Only Quality is binding. No forced compliance

(Mt 22:34–40)

Jesus turns what was the most trivial of catechism questions into a crucial issue: what is the ‘great’ commandment? 

Despite the various theological schools of thought, the answer was known to all: the Sabbath rest, the only precept observed (even) by God.

The question put to the Master by the expert in the Law was not so innocent, but ‘to test him’ (Mt 22:35; Lk 10:25) – that is, to retort: ‘So why, then, do you not fulfil the Sabbath commandment?’

Christ simplifies the tangled web of disputes concerning the expansion or reduction of theoretical casuistry, and gets to the heart of the matter.

Always averse to doctrinal squabbles, He proposes a way of life as the unifying principle of the demands of the Covenant.

All rules have an essence; otherwise, they remain a scattered jumble. They find their spontaneous foundation and natural meaning in the gift of self – though a motivated one.

But what is the solid foundation and context of such an invitation? A vague feeling, one emotion amongst many, a passing impulse? Philanthropy? Or an experience?

We are thirsty for affection and offer friendship in fits and starts, to the extent that love becomes a source of misunderstandings, rooted in the need to feel complete.

This is why the second commandment appears as an explanation of the first, not a reduction of it [Mt 22:39; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27].

In the ancient world, it made no sense to speak of love for God, the ineffable Mystery.

It was the Most High who favoured certain individuals by bestowing material fortune upon them, and these individuals recognised a duty of worship and sacrifice towards Him.

The same applied to the less fortunate, at least to avoid reprisals (and to keep him on their side).

With Jesus, we speak openly of gratuitousness – not mere gratitude – as the unifying core of both the individual and the history of salvation.

The idea of an exchange of favours comes to an end.

The Father needs nothing; He does not take pleasure in seeing us submissive or in feeling recognised [a pattern of pagan religiosity] as a sovereign might towards his subjects.

The relationship with the Eternal One remains concrete, but honour towards the Most High is manifested by embracing His plan for the good and growth of humankind, and by recognising oneself within it.

God’s plan unfolds… with a living urgency. But there is a Starting Point, a Centre and a Destination. In reality, a new Genesis.

In any case, only God’s initiative draws out the best in us: more talent, more desire, more interests, more untapped abilities, more originality – rather than torments that hurt the soul.

This is the difference between a form of religiosity that dulls the personality, and Faith.

Through Faith, a special creative Relationship is kindled: that of the one who welcomes the Call by Name, as well as the proposals from the very Source of being – wave upon wave.

These proposals anticipate our own initiatives and guide us infallibly towards the perfect blossoming of our own and others’ Seed.

Particularly in Matthew (22:38–39) and Mark (12:29–31), it is clear that love for one’s neighbour stems from the experience and awareness of being loved first and without preconditions by God – looked upon, accepted, valued, uplifted, rejoiced in, and made whole.

We love not through effort [effort is a coercive lever: it produces situations that make life worse] but on the basis of how much we feel loved – and with immediacy, repeatedly, unconditionally.

We love on the basis of the ‘risking everything’ that we have already experienced in our own favour through Providence, which gives meaning and value to human actions.

Not out of infatuation with external, induced expectations – which, in any case, belong to others.

Even in the spiritual realm, quite a few behaviours deemed capable of solving problems often end up making them chronic.

In this way, they rely on an idea of permanence – not on the dynamic of vocational gratuitousness, on the unimaginable Gift to be received.

So the issue is either to live according to the resources that come our way, or to fall into the distortion of models typical of a moralistic mindset.

In fact, the notion of omnipotence in the realm of good, paradoxically, stifles the self and its strengths, and distorts its perspective.

But beyond all these nuances, we are heartened that the first and second commandments concern Love: what we most desire to give and receive. It is a vital necessity of life.

Yet we must be wise, so that the framework of paradigms or the impulses of natural affection and impulsiveness do not overwhelm and sweep away – turning upside down – every good intention.

Love cannot bear an excess of expectations, for it springs from an experience of Perfection that comes to us; offered, unexpected, unpredictable. Not staged according to a chain of ordinary, pre-determined plans.

If it is authentic, over time we shall experience its blossoming; not in anticipation of a return, but first and foremost as a Gift beyond time. For it has already sated and convinced us – with contemplative wonder – and made us leap for joy.

Thus, the vocational and foundational Eros will continue to shape us, with its perpetually exploratory virtue, capable of bringing about new Births.

Personal energy – without the usual baggage of torment, reservations, outward appearances… and (once again) frowns.

The Great Commandment: only profound Quality is binding

The only disposition in which the Father recognises Himself is Love, in its fullness and in every respect; not some particular precept.

For Jesus, there are no hierarchies in the affairs of God and man – indeed, He showed a marked tendency to summarise the many principles – because only profound Quality is binding.

The Master’s spiritual teaching embraced the narrative of the people of God and the practice of the Prophets: all heart, feet, hands – and intellect.

Complete love for God must envelop the creature in every decision [heart].

Likewise, in every moment and aspect of one’s concrete ‘life’, it must also engage all one’s resources [strengths: cf. Mk 12:30; Lk 10:27].

Deut 6:5 (Hebrew text) in fact reads: ‘with all your “very much”’, meaning concrete participation in both liturgical life and material fellowship – providing for and helping with one’s own possessions.

Matt 22:37 does not explicitly mention this latter aspect, perhaps to emphasise that the Father does not drain one’s energy in any way, but rather imparts it.

But Jesus adds to the nuances of authentic communion with God enumerated in the First Testament an unexpected dimension for those who conceive of love as a delicate, purely emotional sentiment.

The Lord suggests the study, discernment and understanding of our perceptions [Mt 22:37; Mk 12:30; Lk 10:27], accompanied by the mental aspect and profound intelligence (which is excluded in Deut 6).

At first glance, this seems like a secondary facet or even a mere embellishment for the qualitative leap from a common religious sense to a life of Faith wisely and personally shaped.

The exact opposite is true: we are children of a Father who does not supplant us, nor does He absorb our potential or energies, thereby depersonalising us; not even from a mental perspective.

This is a crucial aspect of our dignity and fulfilment – including our human fulfilment – and a specific distinguishing feature in discerning Faith in Christ, as opposed to all other approaches devoted to the search for the Absolute (whatever that may be).

Practicality alone renders us fragile and lacking in awareness; and when we are not convinced, we cannot even be relied upon, remaining perpetually at the mercy of changing circumstances and the conformist, fashionable opinions of others.

It is not uncommon to shy away from the all-encompassing engagement that would enrich each of us – precisely because of incompetence.

But we are not one-sided gullible souls. Being attentive and up to date, and possessing the capacity for critical thought, is an essential expansion required for the development of one’s human, moral, cultural and spiritual vocation.

Trivialities, superficial identifications, impersonal plagiarism and thoughtless, collective repetitions hinder the flow of life, this divine cascade of everlasting energy that pulses and never ceases.

On the contrary, it comes with stirring calls: it calls us to open ourselves wide to new attractions in relationships and other interests, including intellectual ones; even denominational ones.

Jesus does not speak of love for God in terms of intimacy and sentiment, but of a wholly all-encompassing affinity, made less uncertain precisely by the development of our wisdom in assessing these matters.

Devotion swallows everything up. Faith, on the other hand, does not allow itself to be swayed by local or external influences: it presupposes an ability to engage competently in personal assessments or in debates within the community and on a broader scale – both historical and contemporary.

The witness of our Hope does not shy away from being enriched by dialogue with those who possess greater expertise in psychology or biblical studies, specialised pastoral care and social work, as well as archaeology, bioethics, economics, science and so on.

This is a commitment that demonstrates a genuine interest in the Sacred [admittedly, all aspects to be assessed, not as if they were merely academic options].

But we must admit that one of the most organic expressions of great Catholic theology is what was once called the ‘doctrine’ of the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit.

In the existence of Love, the primacy (including the relational primacy) of the Gift of the Spirit was recognised, which complemented the ‘natural’ possibilities of expression of the cardinal and theological virtues, leading them to fulfilment.

No fewer than four of the seven Gifts were associated with a character of profound knowledge: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel and Knowledge.

In short: here lies yet another decisive rendezvous for all-encompassing Love.

Anyone can indulge in a few remarks along religious lines [whether as an individual or within a circle], but the ability to delve into the matter properly belongs only to those who have sought to examine and live out these themes – because they are more interested in understanding the Face of God and His Plan for humanity than in reiterating false narrative certainties.

It would be unnatural to recognise a Lord of Heaven who does not come to meet us; as if He were towering above us with ‘His own’ objective (external to us) and thus rendering us all marginal.

[In sects – even those that appear good-natured – it is forbidden to delve deeper in order to understand: the position is already established; the candidate must ‘merely’ conform].

‘As (and why) yourself’ [meaning of the Greek text: Mt 22:39; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27]: this is a new Birth into life, a new Genesis in the spirit of Gift.

The paradox suggested by Jesus goes beyond the ancient precept of Lev 19:18. 

We love not only the children of our own people, ‘simply because’ we take care to come together and wish to enrich ourselves together, expanding the ‘I’ into the ‘You’.

God’s ‘Great Commandment’ encompasses real life and concerns not only the quality of our relationship with the world and our neighbour, but also our reflective relationship with ourselves.

We must not be afraid of other doctrines and disciplines, nor neglect analytical challenges beyond the ‘organic’ ones – those of the long term.

All of them call into question our beliefs, our actions, our own worldview; our language, style, and thought itself.

We still have a great need to broaden our minds and become as vast as a panorama. And to reharmonise the opposites we carry within us.

Hidden facets and pearls to which we have not yet given breath or visibility – and which we may never have considered as allies.

The troubled fate shared by prophets remains unique, but it is not certainties (whether ancient, sophisticated, fashionable or à la page) that constitute the added value of the adventure of Faith in Love – rather, it is the risk of placing oneself in the balance and a comprehensive re-evaluation.

It is, moreover, pointless to complain if ecclesial realities that fail to keep up with the times, and remain mired in inherited clichés, slowly decay and thus disappear.

Despite their dazzling heritage and fairy-tale events.

In this way, the ‘teacher of the law’ is perhaps already close [Mk 12:34; Lk 10:28] but must still keep an eye on Jesus, to understand in Him the broader meaning of total self-giving, in its specifically personalised form, which is by no means naïve.

The Lord restores the meaning of the norms to their profound and original function: to serve as a provision for every Encounter that elevates events, people of every background, and creation itself.

In conclusion, experience and ritual find their centre in the reciprocity of love.

Life in all its facets becomes a Liturgy more meaningful than the established act of worship; its truly broken Bread becomes a compelling call to Communion and Mission.

Even if it does not make the news, the true barometer of our journey will not be the volume or the pile of important things we do, but rather the beating of a regenerated heart and mind.

This is why, to the ancient notes of true Love, the Son of God adds the quality of thought: we are not gullible, naive or one-sided.

Our outstretched hands are the fruit of a free and conscious choice. There is no forced submission.

‘A faith that does not become culture is a faith that has not been fully embraced, not entirely thought through, not faithfully lived’ [John Paul II].

To internalise and live out the message:

What is Great to you? Titles? Possessions, power, appearances?

In your experience of Love, what is the Starting Point, the Centre and the Destination?

Do you keep yourself informed and up to date so that you can better respond to God’s Call?

The Word of the Lord, resounding a short while ago in the Gospel, reminded us that the whole divine law is summarized in love. The Evangelist Matthew narrates that after Jesus had answered the Sadducees, silencing them, the Pharisees met to put him to the test (cf. 22: 34-35). One of them, a doctor of law, asked him: "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?" (22: 36). The question makes apparent the concern, present in ancient Jewish tradition, over finding a unifying principle in the various formulations of God's will. This was not an easy question, considering that in the law of Moses, a good 613 precepts and prohibitions are contemplated. How does one discern, among all of these, which is the most important? But Jesus does not hesitate, and readily responds: "You shall love the Lord your God with your all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment" (22: 37-38). Jesus quotes the Shemà in his answer, the prayer the pious Israelite recites several times a day, especially in the morning and in the evening (cf. Dt 6: 4-9; 11: 13-21; Nm 15: 37-41): the proclamation of the integral and total love due to God, as the only Lord. Emphasis is placed on the totality of this dedication to God, listing the three faculties that define man in his deep psychological structures: heart, soul and mind. The word mind, diánoia, contains the rational element. God is not only the object of love, commitment, will and sentiment, but also of the intellect, which should not be excluded from this milieu. Then, however, Jesus adds something which, in truth, had not been asked by the doctor of law: "And a second is like it, You must love your neighbour as yourself" (22: 39). The surprising aspect of Jesus' answer consists in the fact that he establishes a similarity between the first and the second commandments, defined this time too with a biblical formula drawn from the Levitical code of holiness (cf. Lv 19: 18). And thus by the end of the passage the two commandments become connected in the role of a fundamental union upon which all of biblical Revelation rests: "On these two commandments the whole law is based, and the prophets as well" (Mt 22: 40). 

The Gospel passage on which we are focusing makes clear that being disciples of Christ means practicing his teachings, which can be summarized in the first and greatest commandment of the divine law, the commandment of love. Even the First Reading, taken from the Book of Exodus, insists on the duty of love; a love witnessed concretely in relationships between persons, which must be relationships of respect, collaboration, generous help. The neighbour to be loved is the stranger, the orphan, the widow and the needy, in other words, those citizens who have no "defender". The holy author goes into details, as in the case of the object pawned by one of these poor persons (cf. Ex 22: 25-26). In this case God himself is the one to vouch for the neighbour's position. 

In the Second Reading, we can find a concrete application of the supreme commandment of love in one of the first Christian communities. St Paul writes to the Thessalonians, leading them to understand that, while having known them for such a short time, he appreciates them and holds them dear in his heart. Because of this, he pinpoints them as "a model for all the believers of Macedonia and Achaia" (1 Thes 1: 7). Weaknesses and difficulties are not lacking in this recently founded community, but it is love that surpasses all, renews all, conquers all: the love of those who, knowing their own limits, docilely follow the words of Christ, the divine Teacher, passed down through one of his faithful disciples. "You, in turn, became imitators of us and of the Lord, receiving the word despite great trials, with the joy that comes from the Holy Spirit", the Apostle wrote. He continued: "For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere" (1 Thes 1: 6, 8). The lesson that we can draw from the Thessalonians' experience, an experience that is truly common in every authentic Christian community, is that neighbourly love is born from docile listening to the divine Word. It is a love that will even withstand difficult trials for the truth of the divine Word, and in this way true love grows and truth shines in all its splendour. How important it is to listen to the Word and incarnate it in personal and community life!

[Pope Benedict, homily at the closing of the Ordinary Synod of Bishops, 26 October 2008]

2. Christ says: ‘If anyone loves me, they will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them…’ (Jn 14:23). At the very heart of Christ’s teaching lies the great commandment of love. This commandment was already enshrined in the tradition of the Old Testament, as today’s first reading, taken from the Book of Deuteronomy, bears witness.

When the Lord Jesus answers the question posed by one of the scribes, he refers to this version of the divine Law, revealed in the Old Covenant: ‘Which is the first of all the commandments?’. ‘The first is… you shall love… the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ‘And the second is this: you shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ ‘There is no other commandment greater than these’ (Mk 12:29–31).

3. That interlocutor, whom Saint Mark recalls, accepted Christ’s answer thoughtfully. He accepted it with profound approval. We too, today, need to reflect briefly on this ‘greatest commandment’, so that we may accept it anew with full approval and deep conviction. First and foremost, Christ emphasises the primacy of love in human life and vocation. Man’s greatest vocation is the call to love. Love also gives definitive meaning to human life. It is the essential condition of human dignity, the proof of the nobility of the human soul. St Paul will say that it is ‘the bond of perfection’ (Col 3:14). It is the greatest thing in human life, for true love embodies the dimension of eternity. It is immortal: ‘Love never fails’, as we read in the First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13:8). A person dies in the flesh, for such is the fate of everyone on earth; yet this death does not harm the love that has matured in their life. Certainly, it remains above all to bear witness to man before God, who is love. It designates man’s place in the Kingdom of God; within the order of the Communion of Saints. The Lord Jesus, speaking to his interlocutor in today’s Gospel – seeing that he understands the primacy of love amongst the commandments – says: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God” (Mk 12:34).

4. There are two commandments of love – as the Master expressly states in his reply – but there is only one love. One and the same love embraces both God and one’s neighbour. God: above all things, for He is above all. One’s neighbour: on a human scale, and therefore “as oneself”.

These ‘two loves’ are so closely linked that one cannot exist without the other. St John says as much elsewhere: ‘For whoever does not love their brother whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen’ (1 John 4:20). One love cannot, therefore, be separated from the other. True love for one’s neighbour, precisely because it is true love, is, at the same time, love for God. This may surprise some people. It is certainly surprising. When the Lord Jesus presents to his listeners the vision of the Last Judgement, as recounted in the Gospel of Saint Matthew, he says: ‘I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you welcomed me; I was naked and you clothed me; I was ill and you visited me; I was in prison and you came to see me’ (Mt 25:35–36).

Then those who hear these words are astonished, for we hear them ask: ‘Lord, when did we ever do any of these things for you?’. And the reply: ‘Truly I tell you: whenever you did these things for one of these least of my brothers and sisters – that is, for your neighbour: for one of your fellow human beings – you did it for me’ (cf. Mt 25:37, 40).

5. This truth is of great importance for our whole life and for our conduct. It is particularly important for those who seek to love their fellow human beings, but ‘do not know whether they love God’ or even declare that they do not ‘know’ how to love him.

This difficulty is easy to explain when one takes into account the whole nature of man, his entire psychology. It is, in a certain sense, easier for man to love what he sees than what he does not see (cf. 1 John 4:20).

6. Yet man is called—and called with great firmness, as the words of the Lord Jesus bear witness—to love God, to a love that surpasses all else. If we reflect on this commandment, on the meaning of the words already written in the Old Testament and repeated with such determination by Christ, we must recognise that they tell us a great deal about man himself. They reveal the deepest and, at the same time, definitive perspective on his being, on his humanity. If Christ assigns to man such love as a task—that is, the love of God which he, as a human being, cannot see—this means that the human heart harbours within itself the capacity for this love, that the human heart is created ‘tailored to such love’. Is this not, perhaps, the first truth about man, namely that he is the image and likeness of God himself? Does not Saint Augustine speak of the human heart which remains restless until it finds rest in God? Thus, then, the commandment to love God above all things reveals a scale of man’s inner possibilities. This is not an abstract scale. It has been reaffirmed and is constantly confirmed by all those who take their faith—the fact of being Christian—seriously. Yet there is no shortage of people who have heroically confirmed this scale of man’s inner possibilities.

[Pope John Paul II, homily, 4 November 1979]

Today’s Gospel Reading reminds us that the whole of Divine Law can be summed up in our love for God and neighbour. Matthew the Evangelist recounts that several Pharisees colluded to put Jesus to the test (cf. 22: 34-35). One of them, a doctor of the law, asked him this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the law?” (v. 36). Jesus, quoting the Book of Deuteronomy, answered: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment” (vv. 37-38). And he could have stopped there. Yet, Jesus adds something that was not asked by the doctor of the law. He says, in fact: “And a second is like it, You shall love your neighbour as yourself” (v. 39). And in this case too, Jesus does not invent the second commandment, but takes it from the Book of Leviticus. The novelty is in his placing these two commandments together — love for God and love for neighbour — revealing that they are in fact inseparable and complementary, two sides of the same coin. You cannot love God without loving your neighbour and you cannot love your neighbour without loving God. Pope Benedict gave us a beautiful commentary on this topic in his first Encyclical Deus Caritas Est (nn. 16-18). 

In effect, the visible sign a Christian can show in order to witness to his love for God to the world and to others, to his family, is the love he bears for his brothers. The Commandment to love God and neighbour is the first, not because it is at the top of the list of Commandments. Jesus does not place it at the pinnacle but at the centre, because it is from the heart that everything must go out and to which everything must return and refer. 

In the Old Testament, the requirement to be holy, in the image of God who is holy, included the duty to care for the most vulnerable people, such as the stranger, the orphan and the widow (cf. Ex 22:20-26). Jesus brings this Covenant law to fulfilment; He who unites in himself, in his flesh, divinity and humanity, a single mystery of love. 

Now, in the light of this Word of Jesus, love is the measure of faith, and faith is the soul of love. We can no longer separate a religious life, a pious life, from service to brothers and sisters, to the real brothers and sisters that we encounter. We can no longer divide prayer, the encounter with God in the Sacraments, from listening to the other, closeness to his life, especially to his wounds. Remember this: love is the measure of faith. How much do you love? Each one answer silently. How is your faith? My faith is as I love. And faith is the soul of love.

In the middle of the dense forest of rules and regulations — to the legalisms of past and present — Jesus makes an opening through which one can catch a glimpse of two faces: the face of the Father and the face of the brother. He does not give us two formulas or two precepts: there are no precepts nor formulas. He gives us two faces, actually only one real face, that of God reflected in many faces, because in the face of each brother, especially of the smallest, the most fragile, the defenseless and needy, there is God’s own image. And we must ask ourselves: when we meet one of these brothers, are we able to recognize the face of God in him? Are we able to do this?

In this way, Jesus offers to all the fundamental criteria on which to base one’s life. But, above all, He gave us the Holy Spirit, who allows us to love God and neighbour as He does, with a free and generous heart. With the intercession of Mary, our Mother, let us open ourselves to welcome this gift of love, to walk forever with this two-fold law, which really has only one facet: the law of love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 26 October 2014]

Conversion and Times

(Lk 13:1-9)

Conversion refers to a process that shakes the soul, due to an Encounter. A ‘meeting’ that opens to the knowledge of ourselves.

A dialogue that projects minds and actions onto reality and the Mystery, which ceaselessly refer to a new Exodus.

Even today, the swampy counterpart of the life of Faith wedges itself like a constant woodworm, and is symbolized by an arid confrontation, expressed in the absence of fruit on an unnecessarily leafy tree.

The ‘vineyard’ is an icon of the chosen people and the ‘fig tree’ of its central prosperity. Here evokes the Temple, in particular its liturgical nucleus: the Sanctuary.

The cult that took place in the sacred of ​​the vast area of ​​Mount Zion had to express the praise of a people who were constantly listening, called to a life of sharing and fraternity.

The delicious fruits that the Lord was waiting for should have been sweet and tender (like figs), but they were hard and inedible. The Call had been dropped on deaf ears.

The many and showy "leaves" of the most devout rite did not celebrate a life of welcome and understanding, rather tended to hide the bitter berries of a style in no way conforming to the divine plan.

We ask ourselves: how much time do we have available to amend and not regress, living fully the present?

Is the Father's governmental action punitive or only responsible and life-giving?

In the parable of the sterile fig tree we learn: the only condition that can change a history of infertility and squalor - as well as the danger of formalism - is the time still needed to assimilate the Word.

Forward process, linked to the unpredictable way in which the vital call of the Seed and the particular reaching out of its roots intertwine with the earth of the soul, then overflowing in relation to the events.

Appeal that never ceases, in the reverb of which is elaborated and strengthened the change of mentality that introduces into conviviality and into the plan of liberation for an alternative world: the Kingdom of God.

After the three years of the Son's public life, there is a ‘fourth year’ that extends to the history of the Church (vv. 7-9).

It does not want to conceal the luxuriance of life but to make it blossom, and without ceasing recalls a flourishing growth; for a feeling of Family with sweetest fruit, which is not satisfied with external practices.

As the encyclical Brothers All points out, the Lord still dreams of a «plan that would set great goals for the development of our entire human family» (n.16).

For this purpose «we need to think of ourselves more and more as a single family dwelling in a common home. Such care does not interest those economic powers that demand quick profits» (n.17).

The hasty logic - as well as the epidermal rush of the society of events - creates inequalities, not only in the commercial field.

In short, everything becomes an opportunity for the Eternal flowering and action ground, history that is truly ours: teaching of authentic theology and humanization - if the people story unfolds ‘on the way’.

The God of religion has his own claims and does not appear long-suffering. The Father of Jesus knows how to wait. He does not get angry, he does not give in to the frenzy of blow for blow. He is not disinterested, but not complain; nor take revenge.

He proposes solutions.

In doing so He will not cause irreparable trouble - indeed will astound us. For a new Spring, in which the fig tree gives its unrepeatable sugary, juicy and highly energetic Fruit - before the many leaves.

So that ‘fraternity’ does not «remain just another vague ideal» (n.109).

[Saturday 29th wk. in O.T.  October 24, 2026]

Conversion and Times

(Luke 13:1-9)

Conversion refers to a process that shakes the soul, because of an Encounter. A rediscovery that opens to self-knowledge.

A dialogue that projects mind and actions onto reality and Mystery, which incessantly refer back to a new Exodus.

Even today, the swampy counterpart to the life of Faith wedges in like a constant woodworm, and is symbolized by a barren confrontation, expressed in the absence of fruit above an unnecessarily leafy tree.

The vineyard is iconic of the Chosen People and the fig tree of its central prosperity. Here it evokes the Temple, particularly its liturgical core: the Sanctuary.

According to religious prejudices - of class, purity conditions, ministry, progressive skimming - within strictly demarcated perimeters homage was paid to the God of Israel.

The worship that took place in the sacred zone of the vast Mount Zion area was to express the praise of a people in constant listening, called to a life of sharing and fraternity.

The delicious fruits that the Lord awaited should have been sweet and tender (like figs); conversely, they turned out to be hard and inedible. His Appeal had been let fall on deaf ears.

The many and conspicuous "leaves" of the devout rite did not celebrate a life of acceptance and understanding, but tended precisely to hide the bitter berries of a style in nothing in accordance with the divine plan.

We ask ourselves: how much time do we have to amend and not regress, living fully in the present? Is the Father's governing action punitive or only responsible and life-giving?

In the parable of the barren fig tree we learn: the only condition that can change a history of infertility and squalor - as well as the danger of formalism - is the time still needed to assimilate the Word.

Forward process, linked to the unpredictable manner in which the vital Call of the Seed and the particular outreach of its roots intertwines with the soil of the soul, then overflows in relation to happenings.

Call that does not cease; in whose reverberation is elaborated and strengthened the change of mentality that ushers in the mutual hospitable of convivialities and the design of liberation for an alternative world: the Kingdom of God.

Now in the hands of a useless and corrupt caste that had allowed the vital relationship to be extinguished, the threads of the ignored design of Salvation and Justice (in the sense first and foremost of authentic God-man positions and just relationships) are reknotted by the intensity of Father-Son relationship.

After the three years of public life, there is a "fourth year" that extends to the history of the Church (vv.7-9).

It is not meant to conceal the luxuriance of life but to make it blossom, and without ceasing it calls forth a flourishing growth; for a feeling of Family with the sweetest fruit, which is not satisfied with outward practices.

In order to overcome conditionings, suspicions, blockages, failures, there is a need for breath: it involves treading a long path of exploration.

There are no shortcuts, no useful U-conversions according to the code of official authorities, perpetually committed to mitigating and homologating charismatic peaks.

Indeed, Jesus had invited the crowds to have independent thinking and judgment (Luke 12:57: "Now why do you not judge for yourselves also what is right?").

Woe betide to be subjugated, accepting omertà out of calculation or fear. Our dignity and the missionary wealth to which God calls are at stake.

This is why the authorities considered Jesus to be like a Galilean: subversive and rebellious.

He suffers another intimidation by proxies of religious leaders (Lk 13:1). We seem to be witnessing a scene of prevarication with which we may be familiar.

As the encyclical Brothers All points out, the Lord still dreams of a project "with great goals, for the development of all humanity (No. 16)."

For this purpose "we need to constitute ourselves into a 'we' that inhabits the Common House. Such care does not interest the economic powers that need quick revenues" (n.17).

The rushed logic - as well as the epidermic haste of the society of events - creates inequalities, not only in the mercantile field.

In short, everything becomes opportunity for flourishing and ground for action of the Eternal, history truly ours: magisterium of authentic theology and humanization-if the story of the people unfolds on the way.

In the processes that trigger a history of redemption according to Gospel logic, the memory of the past does not alienate but interpellates: it does not trivially provide inert indefectible criteria for judging the present and obtaining repercussions or predictive capacities for the future.

The creed of philosophical-religious idealism may be a cocoon in which to lull oneself, but from the attentive and propulsive Faith flows a life of love that is also unpredictable, capable of inexplicable recoveries: it demands personal judgment and new grit in situation.

Harmful to dust off and readjust old things or one-sided dreams.It is necessary to have open eyes and at the same time to give time, so that we overcome the fatalisms of archaic monotheism, the sentiments that confuse intimist emotionalism with passion for the things of God, the reductionist and schematic fundamentalisms, the illusions that we are already well on the path of conversion.

The God of ancient religion has its demands and does not appear longsuffering. The Father of Jesus knows how to wait. He tolerates both stubbornness and careless acceleration.

He does not get irritated, does not give in to the frenzy of blow after blow. He is not disinterested, however, he does not complain; nor does he retaliate.

It proposes solutions.

She reiterates occasions that would melt the hard temper of our idols -- for an evolution toward a renewed masterpiece of heavenly Patience.

It has the style of the mother or at any rate of the parent - close relative - who by dint of caresses and kisses persuades the wayward child to be fed the food that will make him grow (calmly) and thus surpass himself.

In this way he does not cause irreparable trouble - in fact he will astound us.

For a new Spring, in which the fig gives its unrepeatable sugary fruit [never already dry or dried] juicy and highly energetic-before the many leaves.

So that fraternity does not remain "at best a romantic expression" (FT, 109).

To internalize and live the message:

How do you safeguard community living and your transpositions of Faith in Christ? What is the point of homologation in satisfactions, and where do you place your Preciousness?

""Repent', says the Lord, "for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand'", we proclaimed before the Gospel […] that presents us with the fundamental theme of this "strong season" of the liturgical year: the invitation to change our lives and to do works worthy of penance.
Jesus, as we heard, recalls two items of news: a brutal repression in the Temple by the Roman police (cf. Lk 13: 1) and the tragic death of 18 people, killed when the tower in Siloam collapsed (v. 4). People interpret these events as divine punishment for those victims' sins, and thinking they are upright, believe they are safe from such accidents and that they have nothing in their own lives that they should change. Jesus, however, denounces this attitude as an illusion: "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered thus? I tell you, no; but unless you repent you will all likewise perish" (vv. 2-3). And he invites us to reflect on these events for a greater commitment on the journey of conversion, for it is precisely the closure of ourselves to the Lord and the failure to take the path of our own conversion that lead to death, to the death of the soul. In Lent, each one of us is asked by God to mark a turning point in our life, thinking and living in accordance with the Gospel, correcting some aspect of our way of praying, acting or working and of our relations with others. Jesus makes this appeal to us, not with a severity that is an end in itself but precisely because he is concerned for our good, our happiness and our salvation. On our part, we must respond to him with a sincere inner effort, asking him to make us understand which particular ways we should change. 

The conclusion of the Gospel passage reverts to the prospect of mercy, showing the urgent need to return to God, to renew life in accordance with God. Referring to a custom of the time, Jesus presents the parable of a fig tree planted in the vineyard. However, this fig tree was barren, it produced no fruit (cf. Lk 13: 6-9). The dialogue that develops between the master and the vinedresser shows on the one hand the mercy of God who is patient and allows human beings, all of us, time in which to convert; and on the other, the need to start to change both our interior and exterior way of life straight away in order not to miss the opportunities that God's mercy affords us to overcome our spiritual laziness and respond to God's love with our own filial love. 

[Pope Benedict, homily parish St. John of the Cross, March 7, 2010]

3. I spoke of fructification, and I am also helped in this by the Gospel, when it proposes - a reading we recently encountered in the sacred liturgy - the simile of the barren fig tree, which is threatened with uprooting (Lk 13:6-9). Man must bear fruit in time, that is, during his earthly life, and not only for himself, but also for others, for the society of which he is an integral part. However, this operation of his in time, precisely because he is "contained" in time, must neither make him forget nor neglect his other essential dimension, of being that is oriented toward eternity: man, therefore, must bear fruit simultaneously for eternity as well.

And if we take this perspective away from man, he will remain a barren fig tree.

On the one hand, he must "fill with himself" time creatively, because the otherworldly dimension certainly does not dispense him from the duty to work responsibly and originally, participating effectively and in collaboration with all other men in the building up of society according to the concrete needs of the historical moment, in which he finds himself living. It is, this, the Christian sense of the "historicity" of man. On the other hand, this commitment of faith immerses the young person in a contemporaneity, which carries within itself, in a certain sense, a vision contrary to Christianity.

This anti-view has these characteristics, which I recall in a manner, albeit briefly.

Man today often lacks a sense of the transcendent, of supernatural realities, of something that surpasses him. Man cannot live without some thing that goes further, that surpasses him. Man lives himself if he is aware of this, if he must always go beyond himself, transcend himself. This transcendence is deeply inscribed in the human constitution of the person.

Behold, in the anti-view, as I have said, contemporary, the meaning of man's existence therefore comes to be "determined" within the framework of a materialistic conception in order to the various problems, such as those of justice, work, etc.: hence arise those multiform contrasts between social categories or between national entities, in which the various collective egoisms manifest themselves. It is necessary, on the other hand, to overcome such a closed and, in the end, alienating conception, contrasting it with that broader horizon that right reason and even more so the Christian faith already let us glimpse. There, in fact, problems find a fuller solution; there justice takes on completeness and implementation in all its aspects; there human relationships, excluding all forms of selfishness, come to correspond to the dignity of man, as a person on whom the face of God shines.

[Pope John Paul II, to the young people of Turin, April 13, 1980]

Unfortunately, every day the press reports bad news: homicides, accidents, catastrophes.... In today’s Gospel passage, Jesus refers to two tragic events which had caused a stir: a cruel suppression carried out by Roman soldiers in the temple, and the collapse of the tower of Siloam in Jerusalem, which resulted in 18 deaths (cf. Lk 13:1-5).

Jesus is aware of the superstitious mentality of his listeners and he knows that they misinterpreted that type of event. In fact, they thought that, if those people died in such a cruel way it was a sign that God was punishing them for some grave sin they had committed, as if to say “they deserved it”. Instead, the fact that they were saved from such a disgrace made them feel “good about themselves”. They “deserved it”; “I’m fine”.

Jesus clearly rejects this outlook, because God does not allow tragedies in order to punish sins, and he affirms that those poor victims were no worse than others. Instead, he invites his listeners to draw from these sad events a lesson that applies to everyone, because we are all sinners; in fact, he said to those who questioned him, “Unless you repent you will all likewise perish” (v. 3).

Today too, seeing certain misfortunes and sorrowful events, we can be tempted to “unload” the responsibility onto the victims, or even onto God himself. But the Gospel invites us to reflect: What idea do we have of God? Are we truly convinced that God is like that, or isn’t that just our projection, a god made to “our image and likeness”?

Jesus, on the contrary, invites us to change our heart, to make a radical about-face on the path of our lives, to abandon compromises with evil — and this is something we all do, compromises with evil, hypocrisy.... I think that nearly all of us has a little hypocrisy — in order to decidedly take up the path of the Gospel. But again there is the temptation to justify ourselves. What should we convert from? Aren’t we basically good people? — How many times have we thought this: “But after all I am a good man, I’m a good woman”... isn’t that true? “Am I not a believer and even quite a churchgoer?” And we believe that this way we are justified.

Unfortunately, each of us strongly resembles the tree that, over many years, has repeatedly shown that it’s infertile. But, fortunately for us, Jesus is like a farmer who, with limitless patience, still obtains a concession for the fruitless vine. “Let it alone this year” — he said to the owner — “we shall see if it bears fruit next year” (cf. v. 9).

A “year” of grace: the period of Christ’s ministry, the time of the Church before his glorious return, an interval of our life, marked by a certain number of Lenten seasons, which are offered to us as occasions of repentance and salvation, the duration of a Jubilee Year of Mercy. The invincible patience of Jesus! Have you thought about the patience of God? Have you ever thought as well of his limitless concern for sinners? How it should lead us to impatience with ourselves! It’s never too late to convert, never. God’s patience awaits us until the last moment.

Remember that little story from St Thérèse of the Child Jesus, when she prayed for that man who was condemned to death, a criminal, who did not want to receive the comfort of the Church. He rejected the priest, he didn’t want [forgiveness], he wanted to die like that. And she prayed in the convent, and when, at the moment of being executed, the man turned to the priest, took the Crucifix and kissed it. The patience of God! He does the same with us, with all of us. How many times, we don’t know — we’ll know in heaven — but how many times we are there, there ... [about to fall off the edge] and the Lord saves us. He saves us because he has great patience with us. And this is his mercy. It’s never too late to convert, but it’s urgent. Now is the time! Let us begin today.

May the Virgin Mary sustain us, so that we can open our hearts to the grace of God, to his mercy; and may she help us to never judge others, but rather to allow ourselves to be struck by daily misfortunes and to make a serious examination of our consciences and to repent.

[Pope Francis, Angelus February 28, 2016]

The room of Happiness, in the decisive horizon

(Lk 12:54-59)

«Now, why do not you judge also for yourselves what is right?» (v.57).

From nature and events we must know how to draw lessons - even for the horizon of Mystery.

In Christ we have the capacity for thought and everyone is made autonomous: from the externality of things we are brought back to the Origin of what happens.

Jesus' appeal on the Signs of Time was the inspirational text of Pope John for the convocation of the Second Vatican Council, so that the Church might question herself, paying greater attention to God’s Calls  in history and to the hopes of humanity.

Predictability did not change spiritual pace; in each, its foreseeability did not allow the soul to see far.

In fact, Love is never according to chained, normal expectations or convictions, without new astonishing satisfactions.

Mass ideas are distracted, harnessed, by conformist thoughts. The never tested convictions wither the gaze, place the character impulses on dead tracks.

They generate paths that revolve around and suspend the realization, the ability to perceive the possibilities of the inner world; as well as opportunities for communion.

It is the heart that sees the slightest possibilities. It grasps them on perennial questions, in a relationship of reciprocity with the meaning of present life.

And Jesus wants our plant to throw new leaves again. Because what we believe belongs to us, is already lost.

Then the invitation to Conversion - instead of stranding the soul and thought on models - makes attentive to the polyhedron of Friendship with ourselves, with our brothers and sisters even distant, and all things, now.

World of relationship that nothing considers irrelevant - and can make us enrich [if unlocked] with adventurous, fresh, lively discrepancies, which appear from free energies that do not want standard life; together.

Radical change is... not just thinking about fast consent, about immediate (even banal) interests that you do not really want - and we know does not work: it would not upset anything.

The Moment to discover the contents and not leave us be dazed, the present chance, the spirit of the pilgrim, the recognition of cultures... have a decisive character for the evolution of life in the Spirit.

It does not rest on the coded, enlisted protagonism, which already knows where it is going - and so it runs aground, adapts, loses sight of us, makes us interdicted. It reaps victims of illusions, of external friction; poisoning the road with muscular approaches and too much thoughts.

Compliments outside do not bring the I and the you back to the Roots, nor do they explode for the true future, the one to be lived intensely, which will make us vibrate.

Here is the «Present Moment»: the door to be opened to enter the room of happy energy, which remains magmatic - unceasing gift, ‘anointing’ and Vision that we do not know.

Astonishment that invites and leads far beyond the homologising, conformist, one-sided aspect - of din, cliché, tacticism, or other people's age to be reproduced.

To internalize and live the message:

How do you live the tension between the vision of the genius of time and the present moment?

What relationship do you see between God’s Promise and our hopes?

[Friday 29th wk. in O.T.  October 23, 2026]