith: they were doctors of the law, but without faith!". But "more: they had lost the law! For the centre of the law is love, love for God and for one's neighbour". They, however, "had only a system of precise doctrines, which they made more precise every day that no one touched them".

They were 'men without faith, without law, attached to doctrines that also became a casuistic attitude'. And Francis also offered concrete examples: "You can pay tax to Caesar, can't you? This woman, who has been married seven times, when she goes to heaven will she be the wife of those seven?" And "this casuistry was their world: an abstract world, a world without love, a world without faith, a world without hope, a world without trust, a world without God". Precisely "for this reason they could not rejoice".

And they did not rejoice even if they had some party to enjoy themselves: so much so that, the Pope said, they must surely have "uncorked a few bottles when Jesus was condemned". But always 'without joy', indeed 'with fear because one of them, perhaps while they were drinking', must have remembered the promise 'that he would rise again'. And so "immediately, with fear, they went to the procurator to say 'please take care of this, let there be no trick'". All this because "they were afraid".

But 'this is life without faith in God, without trust in God, without hope in God,' the Pope said again. "The life of these," he added, "that only when they understood that they were not right" did they think that the only way left was to take the stones to stone Jesus. "Their hearts were petrified". Indeed, 'it is sad to be a believer without joy,' Francis explained, 'and joy is not there when there is no faith, when there is no hope, when there is no law, but only prescriptions, cold doctrine. This is what applies'. In contrast, the Pope re-proposed "the joy of Abraham, that beautiful gesture of Abraham's smile" when he heard the promise to have "a son when he is a hundred years old". And "also Sarah's smile, a smile of hope". Because 'the joy of faith, the joy of the Gospel is the touchstone of a person's faith: without joy that person is not a true believer'.

In conclusion, Francis invited people to make Jesus' words their own: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day; he saw it and was filled with joy". And he asked "the Lord for the grace to be exultant in hope, the grace to be able to see the day of Jesus when we are with Him, and the grace of joy."

[Pope Francis, st Marta, in L'Osservatore Romano 27/03/2015]

5th Sunday in Lent (year C) [6 April 2025]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Tomorrow, Wednesday 2 April, will be the 20th anniversary of the death of St John Paul II. We remember him in prayer, invoking his protection and intercession.

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Isaiah (43:16-21)

At first glance, this text consists of two mutually contradictory parts: the first is a reference to the past, to leaving Egypt, while in the second, the prophet exhorts us to leave the past behind. But which past is it? Let us try to better understand by examining these two parts one after the other. The incipit is as always solemn: "Thus says the Lord" to introduce words of great importance which are immediately followed by the reference to the famous passage in the sea, the miracle of the Sea of Rushes during the Hebrews' flight from Egypt: "The Lord opened a way in the sea and a path in the midst of mighty waters". The reference to the memorable night of the deliverance from Egypt narrated in chapter 14 of the book of Exodus always returns. In the first reading, Isaiah offers further details: "the Lord brought forth chariots and horses, army and heroes at once, and they all lay dead and never rose again, they went out like a lamp. God saved his people by destroying the Egyptians and it is interesting to note that Isaiah uses the name 'Lord' (the Tetragrammaton YHVH), a name that qualifies the God of Sinai as the deliverer of his people. Here is God's work in the past that constitutes the source of hope for Israel's future, and Isaiah points out: 'Behold, I do a new thing'. To understand what this is all about and to whom the prophet foretells a new world, we need to go back to the historical context. The deuteroIsaiah, whom we are reading here, lived in the 6th century BC, during the exile in Babylon (from 587 to 538 BC), a period marked by a terrible trial: deported to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, who had defeated the small kingdom of Judah of which Jerusalem was the capital, the Jews hoped one day to escape from Babylon, but there were serious difficulties because they had to cross the Syrian desert, hundreds of kilometres long and in terrible conditions for fugitives. The prophet therefore has the difficult task of restoring courage to his contemporaries: he does so in this book called the Book of the Consolation of Israel, because chapter 40 begins: 'Console, console my people, says your God'. And when he says: 'your God' he recalls the Covenant that was never broken because God did not abandon them. In fact, one of the formulas of the Covenant was: 'You shall be my people and I will be your God' and whenever the expression my God or your God is echoed, the possessive is an encouraging reminder of the Covenant and, at the same time, a profession of faith. Isaiah intends to keep the exiles' hope alive by reminding them that God has not only not abandoned them, on the contrary, he is already preparing their return to their homeland. Nothing can be seen yet, but it will happen and why is it certain? Because God is faithful to his Covenant and since he chose this people he has never ceased to deliver them and keep them alive, through all the vicissitudes of their history. He has freed them from Pharaoh; he has protected them all along the way; he made them pass through the sea dry when they came out of Egypt.Israel's hope thus rests on its past: this is the meaning of the word 'memorial', constant remembrance of God's work that continues today, and from this we derive the certainty that it will continue into the future. Past, present, future: God is always present alongside his people. This is one of the meanings of God's name: 'I am', that is, I am with you in all circumstances. And precisely during the difficult period of exile, when there was the risk of giving in to despair, Isaiah develops a new metaphor, that of the sprout: "Behold, I am doing a new thing: right now I am sprouting, do you not notice?" Starting from the extraordinary experience of a tiny seed capable of becoming a great tree, it is easy to understand how the word "sprout" has become in Israel and today for us a symbol of hope, and it is important to learn to recognise the sprouts of the new world, the Kingdom that God is building.

*Responsorial Psalm [125 (126)]

 This psalm echoes the first reading, where the prophet Isaiah announces the return of the people exiled in Babylon and sings of this miracle just as the Jews had sung of the prodigy of the exit from Egypt. These are the events: in 587 BC. Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, had conquered Jerusalem and deported the population, but, in turn, was defeated by Cyrus, king of Persia well known for his successes. Nebuchadnezzar's troops pillaged, plundered, raped, massacred and devastated, systematically deporting the population. Cyrus, on the other hand, adopted a completely different policy: he preferred to rule over prosperous peoples and allowed all deported populations to return to their homelands by providing the means to do so. And so, having conquered Babylon in 539 B.C., he allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem as early as 538 B.C., also granting them economic aid and even returning the objects looted from the Temple by Nebuchadnezzar's soldiers.

The psalm does not say 'when the king of Persia Cyrus restored the lot of Zion' but 'when the Lord restored the lot of Zion', a way of affirming that God remains the Lord of history who pulls all the strings and therefore there is no other god - again a nod to the fight against idolatry. This psalm, probably written long after the return from exile, evokes the joy and excitement of liberation and return. How many times during exile did one dream of this moment! When it was realised, one almost dared not believe it: 'When the Lord restored the lot of Zion, it seemed to us as if we were dreaming ... our mouths were filled with a smile, our tongues with joy'.  One even imagines that the other peoples are also amazed by this miracle: "Then it was said among the nations: 'The Lord has done great things for them'. In this sentence, two elements emerge: an infinite gratitude for the gratuitousness of God's choice and the chosen people's awareness of having been chosen for the world: their vocation is to be witnesses of God's work, an awareness matured precisely during exile. In the psalm, astonishment at God's choice is expressed with the words: 'great things', that is, God's work of deliverance, particularly the liberation from Egypt. Words like feat, work, great things, wonders, which are often found in the psalms, are always a reference to the Exodus. Here, a new work of God's deliverance is added: the end of the exile experienced by the people as a true resurrection. To express this, the psalmist uses two images: The streams in the desert: "Restore, Lord, our lot, like the streams in the Negheb", desert south of Jerusalem, where myriads of flowers bloom in spring. The other image is the seed: 'he who sows in tears, will reap in joy'. the sown grain seems to rot and die... but when the ears sprout, it is like a rebirth, an eloquent image because the return of the exiles meant a true rebirth for the land as well. A final observation: when the return from the Babylonian exile is sung in this psalm, it had already taken place a long time ago, but Israel does not speak of the past just to recount it, but to communicate a message and a teaching for the future: this return to life, historically placed, becomes a reason to hope for other future resurrections and deliverances. Every year, during the Feast of Tents in the autumn, this song was sung during the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. As the pilgrims ascend, they sing of the deliverance that has already taken place and pray to God to hasten the day of final deliverance, when the promised Messiah will appear. Even today, there are many places of slavery, many 'Egypt' and 'Babylon'. This is what we think of when we sing: "Restore, Lord, our lot like the streams in the Negheb", asking for the grace to collaborate with all our strength in the work of liberation inaugurated by the Messiah, in order to hasten the day when the whole of humanity can sing: "Great things the Lord has done for us".

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Philippians (3:8-14)

 St Paul uses the image of running, and we know how important the goal and the desire to reach it is for every person. Here the Apostle speaks of himself: "I know only this: forgetting what lies behind me and reaching out to what lies ahead, I run towards the goal, to the prize that God calls us to receive up there in Christ Jesus. To run towards this same goal and obtain the promised prize, one must turn one's back on many things, as St Paul did when he felt conquered by Christ. The Greek verb he uses (katalambano) means to grasp, to seize, to take by force, and expresses the way in which he was completely transformed from a persecutor of Christians into an apostle of the gospel (Acts.9) when Christ literally took possession of him on the road to Damascus. St Paul presents his Christian faith as a natural continuation of his Jewish faith because Christ fully realises the expectations of the Old Testament by ensuring its continuity with the New Testament. Here, however, he insists on the newness that Jesus Christ brings: 'I consider everything to be a loss because of the sublimity of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. The knowledge of Christ brings radical newness because one truly becomes a 'new creature', as he writes in his second letter to the Corinthians, which we read last Sunday (2 Cor 5:17-21). Now he says it in another way: "For him I have given up all these things and consider them rubbish in order to gain Christ and be found in him". In other words: what previously appeared important in my eyes, that is, an advantage and a privilege, I now reject altogether. The advantages of which he speaks were the pride of belonging to the people of Israel, the faith and unshakeable hope of that people, the assiduous and scrupulous practice of all the commandments that he calls obedience to the law of Moses. But now Jesus Christ has taken all the space in his life and he possesses the greatest good, the only true wealth in the world, the true treasure of human existence: to know Christ. Knowing in biblical language does not mean intellectual knowledge but living in intimacy with someone, loving him and sharing his life. Paul insists on this bond with Christ because in the community of Philippi some Christians of Jewish origin wanted to impose circumcision on all Christians before baptism and this created great division as we read in the second reading of the second Sunday of Lent. This issue was resolved by the Apostles at the First Council in Jerusalem by affirming that in the New Covenant, the Law of Moses has been superseded and baptism in the name of Jesus makes us children of God so circumcision is no longer indispensable to be part of the people of the New Covenant. Paul also speaks here of "communion" with Christ's sufferings, of being conformed to his death in the hope of attaining the resurrection from the dead, grafted into him in order to follow his same path: "communion with his sufferings, making me conform to his death". 

Note: St Paul invites us to live like Christ and to accept all the risks of proclaiming the Gospel, but can we say, like him, that the only good for us is the knowledge of Christ and everything else is but rubbish? The word rubbish that is used here translates the Greek word skubala, which has a very strong meaning that can be translated in several ways: as waste, refuse, dry excrement and filth, rotten and spoiled food residue. In short, a total rejection of everything, when one knows Christ and is possessed by him.

*From the Gospel according to John (8:1-11)

We are already in the context of the Passion and the first line mentions the Mount of Olives. Since the evangelists only mention it in the last days of Jesus' public life and the Pharisees want to set a trap for him here, this makes it clear that it has now been decided to try and condemn him. That is why every detail of this text must be carefully examined because it is not a simple episode in Jesus' life, but the very heart of his mission.  At the beginning Jesus is seated as a teacher: "all the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them". However, the question of the scribes and Pharisees immediately puts him in the position of judge and Jesus is the only seated person. This detail helps us to understand that the theme of judgement, in St John, is central: the episode of the adulterous woman implements what he writes at the beginning of his gospel: "God sent the Son into the world, not to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:17). We are faced with a mock trial because the issue is clear: the adulterous woman was caught in the act and there are witnesses; the Law of Moses condemns adultery as one of the commandments given by God on Sinai (Thou shalt not commit adultery, Ex 20:14; Deut 5:18); Leviticus prescribes the death penalty: "If anyone commits adultery with his neighbour's wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death" (Lev 20:10). The scribes and Pharisees, who question Jesus, are as always very attached to the Law of Moses, but they forget to add that the Law provides for the condemnation of both offenders, the man and the adulterous woman. The fact that despite knowing this, no one remembers it, shows that the real issue is not the observance of the Law, but something else, and the text says it clearly: "They said this to test him and to have reason to accuse him". It is therefore a trap-question and what do they want to accuse Jesus of? Jesus cannot approve of the stoning because it would contradict the whole preaching on mercy; if, however, he publicly defends the woman, he can be accused of inciting the people to disobey the Law. In John's Gospel (chapter 5), we have already seen him tell the healed paralytic to take his bed, an act forbidden on the Sabbath. They failed to condemn him that day, but this time the disobedience would be public. After all, despite the apparent respect with which they call him 'Master', Jesus is in as much danger as the adulterous woman: both risk death. Jesus does not immediately respond: "He stooped down and began to write with his finger on the ground". With his silence, a constructive silence, he invites each one to reflect without humiliating anyone, and he, the incarnation of mercy, does not put the scribes and Pharisees or the adulterous woman in difficulty: he wants each one to take a step forward by trying to reveal to the Pharisees and scribes the true face of the God of mercy. When he responds, he does so almost by posing a question: 'Let him who is without sin among you cast the stone at her first'. At this point they all leave, "one by one, beginning with the elders". Nothing surprising: the elders appear to be the ones most ready to listen to the call to mercy. Who knows how many times they have experienced God's mercy on them... How many times they have read, sung, meditated on the verse: "God of tenderness and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love" (Ex 34:6). How many times have they recited Psalm 50(51): "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your mercy, in your great goodness blot out my sin". Now they can understand that their lack of mercy is a fault, a lack of faithfulness to the God of the Covenant. Jesus' statement may have led them to this reflection: 'Let him who is without sin among you cast the stone first'. Being the first to throw the stone was an expression known to all in the context of the fight against idolatry. The Law did not say that it had to be the witness of adultery who threw the first stone; but it did say so expressly for the case of idolatry (Deut 13:9-10; Deut 17:7). Thus Jesus' reply can be interpreted as: "This woman is guilty of adultery, in the literal sense of the word, it is true; but are you not committing an even more serious adultery, an unfaithfulness to the God of the Covenant? The prophets often speak of idolatry in terms of adultery.  In the end, only Jesus and the woman remain: it is the face-to-face, as St Augustine says, between misery and mercy. For her, the Word once again fulfils his mission, speaking the word of reconciliation. Isaiah, speaking of the servant of God, had announced it: 'He will not break a cracked reed, he will not quench a smouldering wick...' (Is 42:3). But this is not goodism because Jesus clearly tells the woman to sin no more, sin remains condemned, but only forgiveness can enable the sinner to be reborn to hope.

Note: What does Jesus write on the ground? The evangelist does not specify, and this has given rise to various interpretations: Some Church Fathers, such as St Augustine, speculate that Jesus was writing down the hidden sins of those who accused the woman. This is why, one by one, they go away; It refers to the Mosaic Law: according to a rabbinic interpretation, it could refer to Jeremiah 17:13: "Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust, because they have forsaken the Lord, the source of living water." If so, Jesus would be indicating that the accusers themselves are guilty of unfaithfulness to God. It could be a symbolic act of detachment; writing in the dust could symbolise that the accusations against the woman are ephemeral, destined to fade away; it could indicate a call to patience and reflection; finally, it could be a way of not responding immediately, prompting the accusers to reflect on their hypocrisy.

Jesus' gesture invites us to shift our attention not to the guilt of others, but to our own conscience. No one can condemn another without first examining himself. This episode teaches us that God's mercy exceeds human condemnation, and that forgiveness is always possible when there is a heart willing to change. 

The first reading and this Sunday's Gospel have the same message: forget the past, don't get attached to it... nothing, not even memories, should stop you from moving on. In the first reading, Isaiah speaks to the people in exile... in the Gospel, Jesus speaks to a woman caught in the act of adultery: apparently, two very different cases, but the message is the same: turn your gaze firmly towards the future, no longer think about the past.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

(Jn 8:31-42)

In the opinion of many Jews, the Inheritance received was much more precious and reassuring than any other teaching albeit dignified, that anyone could impart.

But the faithful in Christ realize that in the horizon of a life as saved persons, descent alone is not a premise of superiority, nor does it guarantee prominent positions in the order of things of God.

So what is the relationship between Jesus and Abraham, father of faith?  In what relationship is the disciple with the history of the chosen people, therefore with the religion of the patriarchs?

Early Christians experienced that an unusual and precious Freedom was born from fidelity to the Word of Lord; an opening to God that no creed knew.

The relationship of Faith introduces into a qualified and real ‘increase of life’ - one that is also suitable for the inexperienced and beginners - foreign to any circle of the chosen and elect.

So what does it mean to be sons of Abraham? There are those who imagine they have the “document” in place, but do not understand that a fixed identity is trap of vitality.

Christ’s intimates introduce into salvation history an inverted criterion of theological prostitution [cf. v.41: «fornication»], based on divine wealth. Another kind of Covenant.

The disciple of Jesus understands that reality has many sides, and he himself has many faces: he is called to integrate them, for a fluent wholeness.

Despite they are both ‘at home’, the «son» is a blood relative - he doesn’t remain a servant like the slave (of the descendants).

The God of the chosen people says to Abraham: "Go!". It's an order.

The Son proposes to us: «Come!». It’s a family virtue that guarantees the overcoming of difficulties, and harmonious growth.

It’s not enough to be well-versed in ways of doing things. We need to open up to a new experience.

It’s the adherence of life that convinces us to remain in the Father's abode - it’s not enough to rush and ignite in particular circumstances.

Such a custom attenuates fears and makes us become One with the Truth-Fidelity of God: let’s start from this founding Core.

Being in the Son frees from external opinions, from a blanket of manners (vv.33.37ff) that have not been reworked, nor assimilated and made one’s own; typical of subordinates, who lack profound experience.

The slave of the cliché lives under condemnation, because he is too closed in the perimeters - settled, but out of home: therefore in a reality that stagnates, or that advances by accentuating and emphasizing limits.

The «son», on the other hand, conquers unprecedented spaces, emancipates himself from selfishness that annihilates communion, from self-love that refuses to listen, from homologation that cancels uniqueness, from conformity that makes exceptionality pale, from envy that separates and blocks the exchange of gifts, from competition also spiritual that drugs us, from the sloth that discourages and paralyzes.

The God of ancient religions is a principal, an instigator; pivotal figure of subjugation and domestication, that enervates.

The Father is principle of Freedom that proceeds against the current, without fear of mixings and heterogeneities (vv.41.43).

He allows sons - even hybrids - to rediscover the roots of the sacred sap that animates them, and to meet the unrepeatable characters that are hidden in their great Desire.

[Wednesday 5th wk. in Lent, April 9, 2025]

(Jn 8:31-42)

In the opinion of many Jews, the inheritance they had received was far more precious and reassuring than any decent teaching anyone could impart.

But believers in Christ realise that on the horizon of a saved life, descent is not a prerequisite for superiority, nor does it guarantee any place of prominence in God's order of things.

Not only does ancient religion not grant privileged automatic access, it is incomplete and deficient. It takes away the freedom it promises to bestow upon believers in a superabundant manner.

[The harmonious relationship with Heaven, with oneself and with events, does not take place out of loyalty to cultural or self-dominating principles - which can make themselves the guarantors of total truth].

What then is the relationship between Jesus and Abraham, the father of faith? What is the disciple's relationship with the history of the chosen people, hence with the religion of the patriarchs?

The first Christians experienced that from fidelity to the Word of the Lord came an unusual and precious autonomy; an openness to God that no creed claiming independence already knew.

The relationship of Faith introduces one into a more qualified, personally charged and real - in itself conforming even to the inexperienced and novice: still foreign to any circle of the chosen and experienced.

So what does it mean to be children of Abraham? There are those who imagine they have the 'document' in place, but do not understand that a fixed identity is a trap of vitality. It rejects the Father's design.

Christ's intimates introduce into salvation history an inverted criterion of 'theological prostitution' [cf. v.41: 'fornication'] based on divine wealth. Another kind of covenant.

The follower of Jesus understands that reality has many faces, and he himself has many faces: he is called to integrate them, for a completeness freed from constraints that stagnate in one-sidedness.

Although they are both at home, the 'son' is a blood relative - he does not remain a servant like the slave (of the descendants).

The God of the chosen people says to Abraham: "Go!". It is an order.

The Son proposes: "Come!". It is a throb of communion, which crosses the fence and unfolds the self, regenerating it in the unceasing We.

It is a family virtue that guarantees the overcoming of difficulties, harmonious growth, and fruitful friendship with the problems - as well as the aggressions - that seem to scatter us.

Even under the action of epochal upheavals of established cultures and beliefs, the God-family member can let go, avoiding the phenomenon that stiffens.

For harmonious growth, it is never enough to be grounded in traditions and ways of doing things - even 'contemporary' and approved ways.

One must open oneself up to a new experience, break free from the excess of control, fashion and circles. Whoever grasps himself liberated freely, rests on another platform of being.

It is the adherence of life that convinces one to remain in the Father's dwelling, and there to deposit everything - not the adult inflaming of special circumstances, or even opposition.

While exposing ourselves (as witnesses and prophets), such a habit mitigates fears. It makes us One with the Truth-Fidelity of God.

And we start from that founding core - in which we find our presence, our capacities, our authentic beginnings. Which are not the artificial ones of the 'fathers', or glamour, but ours authentically, and the Father's.

Such a truly ancient hearth side where we learn silence, motive, as well as the embrace of complete life - it helps to break the patterns of existence in all controlled by the cloak of clichés around us.

Being in the Son dissolves from external opinions, from a blanket of 'proper' manners, and from the bundle of "descent" (vv.33.37ff).

Tara not reworked, nor assimilated and made one's own; typical of subordinates, who lack profound experience.

Disciples are neither plagiarised nor indistinct.

Even those who are characterised by promiscuous baggage are actually inspired. As such, they become limpid, disinclined to seduction and compromise.

Emancipated from hammering constraints, they grasp differences and break through boundaries.

The slave of customary devotion and clichés lives under condemnation, because he is too closed within the perimeters.

He seems settled, but so out of home: thus in a reality that stagnates, or advances in an epidermic, moralistic, (in fact) confusing way. Accentuating and emphasising limits.

The son, on the other hand, conquers spaces of the unprecedented; he emancipates himself from the selfishness that annihilates communion, from the self-love that refuses to listen, from the standardisation that cancels uniqueness, from the conformism that makes exceptionalism pale, from the envy that separates and blocks the exchange of gifts, from the competition, even spiritual, that drugs us, from the sloth that discourages and paralyses.

The God of ancient religions is a principal, a pivotal figure of submission and domestication that enervates. 

The Father is the principle of the Freedom that proceeds against the current, without fear of mixing and heterogeneity (vv.41.43).

He enables his children - even hybrids - to rediscover the roots of the sacred sap that animates them, and to encounter the unrepeatable characters that are hidden in their great Desire.

"If ye abide in my word, ye are my disciples indeed, and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free" (Jn 8.31).

Deepening: Spirit of Truth

Satisfying solutions or Spirit of Truth

(Jn 15:26-16:4a)

Faith in the Master is already eternal life, or rather Life of the Eternal (in action here and now).

He himself is Bread of authentic and indestructible existence, though still earthly.

In short, the intimate life of God reaches us in our time.

The first step is a Faith that gives a Vision; an irruption of the Spirit that gives birth from above, thus animating a different - not empty - existence.

The sign of such adherence is to believe Jesus as Son: man manifesting the divine condition.

Christ is Bread of Life also because His Word is creative, and the path of following Him transmits to us the qualities of indestructible Life.

The outpouring of the Spirit arouses in us the same pulsating Heart of the Eternal, which we experience in the deaths and resurrections of daily life and in the long rigmarole of the Vocation (repeated from path to path).

Even in persecution, whoever sees the Son has the Life of the Eternal within him - which always regenerates and disposes new births, other premises and questions, different paths, in an uninterrupted and growing form.

The passion for the Friend unites us to Him, Bread: that is, the Revealer of the Truth that satiates men on their journey towards themselves and the world, who sometimes change their skin, opinions, lifestyles.

In the Vision, we are empowered to directly appropriate, thus attracting and realising the Newness of God - even in advance, wisely.

Through Him, we have a part... in the Father's love for the Son who manifests Himself as personal Lord, and in the outgoing dilated life of the authentic Church.

The "hidden" God of the First Testament, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, now presents itself in the specifics of the Faith, without the need for fatuous fires to support it.

Because the world of God (in the soul) is different.

One does not enter the Mystery with normal intentions and perfect expectations, let alone success and recognition.

In this case (in the Gospel passage) the apostles' incomprehension comes into the picture.

Indeed, even to us, Jesus' way of manifesting himself often does not seem decipherable.

Even the Jews [actually: the returning Judaizers in the communities of the late 1st century] were waiting to catch him in an overt way, perhaps on a public occasion.

Instead, even in times of 'glorification', the Master seems to want to trace the outward (humble) inappearance of his earthly ministry.

Many expected sensational fireworks in that period they considered 'final'. Instead, no yielding to ideology of power or religion-show.

So things did not go as expected: doubts were not dispelled, ambiguities were not dispelled; the titles of Israel's former nationalist and imperial glory did not reappear at all, on the contrary!

Even today, the choice of Faith is not given to the apparatuses that would guarantee its visibility: no parachutes, no discounts.

Everything then seems to proceed as before, in the summary: to toil for a living and buy, to travel and not, to laugh and cry, to get sick and get well, to work and party... so on and so forth, often in (seemingly senseless) pain; perhaps without any decisive turning points.

But in the same things as always there is a different Light, planted on a new, immediate, relationship of needy humanity with the Father who regenerates us.

He stimulates new Births, to reconnect desires, deep needs, external paths, and increase the intensity of life.

And it is in the mutual knowledge of the roots and furrows of reality that this circle of love between God and his children exists in the first place.

All that has not yet been understood will be recalled by the action of the Spirit. The only reliable impetus, which does not point to vain things.

A relationship between man and Heaven within us, not above.

A friendship that does not primarily contemplate resignation, effort, humiliation... but is reworked in deepening.

This is where the true scope of our hearts - so limited, yet endowed with a mysterious imprint - for the complete, yet personal, life of character comes into play.

In order to avoid intimidation, marginalisation and annoyance, some church members advocated a kind of alliance between Jesus and the Empire, proclaiming a Christ so vague and untethered that he would not scratch anyone.

Some ambitious, 'life-in-the-spirit' troublemakers felt that the time had come to shake off the earthly affair of the carpenter's son - considered weak in itself, short-lived, out of place and time; already extinguished. 

Jn intends to rebalance the attempt to proclaim, diluted in compromises.

The evangelist emphasises that the Risen One is the cipher and engine that bears the soul and generates us in today.

He is the same Son of God who sustained a harsh denunciation and several battles with the authorities.

To the opportunists of his time, the Master had dared to touch positions, vanity and the bag of commerce.

Therefore persecuted, tried, vilified, condemned as subversive, and cursed by God.

In short, the Holy Spirit does not go after butterflies.

The action of the Spirit (which internalises and actualises) and the historical memory of Jesus must always be combined.

Only in such a frank perspective is it possible to grasp the Truth of the Eternal and the Truth of Man in all times and circumstances.

In addition: the Father is the Creator of each of our deepest inclinations, to which he affixes an indelible signature.

It manifests itself in an innate instinct, which wants to germinate, find space, express itself.

We have rooted in our innermost being a unique, invincible Vocation and (plural) faces.

We cannot deny ourselves, our Roots - even where an open-faced testimony would be unattractive.

The Truth about each of us is consequential.

By Grace, we are repositories of an astounding dignity, which even in error (or what is considered error) imparts exceptional desires.

Truth that still restores dreams: an unprecedented hope that activates enthralling passions.

In vain would we have peace and happiness by seeking cultural and social concord, or by playing roles, characters, tasks that do not belong to us - albeit appeasing.

We would become outsiders.

Truth: Faithfulness to God in Christ. And candour in every choice, with our character in relationship and situation.

The rest is calculation and deep disturbance, which will leave us disassociated and sick inside.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you take a stand and face the consequences? When your vocational character is at stake, do you confront and put your face to it or do you blend in?

Do you play coy, value reciprocation, and seek tribute or protection from satisfactory synagogues? Or do you wish to unite your life with Christ?

Freedom Responsibility

"Abba, Father!" (Rom 8:15). What does this mean? St Paul assumes the social system of the ancient world, in which there were the slaves, to whom nothing belonged and who therefore could not be interested in the right course of things. Correspondingly, there were the sons who were also the heirs and who were therefore concerned with the preservation and good administration of their property or the preservation of the state. Since they were free, they also had a responsibility. Regardless of the sociological background of that time, the principle always applies: freedom and responsibility go together. True freedom is demonstrated in responsibility, in a way of acting that assumes co-responsibility for the world, for oneself and for others. Free is the son, to whom the thing belongs and who therefore does not allow it to be destroyed. All worldly responsibilities, of which we have spoken, are, however, partial responsibilities, for a specific sphere, a specific state, etc. The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, makes us sons and daughters of God. He draws us into the same responsibility as God for his world, for the whole of humanity. He teaches us to look at the world, at each other and at ourselves with God's eyes. We do good not as slaves who are not free to do otherwise, but we do it because we personally bear responsibility for the world; because we love truth and goodness, because we love God himself and thus also his creatures. This is true freedom, to which the Holy Spirit wants to lead us. The Church Movements want and must be schools of freedom, of this true freedom. There we want to learn this true freedom, not the freedom of slaves, which aims to cut a slice of everyone's cake for itself, even if this is then lacking for the other. We desire true and great freedom, the freedom of heirs, the freedom of God's children. In this world, so full of fictitious freedoms that destroy the environment and mankind, we want, with the power of the Holy Spirit, to learn true freedom together; to build schools of freedom; to show others with our lives that we are free and how beautiful it is to be truly free in the true freedom of the children of God.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil 3 June 2006].

"The truth will make you free" (Jn 8:32)

3. The continuous contamination with deceptive language ends up blurring the inner self of the person. Dostoevsky wrote something remarkable in this regard: "He who lies to himself and listens to his own lies comes to the point where he can no longer distinguish the truth, either within himself or around him, and thus begins to have no more esteem either for himself or for others. Then, because he no longer esteems anyone, he also ceases to love, and then, in the absence of love, in order to feel busy and to distract himself he gives himself up to passions and vulgar pleasures, and because of his vices he becomes like a beast; and all this stems from his constant lying, to others and to himself' (The Brothers Karamazov, II, 2).

How then to defend ourselves? The most radical antidote to the virus of falsehood is to allow ourselves to be purified by the truth. In the Christian view, truth is not just a conceptual reality, which concerns judging things, calling them true or false. Truth is not just bringing obscure things to light, "unveiling reality", as the ancient Greek term for it, aletheia (from a-lethès, "not hidden"), leads one to think. Truth has to do with the whole of life. In the Bible, it carries with it the meanings of support, solidity, trust, as the root 'aman, from which the liturgical Amen also comes. Truth is what one can lean on in order not to fall. In this relational sense, the only truly reliable and trustworthy one on whom one can rely, that is, 'true', is the living God. Here is Jesus' affirmation: "I am the truth" (Jn 14:6). Man, then, discovers and rediscovers the truth when he experiences it in himself as the faithfulness and trustworthiness of the one who loves him. Only this liberates man: "The truth will make you free" (Jn 8:32).

Liberation from falsehood and the search for relationship: these are the two ingredients that cannot be lacking for our words and deeds to be true, authentic, trustworthy. In order to discern the truth, we must sift through what supports communion and promotes the good and what, on the contrary, tends to isolate, divide and oppose. Truth, therefore, is not truly gained when it is imposed as something extrinsic and impersonal; instead, it springs from free relationships between people, in mutual listening. Moreover, one never stops searching for truth, because something false can always creep in, even in saying true things. An impeccable argument may indeed rest on undeniable facts, but if it is used to hurt the other person and to discredit him in the eyes of others, however right it may appear, it is not inhabited by truth. From the fruits we can discern the truth of the utterances: whether they stir up controversy, foment division, instil resignation, or whether, on the other hand, they lead to conscious and mature reflection, to constructive dialogue, to fruitful activity.

[Pope Francis, Message 52nd World Communications Day].

"Abba! Father!'" (Rom 8: 15). What does this mean?

St Paul presupposes the social system of the ancient world in which slaves existed. They owned nothing, so they could not be involved in the proper development of things.

Co-respectively, there were sons who were also heirs and were therefore concerned with the preservation and good administration of their property or the preservation of the State. Since they were free, they also had responsibility.

Leaving aside the sociological background of that time, the principle still holds true:  freedom and responsibility go hand in hand. True freedom is demonstrated in responsibility, in a way of behaving in which one takes upon oneself a shared responsibility for the world, for oneself and for others.
The son, to whom things belong and who, consequently, does not let them be destroyed, is free. All the worldly responsibilities of which we have spoken are nevertheless partial responsibilities for a specific area, a specific State, etc.

The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, makes us sons and daughters of God. He involves us in the same responsibility that God has for his world, for the whole of humanity. He teaches us to look at the world, others and ourselves with God's eyes. We do not do good as slaves who are not free to act otherwise, but we do it because we are personally responsible for the world; because we love truth and goodness, because we love God himself and therefore, also his creatures. This is the true freedom to which the Holy Spirit wants to lead us.

The Ecclesial Movements want to and must be schools of freedom, of this true freedom. Let us learn in them this true freedom, not the freedom of slaves that aims to cut itself a slice of the cake that belongs to everyone even if this means that some do not get any.

We want the true, great freedom, the freedom of heirs, the freedom of children of God. In this world, so full of fictitious forms of freedom that destroy the environment and the human being, let us learn true freedom by the power of the Holy Spirit; to build the school of freedom; to show others by our lives that we are free and how beautiful it is to be truly free with the true freedom of God's children.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil 3 June 2006]