[15 August 2026]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Responsorial Psalm (44/45) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D’Ercole

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Legalistic conception and hardness of heart

(Mt 19:3-12)

The controversy with the fanatics of the law highlights the need for a new messianic community, which goes beyond the exclusively legalistic moral conception.

The theme chosen by the Pharisees lent itself to putting Jesus in difficulty regarding the ideal of love.

The marriage law required the wife to become the property of her husband.

So in any case the divorce redounded to the detriment of the woman, always seen as an inferior being.

In the society of the time, male domination and marginalization of the weak were established situations.

To protect the freedom of women [Dt 24:1-4], the law required that the tired husband (even for a nonsense or whim) still wrote a divorce "letter" that sanctioned her free.

Unlike Roman society, the wife did not have the same right: a social plague, which obscured her dignity. In practice she was like an object and a slave even in her own home.

But in creating the human being, this was not the intent of the Creator. Thus Jesus takes away the privileges - even domestic ones - asking for maximum equality of rights and duties.

He knew that the apostles themselves preferred not to marry than to renounce the exclusivity of command [v.10: «If the situation of a man with a woman is like this, it is not worth getting married»].

The Master does not allow the dominion of the strong over the weak, therefore the man must lose hegemony over the woman. The new law is love, and love does not allow possessions, emotional exploitation, fixed chains of command.

Both marriage and celibacy are choices that recognize the value of the Person. Awe-inspiring options for God's Kingdom - not in the service of any compromise, supremacy, or other pretentious interests.

The divine plan for humanity is transparent, broad and generous. The marriage union itself is called to express the goal of a fullness.

The stronger does not buy the weaker in ownership, but both enrich each other - with loyalty and even in differences, seen as advanced points of a proposal for growth and expansion.

Christ demands a new approach to ethics. This goes beyond the regulations, which they try to adapt to the order.

Therefore, the Lord's teaching here appeals to the divine creative Act which has engraved a capacity for gift and growth in person's nature - and it cannot be regulated by contract clauses, nor subjected to conditioning and subjection.

The step of the Faith builds people and communities, completing them (without too many accelerations, or forced restrictions). For a Love that originates us without rest.

The Family thus becomes a ‘small domestic Church’ because it is both autonomous and comprehensive; no more nomenclatures, compromises, masks, gags or straitjackets.

Then the complementarity experienced in an authentic way - without exteriority - can go beyond the case studies of the legal systems.

In this way it has good personal and social outcomes, evoking the very Presence of God in the world.

[Friday 19th wk. in O.T.  August 14, 2026]

Mt 19:3-12 (cf. Gen 2:18-24)

We are familiar with the fluctuations of our emotionality: the person who now makes me lose my head, in a week's time will perhaps strike a nerve. Every morning we get up in a different mood; after a while the psyche gives opposite signals, then returns to its previous positions.

Obviously the invisible thread of the relationship cannot succeed happily and firmly if the assumptions are only seductive: it will end in an escalation of apathy or arguments.

The Word of God proposes a very wise discernment for engaged couples: the new birth.

A girl will leave her father if in the flamboyant relationship she discovers a prospect of improved security, and even greater fatherhood or protection possibilities; a young man will leave his mother if in the torch of the new relationship he sees a principle of welcome, listening and understanding unknown or superior to his own mother.

New Genesis: this is the unrenounceable vocational perspective, the only one capable of integrating the fatigue of putting oneself on the line and welcoming the idea in two of being able to also step out of one's own positions - even those at the beginning of the relationship.

In falling in love we allow ourselves to be activated and traversed by a mysterious Force that [even beyond the charm of the partner] wants to lead us to a sort of unleashing of hidden energies, in the incessant search for identity-character.

Love originates us, it leads us along a path not without interruptions, which incessantly force us back to the Beginning; to re-choose the values on which we have gambled. Hence, to be born and to begin anew, unexpectedly becoming more and more 'young'.

That flaming torch will make us make extraordinary encounters, first of all in the meaningful direction of the regenerated intimate; thus there will be no more need to capture the spouse, to keep him or her still or close to him or her.

It is the sacred desire that creates us; then - at Two - it becomes even more effectively the substance of what each one is called to be - through steps of happiness that prepare a new origination, a distinct outline and destiny.

All this so that from wave to wave, from birth to birth, and under the stimulus of continuous Dialogue, our essence is fulfilled, allowing the profound Calling by Name to flourish.

Natural complementarity can wear away with age, fatigue, frustrations. On the other hand, a reflection of absolute Love, which postpones and gives vertigo [because it places us in plots outside of time] is a spectacle that shakes, moves and conquers.

Irradiating God who creates (within us and in relationship), reflecting a great unceasing Origin within human unity, makes us be together - in two but with ourselves present, and be-With our Root.

An innate Source that does not express itself in straitjackets or in an identification: it gives meaning and breath even to the secondary, the repetitive and everyday that undermines - and seems to want us to fade into disenchantment.

If the idea of the Principle is always at home, it will no longer be necessary for the bark of everyday life to change, nor for too many situations to change: it is that glimpse of Eternity that makes one re-born into the (personal but complete) human project of Genesis.

It is a Presence... and a Source that generates, and the Life Horizon of the One who puts Himself into things... that changes so much of our little things.

The Action of the One who gives birth to the ancient and new radiance of the soul makes us grow and be born again, to be both with ourselves and more firmly together.

The Family becomes a small 'domestic church' from which 'the new citizens of human society are born' (Lumen Gentium no.11).

It thus manifests and unfolds the icon of a God who does not express Himself rigidly, but in creating.

Thanks to Parents who are able to second the "vocation proper to each one", in the new beginnings and in the rush of successive sprouts and buds each sapling "will leave his father and mother".

To internalise and live the message:

What more has the church experience given you in understanding the man-woman relationship? What about communion and autonomy?

Legalistic conception and hardness of heart

(Mt 19:3-12)

The polemic with the fanatics of the law emphasises the need for a new messianic community, which overcomes the exclusively legalistic moral conception.

The theme chosen by the Pharisees lent itself to challenging Jesus on the ideal of love.

The marriage law of the time required the wife to make herself the husband's property.

So in any case, divorce reverberated against the woman, always seen as an inferior being.

In the society of the time, macho domination and marginalisation of the weak were established situations.

In order to protect the woman's own freedom (Deut 24:1-4), the law required that the fed-up husband [even for a trifle or whim] should write a divorce 'letter' anyway, sanctioning her freedom.Unlike Roman society, the wife did not have the same right: a social plague, which obscured her dignity. In practice, she was like an object and a slave even in her own home.

But in creating the human being, this was not the Creator's intent. So Jesus removed privileges - even domestic privileges - demanding maximum equality of rights and duties.

He knew that the apostles themselves preferred not to marry than to renounce the exclusivity of leadership, even if only to scapegoat: "If the man's situation with the woman is like this, it is not convenient to marry" (Mt 19:10).

The Master does not allow the dominion of the strong over the weak; therefore man must lose his hegemony over woman.

The new law is love, and love does not allow possessions, emotional exploitation, fixed chains of command.

Both marriage and celibacy are choices that recognise the value of the Person. Awe-inspiring options for the sake of the Kingdom of God - not in the service of any compromise, supremacy, or other vested interests.

The divine plan for humanity is transparent, broad and generous. The marriage union itself - without being bound by domination or sector - is called to express the goal of fullness.

The stronger does not buy the weaker in property, but [shading from those rigid positions, without hypocrisy and field compromises] both are mutually enriched - with fairness and also in the divergences, taken as advanced points of a proposal of growth and expansion.

Christ demands a new approach to ethics [once 'jurisdiction-based'], now marked by primary values. This is beyond regulations, which seek to adapt to order... perhaps curbing our parodies, or mediocrity.

Thus, Christ's teaching here appeals to the divine creative Act, which in the nature of a person has engrained a capacity for gift and growth - and which cannot be regulated by contract clauses, nor subjected to conditioning and subjection.

The seed of love must be entrusted to the earth, even muddy soil; aware of one's own weakness and the power of other providential forces.

Even with steep or uncertain ground, if one does not rush into artificial prejudices (or lamentations of ingratitude) the very interweaving of the roots will genuinely produce its flowering.

In such a spontaneous, non-subordinate energetic current, a different self-denial will be built - where the given fact from being regular becomes an overcoming that unleashes other virtues or views.

Here, the step of Faith builds persons and communities, completing them (without too much acceleration, or imperial restrictions). For a Love that unceasingly originates us.

The Family thus becomes a 'little domestic Church' because it is both autonomous and inclusive; without nomenclature, compromises, masks, gags or straitjackets.

Then complementarity lived authentically - without externalities - can go beyond the casuistry of ordinances: it has good personal and social outcomes, evoking the very Presence of God in the world.

Gospel presents to us Jesus' words on marriage. He answered those who asked him whether it was lawful for a man to divorce his wife, as provided by a decree in Mosaic law (cf. Dt 24: 1), that this was a concession made to Moses because of man's "hardness of heart", whereas the truth about marriage dated back to "the beginning of creation" when, as is written of God in the Book of Genesis, "male and female he created them; for this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one" (Mk 10: 6-7; cf. Gn 1: 27; 2: 24).

And Jesus added: "So they are no longer two but one. What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder" (Mk 10: 8-9). This is God's original plan, as the Second Vatican Council also recalled in the Constitution Gaudium et Spes: "The intimate partnership of life and love which constitutes the married state has been established by the Creator and endowed by him with its own proper laws:  it is rooted in the contract of its partners... God himself is the author of marriage" (n. 48).

My thoughts now go to all Christian spouses: I thank the Lord with them for the gift of the Sacrament of Marriage, and I urge them to remain faithful to their vocation in every season of life, "in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health", as they promised in the sacramental rite.

Conscious of the grace they have received, may Christian husbands and wives build a family open to life and capable of facing united the many complex challenges of our time.

Today, there is a special need for their witness. There is a need for families that do not let themselves be swept away by modern cultural currents inspired by hedonism and relativism, and which are ready instead to carry out their mission in the Church and in society with generous dedication.

In the Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris Consortio, the Servant of God John Paul II wrote that "the sacrament of marriage makes Christian couples and parents witnesses of Christ "to the end of the earth', missionaries, in the true and proper sense, of love and life" (cf. n. 54). Their mission is directed both to inside the family - especially in reciprocal service and the education of the children - and to outside it. Indeed, the domestic community is called to be a sign of God's love for all.

The Christian family can only fulfil this mission if it is supported by divine grace. It is therefore necessary for Christian couples to pray tirelessly and to persevere in their daily efforts to maintain the commitments they assumed on their wedding day.

I invoke upon all families, especially those in difficulty, the motherly protection of Our Lady and of her husband Joseph. Mary, Queen of the family, pray for us!

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 8 October 2006]

1. The family in the modern world, as much as and perhaps more than any other institution, has been beset by the many profound and rapid changes that have affected society and culture. Many families are living this situation in fidelity to those values that constitute the foundation of the institution of the family. Others have become uncertain and bewildered over their role or even doubtful and almost unaware of the ultimate meaning and truth of conjugal and family life. Finally, there are others who are hindered by various situations of injustice in the realization of their fundamental rights.

Knowing that marriage and the family constitute one of the most precious of human values, the Church wishes to speak and offer her help to those who are already aware of the value of marriage and the family and seek to live it faithfully, to those who are uncertain and anxious and searching for the truth, and to those who are unjustly impeded from living freely their family lives. Supporting the first, illuminating the second and assisting the others, the Church offers her services to every person who wonders about the destiny of marriage and the family.

In a particular way the Church addresses the young, who are beginning their journey towards marriage and family life, for the purpose of presenting them with new horizons, helping them to discover the beauty and grandeur of the vocation to love and the service of life.

[Pope John Paul II, Familiaris Consortio]

Gospel reading (cf. Mk 10:2-16) offers us Jesus’ words on marriage. The passage opens with the provocation of the Pharisees who ask Jesus if it is “lawful for a man to divorce his wife”, as the Law of Moses provides (cf. vv. 2-4). Jesus firstly, with the wisdom and authority that come to him from the Father, puts the Mosaic prescription into perspective, saying: “For your hardness of heart he” — that is, the ancient legislator — “wrote you this commandment” (v. 5). Thus it is a concession that is needed to mend the flaws created by our selfishness, but it does not correspond to the Creator’s original intention.

And here, Jesus again takes up the Book of Genesis: “from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female’. ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one’” (vv. 6-8). And he concludes: “What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder” (v. 9). In the Creator’s original plan, it is not that a man marries a woman and, if things do not go well, he repudiates her. No. Rather, the man and the woman are called to recognize each other, to complete each other, to help each other in marriage.

This teaching of Jesus is very clear and defends the dignity of marriage as a union of love which implies fidelity. What allows the spouses to remain united in marriage is a love of mutual giving supported by Christ’s grace. However, if in the spouses, individual interests, one’s own satisfaction prevails, then their union cannot endure.

And the Gospel passage itself reminds us, with great realism, that man and woman, called to experience a relationship of love, may regretfully behave in a way that places it in crisis. Jesus does not admit all that can lead to the failure of the relationship. He does so in order to confirm God’s plan, in which the power and beauty of the human relationship emerge. The Church, on the one hand, does not tire of confirming the beauty of the family as it was consigned to us by Scripture and by Tradition; at the same time, she strives to make her maternal closeness tangibly felt by those who experience relationships that are broken or that continue in a difficult and trying way.

God’s way of acting with his unfaithful people — that is, with us — teaches us that wounded love can be healed by God through mercy and forgiveness. For this reason in these situations, the Church is not asked to express immediately and only condemnation. On the contrary, before so many painful marital failures, she feels called to show love, charity and mercy, in order to lead wounded and lost hearts back to God.

Let us invoke the Virgin Mary, that she help married couples to always live and renew their union, beginning with God’s original Gift.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 7 October 2018]

(Mt 18:21-19,1)

Throughout the ancient Middle East, non-disproportionate retaliation one to one [not cruel] was a sacred law.

Forgiveness was a humiliating and absurd attitude, an incomprehensible principle to anyone experiencing any injustice.

Conversely, in the dynamic of Faith, forgiveness becomes a power, which not only makes the air breathable, but activates our personal destiny.

Peter instead wants to know the limits of forgiveness (v.21).

Historically, at the end of the first century the picky, severe, style of the synagogue and of the Empire [«divide et impera»] reappear in believers. 

A question arises: will we have to stop welcoming?

In addition, in the same churches one begins to think that someone has sinned in lese majesty towards those who - now hard and heartless - are used to being revered.

Veterans who make trouble more than others and then dot on the minutiae of others (the weak brothers, considered subjected and destined to the fiscal rigour of moralisms, as well as penances).

While religious discipline exacerbates minute defects, the very experience of the disproportion between the forgiveness received from the Father and what we are able to offer to the brothers, makes us understand the need for tolerance.

Church should be this space of the experience of God who return life, an alternative place of fraternity.

Imperial society was harsh and uncompassionate, with no room for the small and shaky, who unassumingly sought any refuge for their hearts - but no religion gave them an answer.

Synagogues, too, identified material and spiritual blessings. Cloaked with requirements, purity rules and fulfilments, they did not offer the warmth of a welcoming place for the weak.

The issue was that in the early Christian communities themselves, some people insisted on the rigour of norms, customs and hierarchies, demanding coexistence based on the Judaizing model.

Furthermore, as the Letter of James testifies, towards the end of the first century the identical divisions of society, between miserables and wealthy, were already beginning to manifest themselves in the churches of Christ!

Welcoming space of the communities that in the Spirit had been given the task by the Lord to enlighten the world with their seed of life as a ‘shelter for all’ (and of alternative relationships) ran the risk of becoming again a place of conflict, judgement, punishment, condemnation.

«So also my heavenly Father will do to you, if you do not condone each one to his own brother from your heart» (v.35).

Divine forgiveness becomes effective and evident only in the testimony of the Church (v.35) where sisters and brothers - instead of showing themselves to be meticulous, let themselves be guided by a Vision of new heavens and new earth.

For this reason - without any effort, indeed blessing the needs of others as territories of preparatory energies - they live the communion of resources and remit even material debts, a misery.

Otherwise, we would always have to live in the incumbency of an indulgent God perhaps, but at times, and according to the cases retracting the doing of mercy.

It would be a life without surprising developments, all weighted down in a swamp of little pennies.

Instead, it is the active energy of the Faith that does not condemn us to trudge.

The magnanimity that comes out of the automatisms shifts our gaze and brings us an ineffable and growing wave, far ahead of what we can imagine.

Our surrenders are preparing new developments - the ones that count, without limitations.

The "win-or-lose" alternative is false: you have to get out of it.

[Thursday 19th wk. in O.T.  August 13, 2026]

(Mt 18:21-19:1)

Throughout the ancient Middle East, disproportionate retaliation (one for one, not cruel) was sacred law.

Forgiveness was a humiliating and absurd attitude, an incomprehensible principle for anyone who experienced injustice or tragedy.

Conversely, in the dynamic of faith, forgiveness becomes a power that not only makes the air breathable, but also activates our personal destiny.

The Gospel according to Matthew devotes considerable attention to the theme of forgiveness and the need to resolve internal friction within the Church, where everyone seems to want to crush the other, even if only out of spiritual envy.

One wonders: is there a different counterpart to the pagan principle of retributive justice [uncuique jus suum], which, taken to extremes, ends up accentuating divisions?

What is the most reasonable behaviour for those who have been welcomed by God and forgiven in an exorbitant way?

It is not enough to counter this with a good-natured, even noble, value - but for this very reason, out of proportion - if it excludes the time of a journey, the horizon of development that ultimately supplants [and does not simply overlook: the so-called 'being positive'].

The only solution free of dormant revenge is to have a sense of the immeasurable, of gratuitous forethought - received without merit or conditions; with a view to new paths.

First of all, we must realise that the decisive element in overcoming obstacles is not our strength or an induced voluntarism, which tears us and our brothers apart and destroys the atmosphere of conviviality.

Only a dizzying emotion can integrate our impulses and all our affections, and bring to the surface the seeds of passions that make us dizzy.

Personal or external ecstasy; unknown and neglected or unexpressed, to which we have not yet given space.

In fact, in our daily lives, it seems normal to react immediately and violate situations with impudence, then raise hell over minor infractions by others - even claiming to suffocate those responsible for trifles.

Obviously, even immediately after we have begged and promised in the ritual.

Matthew offers even paradoxical nuances on forgiveness, always placing his catechesis on a priceless level, in the perspective of spousal and creative faith.

He insists on this in several passages because the communities he addresses are very poor, still rooted in the narrow-mindedness of ancient religiosity.

As happens not only in groups linked to the baggage of the tradition of the 'fathers' - not of the Father - the members of the communities of Galilee and Syria experienced the normality of disagreements, different opinions and all conflicts as an affront.

It seems incredible, but those who feel they possess a licence of immunity [linked to futuristic myths or sacred inhibitions, outdated restraints and observances or cosmic projects of abstract subversion] find it more difficult to enter into the minute logic of coexistence, of confrontation - of disproportion, of boundlessness, of the Gift that favours coexistence itself.

Peter wants to know the limits of forgiveness (v. 21).

Historically, at the end of the first century, the scrupulous, severe style of the synagogue and the Empire [divide et impera: 'divide and rule'] had reappeared among believers.

The question arose and was raised again: should we stop welcoming?

In addition, within the churches themselves, people began to think that some had committed lese majesty against those who, now hardened and heartless, were accustomed to being revered.

Veterans who did more than others and then nitpicked at the minutiae of others (the weak brothers, considered subordinates and destined for the fiscal rigour of moralism and penance).

Does the insolvent debtor of the Gospel take it out on those who owe him a few pennies?

The excessive forgiveness of the living and true God can only be manifested to the world through a community that raises grudges and relationships to a new level - simply a more normal one.

The Tao Te Ching (x) says: 'Let creatures live and feed them, let them live and do not keep them as your own; work and expect nothing, let them grow and do not govern them. This is the mysterious virtue'.

In commentary, Master Wang Pi writes: 'The Tao never acts, creatures transform themselves. Do not obstruct their source, do not hinder their nature. Creatures grow and satisfy themselves by themselves'.

Master Ho-shang Kung adds: 'The Tao makes the ten thousand creatures grow and nourishes them, but does not harm them by governing them as if they were instruments. The implementation of virtue by the Tao is mysterious and obscure, and cannot be scrutinised. It wants to induce men to be like the Tao'.

Even today, legalistic practice exaggerates minor faults, but the very experience of the disproportion between the forgiveness received from the Father and what we are able to offer to our brothers and sisters makes us understand the need for indulgence.

Tolerance lived in a situation, not just in principle.

Even more so in times of global crisis, the Church should be this space of experience of God who restores life. An alternative place of fraternity that is less cheap, less sophisticated.

Imperial society was harsh and without compassion, with no room for the small and weak, who without too many pretensions sought any refuge for their hearts - but no religion responded to their need for understanding.

Even the synagogues identified material and spiritual blessings. Shrouded in prior requirements, purity rules and obligations, they did not offer the warmth of a welcoming place for the weak.

The trouble was that in the early Christian communities themselves, some insisted on strict rules.

They demanded that people live together according to the Jewish model or according to rigid, abstract principles that had no practical application.

Furthermore, as the letter of James testifies, towards the end of the first century, the same divisions that existed in society were already beginning to appear in the churches of Christ, between the poor and the wealthy!

The welcoming space of the communities that had been given the task by the Lord in the Spirit to enlighten the world with their seed of life as Houses for all, of alternative relationships, was in danger of becoming once again a place of conflict, judgement, punishment and condemnation.

As usual: no Good News for the least, who were exhausted everywhere. 

And this unspeakable climate sowed death even for others, even those more fortunate - but trapped in harsh reality.

What to do?

The fundamental educational function of the Church is still to include; to make people understand that the initiative can only come from the creditor (vv. 21-22, 27, 33): he too is one of the 'lost' (v. 25).

Only through an intimate awareness of the Faith can we overcome the ruthlessness of competition and retributive justice.

There is no wisdom in being pretentious and unforgiving just to feel important (vv. 28-30).

Our failures are preparing new developments - those that matter, without limitations.

"So also my heavenly Father will do to you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart" (v. 35).

Divine forgiveness becomes effective and evident in the witness of the Church, where sisters and brothers, instead of being petty, are moved to help one another.

They allow themselves to be guided by a vision of new heavens and a new earth.

For this reason, without any effort, indeed blessing the needs of others as territories of preparatory energies, they live in communion of resources and forgive even material debts, which are ultimately a poverty.

Otherwise, we would always have to live under the shadow of a God of retribution.

And in this way we would reveal him: perhaps indulgent, but only for a time; a God who withdraws his mercy, as Pope Francis would say.

Thus, we would live under the whip of our tormentors, who advocate a way of life that is proper but artificial, made up of exchanges without imagination.

An anticipated hell of pettiness, which underestimates and ridicules the Measure of the Gospel. Good News that goes hand in hand with differences.

Even the balancing of remissions would not save us from the offence (this one truly enormous) of stagnation that levels essences - and therefore from ruin.

It is beautiful and fruitful to live in the imbalance of gratuitousness, rather than in giving and receiving. This also happens with God.

Through forgiveness, we not only improve the obsessive atmosphere and attest to our belief - e.g. in the Cross - but we also build a flexible and malleable experience, full of recovery and being. 

Amazement; openness, flexibility, disproportion.

The rest remains mere commentary.

Echoes of a subject that trivially proposes to ratify the 'contract'.

Traces of an environment that remains where it is - until new forces take over.

It would be a life without wonderful developments, weighed down by the 'do ut des' and the swamp of small change.

Instead, it is the active energy of Faith that overcomes defined agreements. And it does not condemn us to struggle.

The ever-increasing magnanimity that emerges from automatisms shifts the gaze away from small cuts.

It brings an ineffable and growing Wave. Much further ahead than we can imagine.

The 'victory or defeat' alternative is false: we must get out of it.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you know how to live in the imbalance of gratuitousness?

Do you rush and judge, or do you perceive and wait?

Is your life of faith constituted by the giving and receiving typical of banal religion, or by the awareness that you are bound to echo what the Father has already given you in abundance?

What is the space for reconciliation in your reality?

What do you mean in concrete terms by the Gospel?

Forgiveness and Faith: A living encounter

Eccentric gratuitousness, moving forward: the sacrament of humanity as such

(Lk 17:1-6)

Knowledge of God is not a confiscated good or an acquired and already seized science: it moves from one action to another, incessantly; it is realised in an ever-living Encounter that neither blocks us nor dissolves us.

The experience of the 'little ones' [mikròi v.2] is typical. From the earliest communities of faith, they were those who lacked security and energy; unstable and without support.

The 'little ones' have always been the beginners, the newcomers who have heard about Christian brotherhood but are sometimes forced to stand aside or give up the journey.

But the criterion of welcome, tolerance, communion, even of material goods, was the first and main catalyst for the growth of the assemblies.

It was even the source and meaning of all the formulas and signs of the liturgy.

The existential and ideal centre towards which to converge. For a proactive and self-transforming faith.

In the Spirit of the Master, even for us, the reconciliation of friction is not simply a work of magnanimity.

It is the beginning of the future world. The beginning of an unpredictable and indescribable adventure. And with it, we are suddenly reborn: we have come into direct contact with Christ. He who does not extinguish us at all.

Hence the Christian forgiveness of children, which is not... 'looking on the bright side' and 'turning a blind eye': rather, it is the Newness of God that creates an environment of Grace, propulsive, with enormous possibilities.

A force that bursts forth and paradoxically allows the dark poles to meet, instead of shaking them off. Genuinely eliminating comparisons, useless words and burdens that block the transparent Exodus.

A dynamic that leads to the indispensable and essential: shifting one's gaze. Teaching us to become aware of our own hysteria, to know ourselves, to face anxiety and its causes, to manage situations and moments of crisis.

A malleable virtue that allows us to listen intimately to our personal essence.

Thus, solid, broad empathy introduces new energies; it brings together our deepest states, even our standard lives... giving rise to other knowledge, different perspectives, unexpected relationships.

In this way, without too much struggle, it renews us and curbs the loss of truthfulness [typically in favour of circumstantial manners]. It accentuates the capacity and horizons of Peace - breaking down primates and stagnant equilibriums.

The discovery of new sides to our being conveys a sense of greater completeness, thus spontaneously curbing external influences, dissolving prejudices and preventing us from acting on an emotional, impulsive basis.

Rather, it places us in a position to reveal the hidden and astonishing meaning of being. Unfolding the crucial horizon.

Activating 'Forgiveness' is a free restoration of one's character, of all lost dignity, and far beyond.

By setting aside judgements, the art of tolerance broadens our gaze [even our inner gaze]. It improves and enhances the dull aspects of ourselves, those we ourselves had detested.

In this eccentric way, it transforms those considered distant or mediocre [mikroi] into trailblazers and brilliant inventors. Because what was unthinkable yesterday will be a source of clarification and inspiration tomorrow.

Confusion will acquire meaning - precisely thanks to the thinking of minds in crisis and the actions of the despised, the intruders, those outside the circle and beyond predictability.

A life of pure faith in the Spirit: that is, the imagination of the 'weak'... in power.

Because it is the paradoxical mechanism that makes us evaluate the crossroads of history, activates passions, creates sharing and solves real problems.

And so it pushes difficult moments forward (bringing us back to the true path) and directs reality towards concrete good.

Making it fly towards itself.

The 'victory or defeat' alternative is false: we must get out of it. It is in this 'void' and Silence that God makes his way.

Mystery of Presence, overflowing. New Covenant.