29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [18 October 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah 45:1–6

When Isaiah wrote this text, the Jews had been in exile in Babylon for almost fifty years. In 587 BC, Nebuchadnezzar’s armies had conquered Jerusalem, destroyed and plundered the Temple, and deported the survivors. Now, however, news is arriving of the conquests of Cyrus, King of Persia, the new ruler of the world. For the Jews, this news offers a glimmer of hope, for Cyrus is rapidly conquering the entire region. Cyrus stands out from other rulers because he adopts a more humanitarian policy: he does not kill the vanquished, nor does he destroy or plunder their cities, nor does he deport the populations. On the contrary, in the conquered territories he allows the exiles to return to their homeland, restores to them the property taken by previous conquerors, and even provides the means to rebuild the country. He probably realises that it is in an emperor’s interest to rule over happy peoples. In this context, Isaiah utters a prophecy that is above all a profession of faith and hope. He says: ‘Thus says the Lord to his anointed one, to Cyrus’. The message is probably not addressed directly to Cyrus—who would not have listened to a Jewish prophet—but to the exiled Jews, to restore their hope. This hope is based on two fundamental convictions. Firstly, God is faithful to his Covenant.

God has not abandoned his people: Israel remains his servant and his chosen people. Even though they have lost their freedom, their land, the Temple, their king and their political independence, God continues to be faithful to the Covenant with Jacob and Israel. This certainty is particularly important precisely at a time when the Jews might think that God has abandoned them. Secondly,

God is the Lord of history. God declares: ‘I am the Lord; there is no other.’ Even the mighty Cyrus is in his hands. The expressions relating to bestowing a title, taking by the hand and opening the gates recall the rites of the coronation of kings: the king received the title of Son of God, was anointed with oil and placed in God’s hands; the open gates also symbolised the conquest of enemy cities. Isaiah therefore applies to Cyrus imagery typical of the coronation of the kings of Israel, presenting him as a king chosen and consecrated by God, even though he is a pagan. This proves that it is always God who retains the initiative and control over events.

Responsorial Psalm (95/96) 

There is a thrill, indeed an exultation, running through these few verses. One senses the faith that stirs this people; indeed, even better, the hope that is the joy of faith. It is hope that enables us to affirm with certainty what we do not yet possess, as the Letter to the Hebrews states (1:1). If we pause to read the final verses, we realise that this psalm already transports us to the end of the world, to that blessed day when all peoples, without exception, will recognise God as the one and only God. Joy in heaven! Let the earth rejoice! Let the depths of the sea roar; let the whole countryside be in celebration. Let the trees of the forests dance for joy before the Lord, for he is coming to judge the earth. He will judge the world with justice and the peoples according to his truth! Here, the blessed day we await is already being sung of. Let us imagine the scene: we are in Jerusalem; all peoples, nations and races are thronging around the Temple. The esplanade is teeming; the steps of the courtyard are black with people; crowds are pouring in from every corner of the world; the number of pilgrims stretches as far as the eye can see, and Jerusalem is not big enough to contain them all. Everyone is singing at the top of their voices, like a true symphony: ‘God reigns!’ It is an immense and colossal clamour, like the ovation given to every new king on the day of his coronation. This time, however, it is not the people of Israel acclaiming an earthly king; it is the whole of humanity acclaiming the King of the world: ‘Great is the Lord, highly praised, awesome’. And it is not just humanity; the earth itself trembles, and even the seas join in the symphony, whilst the countryside rejoices and the trees dance, for they recognise their Creator. Amidst so many idols and false gods, there is no room for error, and even the trees are not deceived. People, on the other hand, have long allowed themselves to be deceived, and it is incredible that it has taken them so long to recognise their Creator, their Father. This time, however, it has happened, and everyone is coming to Jerusalem to acclaim God because at last the good news resounds: ‘Day by day Israel has proclaimed its salvation… the ceaseless work of liberation… day by day Israel has borne witness that God first delivered it from Egypt, then from every kind of slavery; and the most terrible form of slavery is to place one’s trust in false values, false gods that can only disappoint.  Israel is immensely fortunate to know and to be charged with proclaiming that our God is the one and only God, as declared in the Shema Israel: ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one’ (Deut 6:4). This is the mystery of Israel’s vocation, as we read in Deuteronomy: ‘You have been granted to see all this, so that you may know that the Lord is God; there is no other’ (Deut 4:32). But the chosen people have never forgotten that if they have been granted to see, it is so that they may make it known; and whilst awaiting the fulfilment of this dream, Israel sings this psalm to renew its faith and hope.

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

This is the earliest Christian writing, even though we are accustomed to seeing the Gospels at the beginning of the New Testament, thus running the risk of forgetting that they were written after Paul’s letters. The First Letter to the Thessalonians dates back to just twenty years or so after the Resurrection of Christ, and so here we have the earliest statements of Christian preaching. It is the first time that an attempt has been made to set down in writing the mystery of Jesus Christ. It is around the year 50, and the Gospel has already been proclaimed far from Jerusalem, for Thessalonica is in Europe, in northern Greece, in the region known as Macedonia. Before reaching that far, Paul had already had time to establish communities throughout the south, the centre and even the west coast of Turkey. It is from the Acts of the Apostles that we know how events unfolded: Paul was on a mission on the west coast of Turkey when, one night, he had a vision of a Macedonian man imploring him: ‘Come over to Macedonia and help us’. And Luke, who was part of the journey, recounts: “Following this vision of Paul’s, we immediately set out for Macedonia, for we realised that God was calling us to bring the Good News there” (Acts 16:9–10). Paul, Luke and Silas arrived on the Greek coast in the city of Philippi, where they were initially well received, but were soon accused of disturbing the peace; they were beaten and thrown into prison. Thanks to a providential earthquake, they were set free and, having left the city, went on to Thessalonica. According to the Acts of the Apostles, Paul’s preaching was always the same: “For three Sabbaths he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Christ had to suffer and rise from the dead, and he added: ‘This Jesus whom I am proclaiming to you is the Christ’”. The text adds: “Some of them (that is, the Jews he met in the synagogue) were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, along with a large crowd of Greeks who worshipped God and a good number of prominent women” (Acts 17:2–4). But, as usual, Paul did not arouse only enthusiasm because, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles: “The Jews, driven by jealousy, gathered some troublemakers in the public square; having stirred up crowds, they were causing unrest in the city” (Acts 17:5), so much so that it seemed very prudent for Paul and Silas to leave the area. Paul therefore left this new community too hastily and remained somewhat troubled about it for a while. When he wrote this letter, which we begin to read today, he had just been reassured by Silas and Timothy, who had remained in Macedonia and were bringing him excellent news. This explains the particularly joyful tone at the beginning of the letter: “Paul, Silvanus (another name for Silas) and Timothy to the Church of the Thessalonians, which is in God the Father and in the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace and peace to you. At all times we give thanks to God for all of you.” Right from this first sentence, one is struck by the solemnity of the greeting: this community is very small, and he grandly calls it “the Church of Thessalonica which is in God the Father and in the Lord Jesus Christ”. This immense respect that Paul has for Christian communities, even modest ones, is characteristic of all his letters. 

From the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (22:15–21)

‘Is it lawful to pay the tribute to the emperor?’ Jesus replies by calling the questioners ‘hypocrites’! Why ‘hypocrites’? Because this is not a genuine question, and they are hypocrites for two reasons: first of all, because they have long since resolved this issue. Paying the tax to the Emperor – ‘Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s’ – is something they do, and Jesus does not say they are wrong. Now they are setting a trap and trying to catch Jesus out… And the falsely respectful tone that precedes the question further emphasises this: ‘Teacher, we know that you are always truthful and teach the way of God in accordance with the truth’. All this politeness is nothing more than a preamble to a trick question designed to put Jesus in a difficult position. If Jesus urges his compatriots to refuse to pay the tax levied for the benefit of the Roman occupiers, it will be easy to denounce him to the authorities as a resistance fighter or even a revolutionary, and he will be condemned. If, on the other hand, he advises paying the tax, he could be discredited in the eyes of the people as a collaborator, losing any chance of being recognised as the Messiah; for the expected Messiah must be an independent and sovereign king on the throne of Jerusalem, which necessarily involves a revolt against the Roman occupiers. The trap is well laid, and in any case, whatever his answer, Jesus is doomed. In fact, they are seeking the first suitable opportunity to put him to death, for the Passion is already looming on the horizon, given that we are in the very final moments in Jerusalem. In his reply, Jesus clearly shows that he has understood: ‘Hypocrites! Why are you trying to test me?’ He is not naive in the face of the trap being set for him… Yet he does not seek to embarrass his interlocutors, for Jesus never did so and never sought to set a trap for anyone: this would be unworthy of the God whose light shines upon both the good and the wicked.

Jesus therefore does not respond to the trap with another trap, but takes the question seriously and answers it properly, setting out his argument in three points: ‘Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s… and give to God what is God’s. Firstly, ‘Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s’, including by paying tax. By this he invites us to recognise that Caesar is the holder of power, and this has nothing to do with servile collaboration; on the contrary, it is accepting a de facto situation and, furthermore, from the Old Testament perspective, it was considered that all power comes from God. Jesus himself, during his Passion, will say to Pilate: ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given to you from above’ (Jn 19:11). Moreover, Isaiah also recalled this in the first reading when speaking of King Cyrus: God can turn every human kingship to the good of his people. The Pharisees know the passage from Isaiah about Cyrus better than we do; they therefore know that all power, even pagan power, is in God’s hands. Let us note, however, in passing that the Caesar of the time was actually called ‘Tiberius’ and that the name ‘Caesar’ had become a title of the Roman emperor. Secondly, ‘Render unto Caesar only what is Caesar’s’: when Caesar – that is, the Roman emperor – demands tax, he is within his rights, but when he demands to be called ‘Lord’ and to be worshipped, he exposes you to idolatry, and here there must be no compromise. At the time when Matthew was writing his Gospel, this scenario was a reality. Many martyrs paid with their lives for this refusal to worship the Roman emperor. The invitation is therefore important: ‘Render unto God what is God’s’. That is the real issue: are you sure you are rendering unto God what is God’s? Why do you not recognise in Jesus the one who ‘is of God’? Without wishing to derive a theory of political power from this text – which Jesus certainly did not intend to do here – we can nevertheless draw from this Gospel passage, once again, a surprising lesson in freedom. Caesar is but Caesar, and the kings of the earth are but petty kings whose kingship is fleeting, whilst the kingdom of God is of an entirely different order: it is within the very heart of the kingdoms of the earth that every act of love and brotherhood causes the one true kingdom—the Kingdom of God—to grow.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [11 October 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (25:6–10a)

To describe the fulfilment of God’s plan, the prophet Isaiah chose the image of a banquet. This plan is a humanity finally at peace: sitting at the same table, sharing the same meal, celebrating together – a true image of peace. ‘The Lord of hosts will prepare for all peoples, on his mountain, a feast of rich food and choice wines, a feast of succulent meat and refined wines.’ It is a poetic and symbolic evocation: Isaiah is not seeking to give a realistic description of what will actually happen. He means that wars, suffering and injustices will come to an end, and all peoples will be celebrating. If this passage dates, as many believe, from during or after the Babylonian Exile, it is understandable why the dream of celebration is expressed through images of abundance. If the prophet considers it worthwhile to proclaim: “On that day it will be said: “Behold, this is our God; we have hoped in him, and he has saved us”, he probably does so to try to lift the spirits of his compatriots. And so we might translate it as: Take heart, my brothers and sisters; tell yourselves that in time you will not regret having placed your trust in him… and I will tell you how the story will end: we are walking slowly but surely towards the day of definitive peace. The only truly good reason to believe in this is that it is a promise from God: ‘The Lord has spoken’, says Isaiah. Here is the central phrase of the text that justifies the prophet’s unshakeable optimism – he who knows and has experienced God’s ceaseless work to liberate his people. One cannot be a prophet (or simply a witness to the faith) unless, in one way or another, one has a personal or collective experience of God’s work; and Israel takes care to continually nourish its faith through the remembrance of God’s work. And it is precisely because it never forgets this that it is able to endure times of trial. Just as God delivered his people from the bonds of Egypt, so he continues, down through the centuries, to deliver them; and mankind’s worst bonds are the inability to live in peace, to practise justice, and to remain in the Covenant with God. If God brings his work to fulfilment (and Isaiah has no doubt that he will), the day will come when all peoples will live in peace and in faithfulness to the Covenant. For it is he, the Lord, who has promised it.

There is, however, one phrase that remains difficult: ‘He will swallow up death for ever’. When we read this phrase today, we are tempted to interpret it in the light of our present Christian faith and thus to attribute to the prophet thoughts that were not his own. Only God knows, of course, what Isaiah had in mind, but it is highly unlikely that this passage constitutes an affirmation of the Resurrection in the Christian sense of the term; the people of Israel gradually came to discover, even before Christ, a belief in the resurrection of the body, but this was long after the Book of Isaiah had been definitively committed to writing. It is a truth that has become increasingly established over the centuries.

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

This psalm, known as the Psalm of the Good Shepherd, may seem like a simple pastoral image, but in reality it speaks of the fundamental themes of life: life and death, fear of enemies, and faith in God, which is stronger than any threat. It speaks of life within the Covenant with God: for the believer, only this relationship with God truly deserves the name ‘Life’, whilst a break with God represents ‘Death’. The ‘House of the Lord’ is the Temple in Jerusalem. Those who could truly say, ‘I shall dwell in the House of the Lord all the days of my life’, were the Levites, descendants of Levi. The tribe of Levi did not receive a territory like the other tribes of Israel, because it was consecrated to the service of worship. The Levites lived in the towns of the other tribes, received tithes and travelled to Jerusalem to take their turn in serving in the Temple, which they guarded day and night. The psalm therefore expresses the joy of a life completely consecrated to God: ‘Goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever’. However, the Levite also becomes a symbol of the experience of the whole people of Israel. Just as the Levite has a special place amongst the people of Israel, so Israel has a special role amongst the nations. God freely chose this people and offered them a Covenant. Israel acknowledges this choice with wonder and continually remembers what God did to deliver them from Egypt. Being the chosen people does not, however, mean selfishly enjoying God’s closeness. Israel is called to pave the way for other peoples, so that all humanity too may enter into intimacy with God. This ties in with Isaiah’s message: the banquet prepared by God on his mountain is intended for all peoples. In short, this Psalm teaches that God is the shepherd who accompanies and protects his people. Israel was chosen to live within the Covenant and to bear witness to God’s love before other nations. Ultimately, however, salvation and communion with God are intended for all humanity.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians (4:12–14, 19–20)

Paul writes to the Christians in Philippi whilst he is probably in prison in Ephesus, in the 50s AD. He thanks them for the financial aid they sent him via Epaphroditus. Paul explains that he has learnt to live in both poverty and abundance: he knows how to be full or hungry, to live in plenty or in want. His freedom from material possessions stems from his faith: ‘I can do all things through him who strengthens me’, that is, Christ. Paul is not ashamed to speak of money or to accept help when he needs it. True freedom does not mean pretending not to need material possessions, especially when so many people live in poverty. But are riches an opportunity or a risk? In this regard, the Bible presents three fundamental ideas: First of all, riches are a positive possibility: they are not evil in themselves and can be regarded as a gift from God when they enable one to live and enjoy one’s work. However, riches can become a risk: when they are accumulated for their own sake, they can turn into a form of slavery. An excessive desire to possess leads to a loss of freedom. Finally, the accumulation of wealth can create poverty: when some accumulate too much, others may be deprived of the necessary resources. This is why prophets, such as Amos and Isaiah, strongly criticise injustice and the hoarding of wealth. We must never forget that we are not owners, but stewards of the goods we have, both for ourselves and for others. During the Eucharist, the bread and wine represent all the riches of the earth and the work of humankind. In offering them, we are not simply giving something to God: we acknowledge that everything already belongs to Him and has been entrusted to us. In short: money and wealth are not evil in themselves. They become a problem when they enslave us, when they are hoarded selfishly, or when they lead to poverty and injustice. Christians are called to use them freely and responsibly, remembering that they are merely stewards of these things.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (22:1–14)

These two parables follow one another and, at first glance, do not seem to have much in common: the parable of the invitation to the wedding feast and that of the man turned away because he was not wearing wedding clothes. Some believe that, originally, these two parables were not connected: it would indeed seem contradictory to demand formal attire from someone who had been picked up off the street. But if Matthew deliberately placed them side by side, it means that we can draw a lesson from this connection. Let us examine them one by one. ‘A king was celebrating his son’s wedding.’ And this is not just any king, for right from the start we are told that we are speaking of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’: this expression alone immediately suggests to us that it concerns the Covenant between God and humanity, a Covenant fulfilled in Jesus Christ; in the Gospels, he presents himself as the bridegroom. Moreover, the word ‘wedding’ occurs seven times in this parable. This wedding symbolism is not very common in our Christian language today; yet it is precisely in these terms that the later texts of the Bible describe God’s plan for humanity. From the final prophecies of Isaiah right through to the Book of Revelation, via the Song of Songs and the Wisdom Literature, to name but a few, God’s love for humanity is described in terms of conjugal love. And it is precisely for this reason that Saint Paul says that marriage is ‘the best image of God’s relationship with humanity’.

In the Old Testament, it was clear that the proclamation and fulfilment of the universal salvation of humanity were to come through Israel. The chosen people had a mission for the whole of humanity. It is in this sense that we have learnt to interpret God’s words to Abraham: ‘All the families of the earth shall be blessed through you’ (Gen 12:3). Returning to the wedding analogy, we might say that the Jews were the first to be invited to the wedding; the host was counting on them to then extend the invitation and bring in, in their wake, the whole of humanity. But we know how it turned out: the vast majority of Jews refused to recognise Jesus as the Messiah. In the parable, they are represented by the guests who refuse to come to the wedding and even go so far as to mistreat the servants who had gone to summon them. What will happen? In the parable, the servants fill the banquet hall with guests summoned at the last moment. In the Letter to the Romans, Paul comments that this rejection by Israel will not only fail to prevent the wedding, but will actually facilitate the entry of all peoples into the banquet hall. ‘The servants went out into the streets, gathered everyone they found, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests’. Let us move on to the second parable: a man, invited at the last moment, enters without a wedding garment. He is utterly unable to answer the question: ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ He is then thrown out. This certainly does not mean that he had to meet a particular behavioural requirement, nor that the wedding garment symbolises any kind of merit. As soon as we speak of ‘merit’, we risk distorting the meaning of God’s grace, which by definition is free! With God, there are no conditions to fulfil. The first parable clearly states that everyone was allowed to enter, both the good and the bad. So, what might this second parable mean? Let us look at the crowd entering the wedding banquet hall. Whether good or bad, everyone was invited; everyone accepted and put on the wedding garment: they were able to welcome the unexpected invitation and prepare themselves.

Only one person did not deem it necessary to do so: he failed to appreciate the good fortune of this unhoped-for offer and to accept it with gratitude. When asked, ‘How did you manage to get in here without the wedding garment?’, he does not know what to say. A word of apology or repentance would have sufficed, but he remains silent. Failing to prepare for a banquet means attaching no importance to the invitation and showing contempt for the one who invites us. Ultimately, just like the first guests, he has sinned through indifference or presumption. In conclusion: the first virtue required of us is humility.

Commentary: The first guests refused the invitation and others took their place. Historically, this is precisely what happened. In the Acts of the Apostles we see the same scenario repeated several times: whenever Paul arrives in a new city, he first goes to the synagogue and proclaims to the Jews that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah. Some believe him and become Christians. However, when Paul’s preaching goes beyond the confines of the synagogue and even the pagans begin to become Christians, the Jews who have not been persuaded become frightened and drive Paul out. This is what happened in Antioch of Pisidia: ‘It was necessary to proclaim the word of God to you first. But since you reject it and do not consider yourselves worthy of eternal life, we turn to the pagan nations.’ The same thing subsequently happened in Iconium and Thessalonica. Precisely because the apostles were driven out from one city to another, the Gospel spread from one city to another. One of the lessons of the first parable is therefore that Israel’s rejection cannot permanently halt God’s plan. Just as prostitutes and tax collectors took the place of the religious authorities in Jesus’ time, so, a few years later, when Matthew was writing his Gospel, pagans entered the Church in great numbers precisely because of the rejection by some Jews.

God always manages to bring good out of evil. There is also another interpretation of the wedding garment. In New Testament language, the wedding garment is that of the baptised. We know, in fact, that what we today call the ‘baptismal garment’ is in reality a ‘wedding garment’. The second parable would therefore concern the baptised: it is they who have entered the wedding hall. But we know that you cannot judge a book by its cover. Here, Jesus would be reminding us of the demands that stem from our Baptism. As he himself says: ‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven’ (Mt 7:21).

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Serving oneself and "the audience"

(Lk 11:42-46)

The conflict between Jesus and the religious authorities takes on violent features.

Ideological or devout choice can be lost in the formalism of those who endlessly discuss minutiae and forget the goals of inner commitment, in favor of a sort of circus show (v.43).

When the notables disdain service and choose honors, the simple passing by them causes to contract the same impurity of the soul: average and normal life, internal corruption.

In short, the Divine Law has been so burdened as to make devout practice suffocating, worried about quibbles.

For those who can bear the procedures, then, perfection in outward things can nourish pride even in interhuman relationships. And the Grace that enriches will no longer dictate the conduct.

The willingness to build up the Church in Christ requires us to be authentic and simple, not dehumanized; a sign of the Covenant, not hateful.

There is a counter-witness that stifles the growth of life and crushes the freedom of those who are animated by Spirit of God.

Among other things, leaders and “jurists” willingly leave their privacy outside the provisions they impose on others (v.46).

In short, the care for details is good and propulsive (v.42) only if it joins the intimate discovery of one’s Mission and Call, character that promotes growth and our future.

While Mt 23:27 speaks of whitewashed tombs, Lk speaks of hidden sepulchers, which are not seen (v.44).

Simple, naïve, pure people who approach it, do not realize that they are insisting on dead idols.

In the Semitic mentality, touching or trampling on a tomb meant contracting impurities.

Jesus means that we must be very careful of these dangerous people, who seize and plagiarize souls, turning them away from God in the name of God.

Manipulative guides, who distract from the sense of the Good News in our favor, inoculating a mentality that annihilates growth.

At all times the recitation of disembodied, schematic, off-scale or confusing and empty holiness retains deviant appearances.

But the proponents of the soul’s death are immediately recognized: they are those who insist on sophisticated worldviews, on abstract ideas; on the trifles of habits, or disciplinary appearances - and forget the goals of the Kingdom.

The topic is crucial:

«We want to be a Church that serves, that leaves home and goes forth from its places of worship, goes forth from its sacristies, in order to accompany life, to sustain hope, to be the sign of unity […] to build bridges, to break down walls, to sow seeds of reconciliation» (FT n.276).

Resolutive work, obtained in a laborious, «craftsmanship» way (n.217).

As with fashions, attention to the too great or to the unincarnated modes brings people closer to skeletons.

Let us therefore help ourselves to bring the Word back inside, so that it becomes our active face, without duplicity, with broad hope, separated from the present scene and from any narcissistic workshop.

[Wednesday 28th wk. in O.T.  October 14, 2026]

Serving oneself and "the public”

(Lk 11:42-46)

The conflict between Jesus and the religious authorities takes on violent overtones, as the poltronists get hung up on the details and neglect the essentials.

In particular, the experts disdain the experience of Communion - which is indeed a project, but on the contrary a life insurance [with power and privileges].

According to the young Rabbi, the religious choice itself can be burdensome and intolerable.

Unfortunately, the devout option is not infrequently lost in the formalism of those who endlessly discuss petty precepts and forget the goals of inner commitment, in favour of a sort of circus show (v.43).

Indeed, there is no shortage of official notables who disdain service and choose honours, so that simply passing by them causes them to contract the same impurity of soul: average and normal life, internal corruption.

In short, the divine Law has been so burdened as to make sacred practice all artificial, asphyxiating, out of scale or preoccupied with minutiae.

For those who can stand the rigmarole, then, perfection in external things can feed pride even in inter-human relations.

The ancient spiritual fathers used to say that pride is a thief, because in the case of good deeds, self-love steals gratuitousness and feeds arrogance. Thus the Grace that enriches us no longer dictates our conduct.

Our readiness to build the Church in Christ demands that we be authentic and simple, not dehumanised; a sign of the Covenant, not hateful.

There is a counter-witness that stifles the growth of life and curtails the freedom of those who are animated by the Spirit of God: that of the popular leaders [Pharisees] and the hard-line jurists [scribes].

Not for nothing do they willingly leave privacy out of the arrangements they impose on others (v.46).

The experience of Love is 'law', not for the sake of a body, a pack, a group of interests, but for a rich conviviality of differences.

This is the 'norm', the 'canon' - if you like - but not to construct the impersonal good of the pressure group, and to be protected by it.

Although it would guarantee prestige in society - even ecclesial - it would become a sprawling, intrusive imposition.

The abstract, overly cerebral, ideological or fanciful gaze, and bigoted mummies, make the environment arid, dissipate energy, and make the experience of faith vacuous.

They insist on fulfilments, models, designs and penances, or conversely dissipations that drive love away, and discourage attempts to read oneself and dispositions from within.

Perhaps in every religion, observances - or 'big ideas' - have created that 'ancient' hypnotism of habitual mechanisms and enveloping atmospheres that make God a reassuring totem, a sacraliser of established positions.

He is a corrosive, punishing worm of passion, ruining people and the destiny of the whole people.

It is a matter, then, of running the utmost risk united with Christ - not to give in to the always lurking temptation to feel better: in favour of a long inner adventure; to touch those spaces where the Call by Name resembles no other.

It is in the intimate and in the candid relationship that we encounter our profound Calling, the unexpressed talents, the divine Author's signature.

In the uniqueness of character, from the Core, the Seed that does not lie guides the vocation; the Risen One who is present reveals himself to be understanding, gentle, attentive, absolutely genuine, personal.

Attention to details and trifles is only good and propulsive (v.42) if it is united with the intimate discovery of one's own singular Mission and Calling, a character that promotes growth, and our future.

Here the call to values that do not grow old, substantial - attentive to situations - does not imply contempt and disregard for what may seem secondary (but is unrepeatable): recognising the concrete woman and man.

Otherwise, the motive for our actions would remain the concern for our own fictitious fame. This would render petty and discredited the experience of Faith that activates us to explore, to make Exodus.

When the Law does not evolve within us and with us, in our inwardness and personality without measure, it will find a way to impose itself, torment us and slow down our experience of life, or contaminate and devastate it.

While Mt 23:27 speaks of whitewashed tombs, Lk speaks of hidden tombs, which cannot be seen (v.44).

The simple, naive, pure people who approach it do not realise that they are insisting on dead idols.

Even false teachers codify everything, and would like to normalise even belief and its expressions.

In the Semitic mentality, touching or treading on a tomb meant contracting impurity.

Jesus means that one must be very very careful of these very dangerous people.

Even in the primitive Christian communities, they gherminated and plagued souls, leading them away from God in the name of God.Manipulative guides, they diverted people away from the sense of the Good News in our favour, inoculating drop by drop a mentality that annihilated growth.

The recitation of disembodied, confusing, narrow and empty holiness (folklore and undergrowth) still retains deviant appearances.

But the proponents of the death of the soul are immediately recognisable: they are the ones who insist on sophisticated worldviews, on abstract ideas; on the quirks of idle pleasures, or of disciplinary appearances - and forget the objectives of the Kingdom.

The issue is crucial.

As Pope Francis reiterated in the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, quoting one of his homilies (in Santiago de Cuba):

"We want to be a Church that serves, that leaves home, that leaves its temples, its sacristies, to accompany life, to sustain hope, to be a sign of unity [...] to build bridges, to break down walls, to sow reconciliation" (no.276).

Decisive work, achieved in a laborious and "artisanal" manner (no.217).

Even among his own people today, the Risen One does not mince his words, and he speaks out decisively against certain insuppressible diseases - abstract [too big] worldviews or attention to the unimportant - that bring people closer to the skeletons.

The living Christ strikes out in invective at the formalism of doctrines and outward practices, which delude themselves into extracting and chiselling lofty earthly situations, obsessively attending only to themselves.

The only thing that Jesus condemns without appeal here is the vain ambition in the exercise of pretended authority - by pomp - considering it a narcissistic workshop (by washed-up histrions).

Let us therefore help ourselves to bring the Word back inside, so that it becomes our factual face, without duplicity, with a broad hope, separated from the present scene.

To internalise and live the message:

Have you renounced the law of death, of manner and quiddity, preferring the law of life?

Or do you serve yourself and 'the public'?

“Beware of practising your piety before men in order to be seen by them” (Mt 6:1). In today’s Gospel Jesus reinterprets the three fundamental pious practices prescribed by Mosaic law. Almsgiving, prayer and fasting characterize the Jew who observes the law. In the course of time these prescriptions were corroded by the rust of external formalism or even transformed into a sign of superiority. 

In these three practices Jesus highlights a common temptation. Doing a good deed almost instinctively gives rise to the desire to be esteemed and admired for the good action, in other words to gain a reward. And on the one hand this closes us in on ourselves and on the other, it brings us out of ourselves because we live oriented to what others think of us or admire in us. 

In proposing these prescriptions anew the Lord Jesus does not ask for formal respect of a law that is alien to the human being, imposed by a severe legislator as a heavy burden, but invites us to rediscover these three pious practices by living them more deeply, not out of self-love but out of love of God, as a means on the journey of conversion to him. Alms-giving, prayer and fasting: these are the path of the divine pedagogy that accompanies us not only in Lent, towards the encounter with the Risen Lord; a course to take without ostentation, in the certainty that the heavenly Father can read and also see into our heart in secret.

[Pope Benedict, Ash Wednesday homily 9 March 2011]

2. The present-day mentality, more perhaps than that of people in the past, seems opposed to a God of mercy, and in fact tends to exclude from life and to remove from the human heart the very idea of mercy.

15. Let us offer up our petitions, directed by the faith, by the hope, and by the charity which Christ has planted in our hearts. This attitude is likewise love of God, whom modern man has sometimes separated far from himself, made extraneous to himself, proclaiming in various ways that God is "superfluous." This is, therefore, love of God, the insulting rejection of whom by modern man we feel profoundly, and we are ready to cry out with Christ on the cross: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."137 At the same time it is love of people, of all men and women without any exception or division: without difference of race, culture, language, or world outlook, without distinction between friends and enemies. This is love for people-it desires every true good for each individual and for every human community, every family, every nation, every social group, for young people, adults, parents, the elderly-a love for everyone, without exception. This is love, or rather an anxious solicitude to ensure for each individual every true good and to remove and drive away every sort of evil.

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

When it is said of someone that they are a person with a double life, it is not to pay them a compliment. On the contrary. It is those people who irritate, cause outrage, or often even cause disgust with behaviour that contradicts the things that they are paying lip service to. Whether it is a politician or a neighbour makes little difference: discovering, so to speak, a 'double life', is something that always hurts. And let us not mention the disillusionment it can generate, especially in young people.

But if preaching well and braying badly is always an irritating thing, when it is a priest doing it, it is even more intolerable. Because there is something more at stake. Pope Francis said it very clearly, and as always in a very direct and effective style, a few days ago. When, in the homily of the morning Mass at Santa Marta, he stressed how "it is ugly to see pastors of double life", indeed it is a real "wound in the Church". For the Pope, they are "sick pastors, who have lost their authority and go on in this double life"; and, he added, "there are many ways of carrying on the double life: but it is double ... And Jesus is very strong with them. Not only does he tell people not to listen to them but not to do what they do, but what does he say to them? "You are whited sepulchres": beautiful in doctrine, from the outside. But inside, rottenness. This is the end of the pastor who has no closeness with God in prayer and with people in compassion'.

For it is this that makes the difference. Francis reiterates it firmly: 'What gives a pastor authority, or awakens the authority that is given by the Father, is closeness: closeness to God in prayer and closeness to people. The pastor detached from the people does not reach the people with the message. Closeness, this double closeness. This is the anointing of the pastor who is moved by God's gift in prayer, and can be moved by people's sins, problems, illnesses: let the pastor be moved. The scribes ... had lost the 'ability' to be moved precisely because 'they were not close either to the people or to God'". And without this closeness, or when for whatever reason it is lost, 'the shepherd ends up in inconsistency of life'.

It seems like re-reading the words that John Paul II, in his Holy Thursday letter addressed to priests around the world in 1986, dedicated to the Holy Curate of Ars, pointing to him, on the second centenary of his birth, as an example for all priests. 'It is certainly not a matter of forgetting,' wrote Benedict XVI, again on St John Mary Vianney, in his letter of indiction for the 2009 Year for Priests, 'that the substantial effectiveness of the ministry remains independent of the holiness of the minister; but neither can we overlook the extraordinary fruitfulness generated by the encounter between the objective holiness of the ministry and the subjective holiness of the minister. The Curé d'Ars immediately began this humble and patient work of harmonisation between his life as a minister and the holiness of the ministry entrusted to him, deciding even to 'inhabit' his parish church materially: 'As soon as he arrived, he chose the church as his dwelling... He would enter the church before dawn and only leave it after the evening Angelus. There one had to look for him when one needed him,' reads the first biography'. Consistency, then. Not duplicity. Because God's people need everything except whitewashed sepulchres.

[Pope Francis, St. Martha; Salvatore Mazza in Avvenire 13 January 2018]

Faith and religious sense

(Lk 11:37-41)

Ablutions before the meal (v.38) were an imposed religious obligation.

But the Eucharistic banquet [read in filigree] does not celebrate detachments, nor is it affected by purist idolatry.

The severe spirit - "dry cleaning" type - still today gives a white lime hand to the reality of the Father.

Indeed, impurity does not proceed from lack of form (as in the façade religiosity), but from the behaviour that reveals a substantial void.

What stains is all inside, and hatches despite the beautiful petitions of principle, or good manners - which cover bad habits.

In short, what is offered is pure; what is kept, impure (v.41).

From a spiritual point of view, only those who give themselves are without blemish; impure those who think only of themselves in a trivial way, or turn to their neighbour to manipulate him.

Thus, often the external norms or ideas of men do not go to the root: they fossilize us.

They do not tear or integrate from within the malicious contents, the unfair desires - the real goals.

Observances themselves often create spiritual competition.

In this way they annihilate the spirit of charity and hospitality - compendium of the Law - from which those same ancient signs were born, in the first assemblies of faith. 

Of course, Justice plays a decisive role, but it is an existential commitment. The ’right position’ is for life, not to putting things “right” [things that are sometimes lifeless, however sophisticated or abstract they may be].

According to the Gospels, God must not be confused with the precepts, nor ideologies of the future, if schematic and disembodied.

The Lord wants to enter our concrete existence - and the excess of minutiae or fantasies can make us lose the fundamental orientation of his Call, corrupting sensitivity to the signals in which He reveals himself.

Legalism, habits, or abstruse and imported fashions, can make us incapable of corresponding to the missionary vocation.

They become hoods that prevent us from serving the individual freedoms of the shaky.

They make us awkward in accompanying people so that they increase their capacity for life and character.

Here Jesus invites the “Pharisees” [those in his Church] to understand the freedom of God and not to transform the Faith into any devout, cunning, or abstract (no backbone) creed.

It is not the supposed uncontaminatedness or ‘right-just thinking’ that enables us in His Presence and makes us proceed along endless paths.

We experience this in the global crisis.

It is meeting Him that consecrates and makes adequate, pure, realized, already complete.

‘Perfect ones’ - for the type of Seed we are called to plant in the world.

Enough worries on top of that, wich leave everyone in the lurch, in torment, and with no way out.

As if even in the People of Sons it was permissible to impose and see cages, lanes, forced worldviews, and padlocks everywhere.

To internalize and live the message:

What was the key moment when you felt forgiven and pure? Were you copying someone in the old-fashioned way or the trendy way?

[Tuesday 28th wk. in O.T.  October 13, 2026]

The interior and the society of the exterior

(Lk 11:37-41)

"Now you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and tray, but your inside is full of robbery and wickedness" (Lk 11:39).

The ablutions before the meal (v.38) were an imposed religious obligation.

But the Eucharistic banquet [which we read in the watermark] does not celebrate detachment, nor does it suffer from purist idolatries.

The stern, 'dyeing' spirit - as Pope Francis would say - still gives a coat of whitewash to the Father's reality [at that time, it also served to protect the spirit of robbery of the veterans: v.39].

Indeed, the impurity does not proceed from shortcomings of form (as in façade religiosity), but from behaviour that denounces a substantial void.

That which stains is all within, and broods despite fine petitions of principle, or good manners - which cover up bad habits.

In short, what is offered is pure; what is withheld is impure (v.41).

From a spiritual point of view, only those who give themselves are without blemish; impure are those who think only of themselves in a trivial way, or who turn to their neighbour to manipulate him.

Thus, often the external norms or ideas of men do not go to the root: they fossilise.

They do not tear out or integrate from within the malign contents, the unrighteous desires - the true goals.

Dispositions devoid of inner conviction build at best seemingly impeccable people and a ritualistic world that (as it happens) turns to the most degrading corruption.

It is denoted in all the centres of power - again - all well covered by fatuous theatrical forms, and exaggerated catwalks.

In short, in order not to interrupt our thread of life, we can no longer stand there on studied and well-thought-out rules, believing that we have solved it.

Make-up does not capture the core.

In fact, even impeccable jurisdiction, or reason and intelligence, do not preserve from disheartenment, humiliation, loneliness - from what is authentic and continually surfacing.

Those forms of contract - so devious or conspicuous - do not restore a healthy balance, nor do they reach the lives of ordinary people.

It seemed to be pedagogy, but it is not: we see it.

Common religion itself sometimes lives by outward signs - often almost indecipherable or meaningless in themselves, when they flaunt, masking pyramids, and now increasingly blatant hypocrisies.

Not infrequently, the observances themselves create spiritual competition.

In doing so, they annihilate the spirit of charity and hospitality - the compendium of the Law - from which those same ancient signs were born, in the first assemblies of faith. 

Certainly, Justice plays a decisive role, but it is an existential commitment, not a cultic or scenographic one.

The 'righteous position' is for life, not for setting things right [dead things, or sophisticated and abstract things that are].

For the Gospels, one must not confuse God with precepts or ideologies of the future, if schematic and disembodied.

The Lord wants to enter into our concrete existence - and the excess of minutiae or fantasies can make us lose the fundamental orientation of his Calling, corrupting our sensitivity to the signs in which he reveals himself.

Legalism, habit, or abstruse and imported fashions can make us unable to correspond to the missionary Vocation.

They become shrouds that prevent us from serving the individual freedoms of the sick.

They make us clumsy in accompanying people so that they increase their capacity for life and character.

Why is Christ's victory His people?

Only the spirit of hospitality of the Sons in a relationship of mutual care, sensitive, able to perceive, creates the living environment that enables us to better connect our souls with the Mystery of the Hidden King, the great Meaning of our desires and His "intentions".

Here Jesus invites the Pharisees back to His Church to understand God's freedom and not to turn the Faith into just any pious, cunning, or abstract (spineless) creed.

It is not the supposed untaintedness or 'right' thinking that empowers us in his presence and makes us proceed on endless paths.

We experience Him, in the global crisis.

It is meeting Him that consecrates and makes us adequate, pure, fulfilled, already complete.

"Perfect" - for the kind of Seed we are called to plant in the world.

No more added worries that leave everyone in the worm, in torment, and with no way out.

As if even in the People of the Sons it is permissible to impose and see cages, lanes, obligatory worldviews, and padlocks everywhere.

To internalise and live the message:

What was the key moment when you felt forgiven and pure? Copying someone?

On an occasion when you experienced total gratuitousness, or deserved it?

On an occasion when you were true to yourself, or all outwardly projected?Misrepresented holiness: there is no sacred and profane in itself

Hypocritical traditions and ideal order: purity of advantage

(Mk 7:1-8.14-15.21-23)

Under the Herod dynasty, the sense of clan and community was crumbling.

Because of survival problems, families were forced to close in on themselves, loosen their bonds, think of their own needs.

This closure was reinforced by the religion of the time in every respect. In vv.10-12 we see an incredible example of this: those who dedicated their inheritance to the Temple could leave their parents without help!

Offence and offering: injustice and normative behaviour - a strange connection, in the apparent form of an exemplary accent.

The observance of purity norms was a factor of ordinary marginalisation for many people.

The wretched, in particular, were considered ignorant and cursed, because they were unable to comply; consequently, they lacked the consoling blessing promised to Abraham.

A daily drip that undermined the profound meaning of existing together.

In particular, ablutions were a kind of ritual during which a satisfying divarication between the sacred and the profane was celebrated - in the detachment from people and situations considered impure.

By staying away from the supposed filthiness, never could any of the unwashed be uplifted.

So the rules were not a source of peace, but of bondage. To extend a charitable hand would even have been sacrilegious.

In short, inhuman trifles were placed before the Law itself, thwarting its inclusive spirit (fraternity would have benefited the enthusiasm to exist).

Jesus could not tolerate the closed world of conformist religiosity being bent and used to ascertain the existence of others with judgement, to divide and discriminate - to annihilate relationships.

This is why the control of the Pharisees is opposed by the freedom of the disciples (v.2), who refuse to obey that which does not make sense for concrete life - where visible love feeds ideal love.

In ancient cultures, the religious and mythical view of the world led people to appreciate any reality from the category of holiness as detachment and separateness, even inaccessibility.

Purity laws indicated the conditions necessary to stand before God.

At the time of Mk some Jewish converts believed they could abandon their ancient customs and approach the pagans; others were of the opposite opinion: indeed, it would be like rejecting substantial parts of the Torah (e.g. Lev 11-16 and 17ff).

In fact, the Gospel emphasises that the problem is "in the house" (v.17 Greek text: "within the house") i.e. in the Church and among its members.

Christ must insist on teaching, now not addressed to strangers, but precisely to the habitués, incapable - unlike the crowds - of "understanding" (v.14) the abc of spiritual things.

There is no sacred and profane in itself.

In order to educate the stubborn ones still "devoid of intellect" (v.18) who consider themselves masters, the Lord does not go to just any dwelling place - but to the place where, unfortunately, expectations far removed from the people are cultivated (vv.14.17).

In short, only Jesus in Person frees the crowd of the voiceless and lost from the obsession of torments and fears, from always being on the defensive.

And even if some leaders accuse, let us learn not to feel dismay that we are not religiously 'successful' - but Firstfruits!