2. The present-day mentality, more perhaps than that of people in the past, seems opposed to a God of mercy, and in fact tends to exclude from life and to remove from the human heart the very idea of mercy. The word and the concept of "mercy" seem to cause uneasiness in man, who, thanks to the enormous development of science and technology, never before known in history, has become the master of the earth and has subdued and dominated.

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

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

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

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

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

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

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

XX Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [17 August 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Here is the commentary on next Sunday's biblical texts.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (38:4-6, 8-10)

 The name Jeremiah gave rise to the term 'jeremiad'. But it would be a mistake to think that this prophet spent his time complaining and feeling sorry for himself. It is true, however, that he was often led to cry out for mercy under the weight of his trials. And God knows how many he experienced! So much so that the proverb 'No one is a prophet in his own country' applies particularly to him. At times, expressions of utter discouragement emerge from his pen (cf. Jer 15:10, 18; 20:14). Faced with the repeated failures of his mission and the evils of which he is a victim, Jeremiah asks himself disturbing questions, even going so far as to call God to account, whose conduct seems surprising, if not downright unjust: "You are righteous, Lord! But I want to argue with you. Why do the wicked prosper? Why are all the treacherous at ease?" (Jer 12:1-2). Reading the book of Jeremiah, we realise that he had good reasons to ask these questions and complain: chapter after chapter, the plots of his adversaries emerge, along with their deceit and threats, which are then cruelly carried out (cf. Jer 20:10; 18:18; 11:21; 12:6). In the passage proposed by the liturgy this Sunday, we are faced with one of his many misfortunes, a typical episode of his life in which all the arguments and wickedness of his adversaries appear: "Kill Jeremiah, for he is discouraging the warriors who are left in this city and discouraging the people by speaking to them like this, for this man is not seeking the welfare of the people, but their harm" (v. 4). They took him and threw him into the cistern of Prince Melchiah, where there was no water but mud, and he sank into the mud, so that the persecution he suffered could not be described more realistically. However, God did not abandon his prophet, but kept the promise he made on the day of his calling, to sustain him against all adversity, and it was truly a covenant between God and him (Jer 1:4-5, 17-19); in fact, on a day when he was particularly discouraged, God renewed his mission and his promise (Jer 15:21), and now the instrument of liberation will be a foreigner, an Ethiopian named Ebed-Melech. This is not the first time that the Bible presents us with foreigners who are more respectful of God and his prophets than the chosen people. This Ethiopian has the courage to intervene with the king, who grants permission to save Jeremiah. When Jesus later tells the parable of the Good Samaritan, he may have been thinking of this Ethiopian who saved the prophet, because there are many similarities between the Good Samaritan and the Ethiopian. In the rest of the story, verses not included in the liturgical text, many details emerge about the sensitivity of the pagan who saves the prophet, taking every precaution not to hurt him during the ascent (28:11-13). Why is no one a prophet in his own country? This is a recurring question: it probably happens because the proclamation of God's love for humanity requires us to love one another, and when we live together, it is easier to see the negative than the positive: 'No one is great in the eyes of his neighbour'. Job's complaints (in chapter 3) are similar to those of Jeremiah, and it is thought that the author of the Book of Job was inspired by the lamentations of Jeremiah, considered the quintessential example of the persecuted righteous man.

Responsorial Psalm (39/40:2,3,4,18)

"I waited patiently for the Lord, and he turned to me." The psalm speaks in the first person singular, but in reality it is the people of Israel who sing their gratitude because they have gone through terrible trials and God has delivered them. This psalm is therefore a psalm of thanksgiving, composed to be sung in the Temple at the time of the offering of a sacrifice of thanksgiving, animal sacrifices celebrated until the final destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. The whole people bursts with joy on their return from Babylonian exile, as after the crossing of the Red Sea. Exile was like a deadly fall into a bottomless pit, an abyss from which it seemed impossible to rise, and the psalm speaks of the 'terror of the abyss'. During that long period of trial, the people, supported by priests and prophets, maintained their hope and strength to call for help: 'You are my help and my deliverer: my God, do not delay! (v. 18) and God saved them: 'The Lord... has heard my cry' (v. 2). On their return, the people seem resurrected and give thanks: 'He has put a new song in my mouth... Many will see and fear and trust in the Lord... But I am poor and needy: the Lord cares for me" (vv. 4, 18). Before the exile, Israel lived in security, but the prophets had failed to awaken it from its indifference. During the exile, it meditated on the causes of the disaster, wondering if the cause was not its own superficiality. This psalm sounds like a warning for the future, or rather a resolution because, in order not to fall back into the same error, Israel must live faithfully according to the Covenant. In this spirit, the psalm develops a reflection on what truly pleases God: "You do not desire sacrifices or offerings... You have not asked for burnt offerings or sacrifices for sin. Then I said, 'Here I am, I come'. (vv. 7, 8, 9). To express the experience of returning to the promised land as a return to life, the psalmist uses the parable of a man thrown into a pit by his enemies, perhaps inspired by the experience of the prophet Jeremiah, whose misadventures are recounted in the first reading: thrown into a pit, he is freed by Ebed-Melek, a foreigner. Jeremiah knew that behind that man's surprising generosity was God himself: "He has brought me up out of a pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock and established my goings" (v. 3). Freed, he bursts with joy: "He has put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and trust in the Lord" (v. 4). Those who have been saved sing God's praise, and others, seeing that God saves, will want to turn to Him. The psalm does not stop there, because the final verse proclaims: "You are my help and my deliverer: my God, do not delay!" (v. 18). Since humanity has not yet reached the full fulfilment of God's plan, the psalmist suggests two attitudes of prayer: praise for the salvation that has already taken place, so that others may open themselves to the saving God; supplication for the salvation we still await, so that the Spirit may inspire us to take the necessary action. It is not we who save the world, as the psalm says: "He has put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and trust in the Lord" (v. 4). God will always find a small remnant to save. Amos says: "The God of hosts will have mercy on the remnant of Joseph" (5:15); Isaiah also repeats similar things, which are then elaborated on by Micah, Zephaniah and Zechariah, who announce that the "remnant" of Israel will not only be saved, but will become an instrument of salvation for all others. God will use them to save all humanity, as Micah says: "The remnant of Jacob will be, among many peoples, like dew from the Lord" (5:6).

Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (12:1-4)

The author of the Letter addresses words of encouragement to persecuted Christians. He devoted chapter 11 to presenting the great models of faith in the Old Testament, and last Sunday we spoke about Abraham and Sarah. Here, at the beginning of chapter 12, he states that all believers in the Old Testament are like a "cloud of witnesses" surrounding us: a cloud of protectors. The author is not content with recommending that Christians imitate the trust and constancy of the great figures of the past, but invites them to "keep their eyes fixed on Jesus," the ever-present witness, the one who said, "I am with you always, until the end of the age" (Mt 28:20), the origin of faith and its fulfilment. A more literal translation would be: Jesus is the 'pioneer of faith', and the Greek term used, ἀρχηγός archēgós, translated as 'pioneer', indicates leader, commander, pioneer, initiator, founder, the one who opens the way and leads forward, a perfect guide who can be trusted because he leads to full fulfilment. In fact, he himself underwent the test of perseverance, in which Christians are now also engaged. His test was much harder: coming as the Bridegroom, for the joy of a wedding feast, he had said of himself that one cannot make the guests fast while the bridegroom is with them (cf. Mk 2:19), but the Bridegroom was not recognised and, renouncing the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame of that punishment. St. Paul says it in another way when he writes to the Philippians: "Though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross" (Phil 2:6-8). Such a contrast is unimaginable: having come to save humanity from sin, Christ was dramatically rejected and killed because of the sins of men: "Consider carefully the one who has endured such hostility from sinners" (v. 3). Both the Letter to the Hebrews and the Letter to the Philippians emphasise that Jesus is our model and support not because of the quantity of his sufferings, but because of his "obedience" unto death, even death on a cross, as Paul writes, while in the Letter to the Hebrews we read that although he was a Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered (cf. 5:8). To obey – from the Latin ob-audire – literally means 'to place one's ear before the Word', which is the attitude of absolute trust. Jesus, in the most extreme situation, maintains total trust in the Father, who is always present and attentive to his beloved Son, sharing his suffering and anguish: 'He remains faithful, because he cannot deny himself' (2 Tim 2:13). This is followed by the triumph of God's love, and Christ sits at the right hand of God, reigning with him. This same triumph is promised to those who endure persecution like Christ. The author does not hesitate to use the word "struggle" to describe this courage: the Christians to whom he writes visibly risk their lives to remain faithful to Jesus, who had warned them: "You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death... But by your perseverance you will save your lives" (Lk 21:12-19). Throughout the world, some Christians are directly affected by this fate because they are experiencing open or hidden persecution. We, who at least for the moment do not know direct persecution, are asked to be witnesses by speaking courageously about God and defending his truth.

From the Gospel according to Luke (12:49-53)

Jesus compares his mission to a fire: "I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already burning!" From the fire of Pentecost, this proclamation spread like a flame: among the Jewish people it appeared as the destroyer of the entire religious edifice, in the pagan world it was considered a contagious madness. St Paul writes to the Corinthians: "We preach a crucified Messiah, a scandal to Jews and foolishness to pagans." (1 Cor 1:23). This fire leaves indelible traces: those who allow themselves to be burned by the Gospel and those who reject it become irreconcilable enemies, even if they are united by family ties, thus fulfilling what the prophet Micah described with desolation in his time of anguish: "The son insults his father, the daughter rebels against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; each person's enemies are their own family members." (Mi 7:6). When Jesus announces these divisions, it is not a mere premonition: he speaks from experience, as happened in Nazareth where, after an initial enthusiasm, his childhood friends and family turned against him because he had just said that his mission went beyond the borders of Israel (Lk 4:28-29). And this is not the only time that Jesus encounters misunderstanding, even opposition from his own people: St John writes that not even his brothers believed in him (cf. Jn 7:5). Moreover, Jesus does not hesitate to tell his disciples that one of the conditions for proclaiming the Kingdom of God is to accept possible painful separations. For if one wants to follow him but does not love him more than one's dearest ones and even more than one's own life, one will never become his disciple (cf. Lk 14:26). The fire he has kindled leads to radical choices. Israel was waiting for a Messiah who would bring peace to the world, as the prophecies of Isaiah (Isaiah 2:11) were well known, but Jesus instead announces divisions: "Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but division." Jesus' peace requires a radical conversion of the heart, but many will oppose this conversion with all their strength. His proclamation of peace will meet with the favour of some, but the opposition of many: having come among us to proclaim love and salvation, he suffered and died, as he himself had foretold: "The Son of Man must suffer greatly, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, be killed and rise on the third day." (Lk 9:22). And again: he will be handed over to the pagans, mocked, insulted, spat upon, scourged and killed, but he will rise on the third day (cf. Lk 18:32). His resurrection gives us courage: enlivened by his Spirit poured out upon us, we are not afraid to set the world on fire with the fire of his charity.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary  [15 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. For the Feast of the Assumption, I have prepared several texts because they are biblical passages that often recur in Marian feasts and therefore, I hope, may be useful for meetings, catechesis and meditation. I sincerely wish you all a holy and peaceful Feast of the Assumption of Mary.

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

The first sentence we read is the conclusion of chapter 11 of Revelation, which heralds the end of time and God's victory over all the forces of evil, as already mentioned in verse 15: "Then loud voices in heaven said: 'Now the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.'" To express this message of victory, as always in the Book of Revelation, St John uses numerous images: we have seen, in succession, the Ark of the Covenant and three characters: the woman, the dragon, and then the newborn child. The Ark of the Covenant recalls the famous ark, the golden wooden chest that accompanied the people during the Exodus on Mount Sinai and constantly reminded the people of Israel of their Covenant with God. In truth, the ark had disappeared at the time of the exile to Babylon; it was said that Jeremiah had hidden it somewhere on Mount Nebo (2 Maccabees 2:8) and it was believed that it would reappear at the coming of the Messiah. John sees it reappear: 'The temple of God in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant appeared in the temple' (11:19). This is the sign that the end of time has come: God's eternal covenant with humanity is finally fulfilled once and for all. Then appears "a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth". Who does this woman represent? The Old Testament gives us the key, because the relationship between God and Israel is often described in nuptial terms, as in Hosea (2:21-22), while Isaiah develops the theme of marriage to the point of presenting the coming of the Messiah as a birth, since it is from Israel that the Messiah must be born (66:7-8). The woman described here represents the chosen people who give birth to the Messiah: a painful birth for the persecuted disciples of Christ, to whom John says: you are giving birth to a new humanity. The second character is the dragon, placed in front of the woman to devour her newborn son, which indicates the struggle of the forces of evil against God's plan. For the persecuted Christians to whom the Apocalypse is addressed, the word 'dragon' is not an exaggeration, and the striking description reveals the violence that afflicts them: the dragon is enormous, fiery red, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on its heads. The heads and horns represent intelligence and power, the diadems indicate imperial power that shows a real capacity to harm by dragging a third of the stars of the sky and casting them down to earth. However, only a third, so it is not a real victory, and the rest of the text will say that the power of evil is only temporary. And here is the infant: 'The woman gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all nations with an iron sceptre': this is clearly the Messiah and alludes to a phrase from Psalm 2: 'The Lord said to me, "You are my son, today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You will rule them with an iron sceptre' (Ps 2:7-9). 'The child was taken up to God and to the throne' symbolises the resurrection of Christ, whom Christians considered the Firstborn, now seated at the right hand of God. Christians live in a difficult world, but they are certain of God's protection: this is the meaning of the desert, which once again recalls the exodus, during which God never ceased to care for his people, and for this reason they can rest assured: if the dragon has failed in heaven, he cannot win on earth either. To the early Christians who were severely persecuted, the Apocalypse announces victory: "Now the salvation, the power and the kingdom of our God and the power of his Christ have come" (Rev 12:10).

Additional information  1. The liturgical reading does not include the end of Rev 11:19, but it is worth reading: the scene described (lightning, voices, thunder, earthquake) recalls the moment of the conclusion of the Covenant on Sinai. "Then there were flashes of lightning, voices, thunder, an earthquake and a heavy hailstorm" (Rev 11:19), to be compared with: "On the third day, in the morning, there were thunderclaps, flashes of lightning, a thick cloud on the mountain and a loud trumpet blast" (Ex 19:16). 

2. The Apocalypse is addressed to persecuted Christians to sustain them in their trials: its content, from beginning to end, is a message of victory; but everything is coded and must be deciphered. In fact, from the very first words, the author affirms that the dragon will not be able to hinder God's salvation. The prophecy of Balaam (Num 24:17) helps us to understand the iron sceptre of the Messiah. A later Christian reinterpretation applied the vision of the woman to the Virgin Mary, which is why the liturgy offers us this text on the feast of the Assumption of Mary, because she is the first to benefit from Christ's triumph. This struggle of the dragon against the woman recalls the account in Genesis: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, between your offspring and her offspring: he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel" (Gen 3:15). This text offers a beautiful definition of salvation: the power and kingship of our God (Rev 12:10).

*Responsorial Psalm (44/45:11-16)

Today we read only the second part of Psalm 44/45, which is addressed to the bride of the king of Jerusalem on her wedding day. The first part of the psalm speaks of the king himself, covered with praise for his virtues, who is promised a glorious kingdom and whom God himself has chosen. The second part, on the feast of the Assumption, addresses the young princess who is about to become the king's bride. On a first level, therefore, this psalm seems to describe a royal wedding: the king of Israel unites with a foreign princess to seal the alliance between two peoples, a frequent occurrence in Israel as elsewhere. Throughout human history, many political alliances have been sealed by marriages. But since the religion of Israel is an exclusive covenant with the one God, every young foreign woman who became queen in Jerusalem had to accept a special condition: she also had to marry the king's religion. Specifically, in this psalm, the princess who comes from Tyre — as we are told — and who is introduced to the court of the king of Israel, must renounce her idolatrous practices in order to be worthy of her new people and her husband: 'Listen, daughter, look, lend your ear: forget your people and your father's house'. This was a crucial issue at the time of King Solomon, who had married foreign women, and therefore pagans, and later, at the time of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel: we recall the great confrontation between the prophet Elijah and the numerous priests and prophets of Baal whom Jezebel had brought with her to the court of Samaria. But, for those who can read between the lines, this advice given to the princess of Tyre is actually addressed to Israel: the royal bridegroom described in the psalm is none other than God himself, and this "daughter of the king, all adorned for her husband" is the people of Israel admitted to intimacy with their God. Once again, we are struck by the boldness of the authors of the Old Testament in describing the relationship between God and his people, and, through them, with all humanity. The prophet Hosea was the first to compare Israel to a bride (Hos 2:16-18). After him, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, the second and third Isaiah developed the theme of the marriage between God and his people; and in their texts we find all the wedding vocabulary: affectionate names, the wedding dress, the wedding crown, fidelity (cf. Jer 2:2; Isa 62:5). Unfortunately, this bride, who was all too human, was often unfaithful, that is, idolatrous, and the prophets themselves defined the infidelities of the people as adultery, that is, as a return to idolatry. The language then becomes more precise: jealousy, adultery, prostitution, but also reconciliation and forgiveness, because God always remains faithful. Isaiah, for example, speaks of Israel's deviations as a disappointment in love in the famous song of the vineyard (Isaiah 5:1-7; 54:4-10). Idolatry occupies so much space in the prophets' discourses because the covenant between God and humanity, this plan of salvation, passes through Israel's faithfulness. Israel knows this: its election is not exclusive, but only by remaining faithful to the one God can it fulfil its vocation as witness to all nations. In Mary, the Bible dares to affirm that God has asked the whole of humanity to be his bride. By celebrating Mary's Assumption and her introduction into God's glory, we anticipate the entry of the whole of humanity, following in her footsteps, into intimacy with its God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor 15:20-27a)

Today's liturgy offers us Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection, in contrast to Adam's death. This gives us food for thought: what do Christ and Mary have in common? And what does Adam lack? The Gospel of the Visitation invites us to contemplate Mary as the one who believed and accepted God's plan without understanding everything. Her response to the Angel is a model for believers: "Let it be done to me according to your word (Lk 1:38), I am the handmaid of the Lord, ready to put my life at the service of God's work. In the Magnificat, Mary reveals her deepest concerns by re-reading her life in the light of God's great plan for his people, in favour of Abraham and his descendants forever, as he had promised to the fathers. From the beginning, in the Bible, it was understood that this is the only thing God asks of us: to be ready to say, 'Here I am'. Abraham, Moses, Samuel – called by God – knew how to respond in this way. And thanks to them, God's work was able to take a step forward each time. The New Testament offers Jesus Christ as an example who, in the story of the Temptations, responds to the seductions of the tempter with only words of faith. And if he teaches us to say, in the Our Father, 'Thy will be done', it is because this is his central thought, as he tells his disciples in the episode of the Samaritan woman: 'My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work' (Jn 4:34). In Gethsemane, he does not deny this: 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me! Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will!' (Mt 26:39). And the author of the Letter to the Hebrews sums up the whole life of Jesus as follows: 'When Christ came into the world, he said, "Here I am, I have come to do your will' (Heb 10:5-10). If Jesus submits to the will of the Father at all times and in all circumstances, it is because he trusts. We could also say of him: 'Blessed are those who have believed...'. His resurrection shows that the way of faith is truly the way of life, even if it passes through physical death. In his letters to the Romans and the Corinthians, Paul contrasts Christ's behaviour with that of Adam: Adam is the one to whom everything was offered – the tree of life, dominion over creation – but he did not believe in God's benevolence, refusing to submit to his commandments. The apostle does not want to tell us what would have happened if Adam had not sinned, but he wants to remind us that there is only one way that leads to life and brings us into the joy of God. Adam turns his back on the tree of life when he begins to doubt God, and Paul says this in the present tense because, for him, Adam is not a man of the past but a way of being human.  As the rabbis observe: Everyone is Adam to himself. We can then better understand Paul's statement that in Adam all die, that is, by behaving like Adam, we distance ourselves from God and separate ourselves from the true life that He wants to give us in abundance. On the contrary, choosing the path of trust, as Christ did, at any cost, is to enter into true life: "Eternal life is that they know you, the only true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3). To know, in biblical language, means to believe, to love, to trust. Paul asserts that in Christ all will return to life by grafting themselves onto him, that is, by adopting his way of life. Today's feast of the Assumption of Mary helps us to contemplate the fulfilment of God's plan for man when it is not hindered. Mary, fully human, did not act like Adam and expresses the destiny that every human being would have had if there had been no fall of our first parents. Like every human being, she experienced ageing and one day left this life, falling asleep in the Lord: this is the 'Dormition' of the Virgin. We can therefore affirm two simple truths: our body is not designed to last forever as it is on earth, and Mary, all pure and full of grace, fell asleep. However, Adam hindered God's plan, and the transformation of the body that we could have known, that is, the Dormition, became death with its accompanying suffering and fragility because death, which causes us so much suffering, entered the world because of sin. But where the power of death entered, God gives life: Jesus is killed by the hatred of men, but the Father raises him up, the first of the risen, who brings us into true life, where love reigns. Elizabeth says to Mary: "Blessed is she who believed..."; Jesus applies this beatitude to all who believe: "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice" (Lk 8:21).

NOTE When the Risen One appeared to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, the kingship of Christ was revealed to him as a certainty, and this certainty would permeate all his words and thoughts because, for him, Christ, the conqueror of death, was also the conqueror of all the forces of evil, the Messiah awaited for centuries. For this reason, in all his letters we recognise expressions of the messianic expectation of the time: "Everything will be accomplished when Christ hands over the Kingdom to God the Father, after destroying all the powers of evil"; or "He must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet", as we read in Psalm 110 (109).

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

After the accounts of the Annunciation to Zechariah concerning the birth of John the Baptist and to Mary concerning the birth of Jesus, there follows the episode of the "Visitation," which has the appearance of a family story, but we must not be deceived: in reality, Luke is writing a profoundly theological work. We must give full weight to the central phrase: 'Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud voice'. It is the Holy Spirit who speaks to announce, from the very beginning of the Gospel, what will be the great news of Luke's entire account: the one who has just been conceived is the Lord. Elizabeth proclaims: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb": God is acting in you and through you, acting in the Son you are carrying in your womb and through him. As always, the Holy Spirit allows us to discover, in our lives and in the lives of others — of all others — the traces of God's work. Luke is certainly aware that Elizabeth's words, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb," echo at least in part a phrase from the Old Testament found in the Book of Judith (Jdt 13:18-19): when Judith returns from the enemy camp, where she has beheaded the general Holofernes, she is welcomed into her camp by Ozias, who says to her: "You are blessed among all women, and blessed is the Lord God." Mary is thus compared to Judith. And the parallel between the two phrases suggests two things: the repetition of the expression blessed among all women suggests that Mary is the victorious woman who guarantees humanity's definitive victory over evil; as for the final part (for Judith: blessed is the Lord God, for Mary: blessed is the fruit of your womb), it announces that the fruit of Mary's womb is the Lord himself. Therefore, this account by Luke is not a simple anecdote, and we can compare the power of Elizabeth's words with Zachariah's silence.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth has the strength to speak; Zechariah remains silent because he had doubted the words of the angel announcing the birth of John the Baptist. John the Baptist also expresses his joy: Elizabeth says that he 'leaped for joy' as soon as he heard Mary's voice, and he too is filled with the Holy Spirit, as the angel had announced to Zechariah: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah, your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth... he will be filled with the Holy Spirit from his mother's womb." Elizabeth asks herself, "Why is this happening to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" Here too there is a reference to an episode in the Old Testament: the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant in Jerusalem (2 Sam 6:2-11). After establishing himself as king in Jerusalem and building a palace worthy of the king of Israel, David decides to bring the Ark of the Covenant to the new capital. But he is torn between fervour and fear. At first, there is a joyful stage: "David gathered all the elite of Israel, thirty thousand men. He set out with all the people... to bring up the ark of God, on which the Name, the Name of the Lord of hosts who sits on the cherubim, is invoked..." But an accident occurs: a man who touches the ark without authorisation dies instantly. Fear then takes hold of David, who exclaims: "How can the ark of the Lord come to me?" The journey is interrupted: David prefers to leave the ark in the house of a certain Obed-Edom, where it remains for three months, bringing blessings upon that house. David reassures himself: "It was told to King David, 'The Lord has blessed the house of Obed-Edom and everything he has, because of the ark of God,'" and he brings the ark up to Jerusalem with great joy, dancing with all his might before the Lord. It is clear that Luke wanted to include many details in the story of the Visitation that recall this bringing up of the ark: the two journeys, that of the ark and that of Mary, take place in the same region, the mountains of Judea; the ark enters the house of Obed-Edom and brings blessings (2 Sam 6:12), Mary enters the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth and brings blessings; the ark remains with Obed-Edom for three months, Mary remains with Elizabeth for three months; David dances before the ark and John the Baptist leaps for joy before Mary. All this is not accidental. Luke invites us to contemplate in Mary the new Ark of the Covenant. And the ark was the place of God's Presence. Mary mysteriously carries this Presence of God within her: from now on, God dwells in our humanity. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." All this, thanks to Mary's faith: at Elizabeth's words, Mary sings the Magnificat.

NOTE ON THE MAGNIFICAT. In this page of Luke, we find many references to other biblical texts, and fragments of many psalms can be recognised in almost every sentence. This means that Mary did not invent the words of her prayer: to express her amazement at God's action, she simply takes up expressions already used by her ancestors in the faith. There is already a double lesson here: a lesson in humility, first of all. Faced with an exceptional situation, Mary simply uses the words of her people's prayer. Then there is a lesson in community spirit, we might say in synodal ecclesial spirit. None of the biblical quotations contained in the Magnificat have an individualistic character, but all concern the entire people. This is one of the great characteristics of biblical prayer, and therefore of Christian prayer: the believer never forgets that he belongs to a people and that every vocation, far from separating him, places him at the service of that people. As for the biblical roots of the Magnificat, it can be said that it is a re-reading of the entire history of salvation: God has done wonders throughout the ages and continues to act in the present.  A. In the past: He has looked upon the humility of his servant; He has done great things for Mary; He has shown the power of his arm; He has scattered the proud; He has brought down the mighty from their thrones; He has lifted up the lowly; He has filled the hungry with good things; He has sent the rich away empty-handed; He has come to the aid of Israel, his servant. B. In the present: Mary can proclaim, "All generations will call me blessed," and this is still true today. The Lord shows mercy from generation to generation. God's mercy is an ever-present reality for those who fear him, that is, for those who open themselves to his greatness. The Magnificat therefore teaches us to contemplate God's work throughout history, in the life of the people and in our own lives. Finally, the Magnificat is at the heart of Luke's theology: God overturns the order of things: the powerful are brought low, the humble are lifted up; the rich are emptied, the poor are filled. This 'turning upside down' is already present in the prophets (especially in Isaiah and the First Book of Samuel), but Luke places it at the centre of his Gospel, which is full of parables and stories in which God gives preference to the least, the little ones, sinners and the poor. This prayer is therefore profoundly revolutionary: not in the sense of a violent revolution, but of a spiritual and social revolution that passes through mercy, justice, humility, and faith.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [10 August 2025]

*First reading from the Book of Wisdom (18:6-9)

The first verse immediately introduces us to the atmosphere: the author indulges in a meditation on the "night of the Paschal liberation," the night of Israel's exodus from Egypt, led by Moses. Year after year, Israel celebrates the Passover meal to relive the mystery of God's liberation on that memorable night (Ex 12:42). Celebrating in order to relive: the verb "to celebrate" does not simply mean to commemorate, but "to remember," that is, to allow God to act again, which implies allowing oneself to be profoundly transformed. Even today, when the father of the family, during the Passover meal, introduces his son to the meaning of the feast, he does not say to him: "The Lord acted on behalf of our fathers," but "The Lord acted on my behalf when I came out of Egypt" (Ex 13:8). And the rabbis' comments confirm: "In every generation, each person must consider himself as if he had come out of Egypt." The celebration of the Easter night encompasses all the dimensions of the Covenant, both the thanksgiving for the liberation accomplished by God and the commitment to fidelity to the commandments. Liberation, the gift of the Law and the Covenant are a single event, as God communicated to Moses, and through him to the people, at the foot of Mount Sinai (Ex 19:4-6). In the few lines of the Book of Wisdom, we are presented with two dimensions: first of all, thanksgiving: "The night (of liberation) was foretold to our fathers so that they might be courageous, knowing well to what oaths they had given their allegiance" (v. 6). Here we speak of oaths, which are God's promises to his people: a lineage, a land, a happy life in that land (Gen 15:13-14; 46:3-4). "For your people were waiting for the salvation of the righteous, for the ruin of their enemies. For as you punished our adversaries, so you glorified us by calling us to yourself” (v. 7). This is the lesson: by choosing oppression and violence, the Egyptians brought about their own ruin. The oppressed people, on the other hand, received God’s protection. The second dimension of the celebration of the Easter night is personal and communal commitment: “ The holy children of the righteous offered sacrifices in secret and agreed to share both success and danger, singing the sacred praises of their fathers” (v. 9). The author draws a parallel between the practice of worship “offering sacrifices in secret” and the commitment to fraternal solidarity “agreeing to share success and danger” . The Law of Israel has always united the celebration of God's gifts and solidarity among the members of the people of the Covenant. Jesus will also establish the same link: "remembering him" means, in a single gesture, celebrating the Eucharist and placing oneself at the service of one's brothers and sisters, as he himself did on Holy Thursday evening by washing the feet of his disciples.

*Responsorial Psalm (32/33, 1.12, 18-19, 20.22)

 "Rejoice, O righteous, in the Lord; praise is fitting for the upright." From the very first verse, we know that we are in the Temple of Jerusalem, in the context of a liturgy of thanksgiving. Please note: 'righteous' and 'upright' do not indicate attitudes of pride or self-satisfaction, but the humble attitude of those who enter into God's plan because in the Bible, righteousness (for us it would be holiness) is not a moral quality but a gift. "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he has chosen as his inheritance" (v. 12). The Covenant is God's plan, that is, the free choice by which he wanted to entrust his mystery to a people. It is therefore natural to give thanks for this gift. This is not arrogant pride, but legitimate pride, the awareness of the honour God has bestowed on them by choosing them for a mission, and it is our pride in being incorporated through baptism into his people on mission in the world. Trust comes from faith, and the following verse expresses this experience of faith in another way: The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love' (v. 18). This is a splendid definition of 'fear of God' in the biblical sense: not fear, but total trust. The juxtaposition of the two parts of the verse is interesting: 'those who fear him' and 'those who hope in his love'.  The fear of God is, in reality, trust in God's love, not servile fear, but a response of love, as Psalm 102/103 says: "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him." The only true way to respect God is to love him, as is clearly stated in Israel's profession of faith: "Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Deut 6:4). I return to the central verse: "The eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love." God watched over Israel like a father during its journey through the desert. Without divine intervention, the Jews, freed from Egypt, would not have survived either the crossing of the Sea or the trials of the desert. At the burning bush, the Lord promised Moses that he would accompany his people to freedom, and he kept his promise. When we read "the Lord," we are always referring to the famous tetragrammaton YHWH, which Jews do not pronounce out of respect and which means, "I am, I will be with you, every moment of your life." Ultimately, it refers to the breath of human beings.  The psalmist continues: "To deliver him from death and feed him in time of famine" (v. 19), which recalls the Book of Deuteronomy, where it is said that the Lord watched over his people "as the apple of his eye". The psalm continues: "The Lord is our help and our shield. May your love be upon us, Lord, as we put our hope in you" (vv. 20, 22). This trust is not always easy, and Israel has wavered between trust and rebellion, constantly attracted by idols. This psalm is ultimately a call to firm faith. The author is well aware of his people's uncertainties. That is why he invites them to rediscover the certainty of faith, the only thing capable of generating lasting happiness. He composed this psalm of twenty-two verses, like the letters of the Hebrew alphabet, to indicate that the Law is a treasure that guides life from A to Z.

*Second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (11:1-2, 8-19)

 'By faith': this expression recurs like a refrain in chapter 11 of the Letter to the Hebrews, and the author even goes so far as to say that he does not have enough time to list all the believers of the Old Testament whose faith enabled God's plan to be fulfilled. The text proposed to us this Sunday focuses only on Abraham and Sarah, models of true faith. It all began for them with God's first call (Genesis 12): 'Leave your country, your homeland and your father's house, and go to the land I will show you'. And Abraham obeyed, the text tells us, in the most beautiful sense of the word: to obey in the Bible means free submission of those who accept to trust because they know that when God commands, it is for their good and for their liberation, knowing that God wants only our good, our happiness. Abraham set out for a country he was to inherit: to believe means to live everything we possess as a gift from God. He set out without knowing where he was going: if we knew where we were going, there would be no need to believe. Believing is trusting without understanding and without knowing everything; accepting that the path is not the one we planned or desired because it is God who decides it. Thy will be done, not mine, said Jesus much later, who in turn became obedient, as St. Paul says, even to death on the cross (Phil 2). "By faith Sarah, though past the age of childbearing (90 years old), was able to become a mother." It is true that at first she laughed at such an incredible announcement, but then she accepted it as a promise and trusted, listening to the Lord's response to her laughter: "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" said God. "At the appointed time I will return to you, and Sarah will have a son" (Gen 18:14). And what was humanly impossible came to pass. Another woman, Mary, centuries later, heard the announcement of the birth of the promised son, and accepted it, believing that nothing is impossible for God (Lk 1). By faith, Abraham faced the incredible trial of offering Isaac as a sacrifice, but even there, although he did not understand, he knew that God's command was given out of love: it was the path of the promise, a dark but sure path. From a human point of view, the promise of a descendant and the request for the sacrifice of Isaac are in stark contradiction, but Abraham, the believer, precisely because he had received the promise of a descendant through Isaac, can go so far as to offer him in sacrifice because he believes that God cannot deny his promise. When Isaac asked, 'Father, I see the fire and the wood... but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?', Abraham replied with complete confidence, 'God will provide, my son'. The path of faith is dark, but it is sure. And he was not lying when he said to his servants along the way, 'Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there to worship, and then we will come back to you.' He did not know what lesson God wanted to teach him about the prohibition of human sacrifice, he did not know the outcome of the test, but he trusted. Centuries later, Jesus, the new Isaac, believed that he could rise from the dead, and he was heard, as the Letter to the Hebrews says. Here we have an extraordinary lesson in hope! It is faith that saves us, and the author of the Letter to the Hebrews comments that the plan of salvation is fulfilled thanks to those who believe and allow the promise to be fulfilled through them.

NOTE In Hebrew, the verb 'to believe' is aman (from which our 'amen' derives), a term that implies solidity, firmness; to believe means 'to hold fast', to have complete trust, even in doubt, discouragement or anguish.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (12:32-48)

 This text begins with a word of hope that should give us all the courage we need:

"Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the Kingdom." In other words: this Kingdom has certainly been given to you; believe it even if appearances seem to say otherwise.  But Jesus does not stop there: he immediately describes the demands that arise from this promise. For "to whom much is given, much will be required; to whom much is entrusted, much more will be asked." The only dominant thought in the heart of the believer is the fulfilment of God's promise, which frees us from all other concerns:

"Sell what you have and give it to the poor; make yourselves purses that do not grow old, a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Jesus explains what he expects of us with three short parables: the first is that of the servants waiting for their master's return; the second, shorter one, compares his return to the unexpected arrival of a thief; the third describes the arrival of the master and the judgment he pronounces on his servants. The key word is "service": God honours us by taking us into his service, by making us his collaborators. Later, Saint Peter, who understood Jesus' message well, would say to the Christians of Asia Minor: "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some believe, but he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to be lost, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). He even goes so far as to say: "You who are waiting, hasten the coming of the day of God" (2 Pet 3:12). It is our responsibility to "hasten" the coming of the Kingdom of God, as we say in the Our Father: "Thy Kingdom come!" It will come all the more quickly the more we believe and commit ourselves to it. Thus, all our efforts, even the most modest, in a mysterious way, are a collaboration in the coming of the Day of God: "Blessed is that servant whom the master, on his arrival, finds doing so. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions."  "Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he returns. Truly, I say to you, he will gird himself and have them sit at table, and he will come and serve them." On closer inspection, this happens every Sunday at Mass: the Lord invites us to his table and he himself nourishes us, renewing us with the energy we need to continue our service.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [3 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. In the midst of the holiday season, the Word of God challenges us to give true meaning to life.

*First Reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes (1:2; 2:21-23)

 When reading the book of Qohelet (Qohelet means 'one who calls' or 'the teacher who speaks before the assembly'), also known as Ecclesiastes, one might think that the author is a philosopher; instead, he is a preacher and one of the most fascinating and uncomfortable personalities of biblical wisdom. It is true that his book is classified among the 'wisdom books', but the biblical books known as wisdom books are not philosophical essays in the manner of the pagans or agnostics. They are first and foremost books written by believers for believers; in a sense, they are catechisms. 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity': these are the first words of the book of Qohelet, and perhaps also what best sums it up. 'Vanity' literally translated would be 'breath of breath', something evanescent, and who can boast of holding a breath between their fingers? Another similar expression, very dear to the author, is 'running after the wind' (1:14). In other words, everything to which we devote our thoughts, dreams, energies, activities and time is ephemeral, temporary, fleeting. Everything, except one thing. What is it? The author keeps the mystery alive and only at the end of the book does he reveal that the only important thing in the world is the search for God. In the end, we understand that this is not a disillusioned philosophical meditation, but a vigorous preaching in a veiled form. In the meantime, he describes in a thousand ways the many human activities as futile efforts, a chasing after the wind to grasp a breath between one's fingers. To better argue his point, he has King Solomon himself speak as a man of desires and power, crowned with glory, but a glory that had no future. In fact, several phases mark his life: before becoming king, we know nothing about him except his thirst for power; as king, he was initially admirable for his wisdom and humility, but in the end he fell into idolatry and became a slave to his love of wealth. Qohelet has Solomon speak as if he were taking stock of his reign: a reign of power and wealth (Jesus will say of him: 'Solomon in all his glory'). He had wisdom and sought the great works that fascinate the powerful and wise of the time; all the pleasures of life, and in the end, the failure of his kingdom. With Rehoboam, his son, incapable of wise politics, the kingdom was divided, and worse still, idolatry regained the upper hand and in a few years Solomon's glory vanished. What we read today refers to him: "He who has worked with wisdom and knowledge will leave it to another who has not worked for it" (2:21). Rehoboam, his son and successor to the throne of Jerusalem, seriously lacked wisdom, and from there arose the schism that divided David's kingdom forever. In light of this experience, Qohelet affirms: "All is vanity." We read the same thing in Psalm 103: 'Man: his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field: a breath of wind, and he is no more' (15-16).  In Qohelet there is a true language of faith: God alone knows all mysteries, and every search for happiness outside of Him is vain because only He possesses the keys to true wisdom. Ultimately, even if we do not understand all the mysteries of existence, we know that everything is a gift from God. Those who trust in God will never be disappointed, and wisdom consists in abandoning oneself to God and observing His commandments is the only way to happiness: "Whoever keeps the commandment will know no evil." (Qo 8:5).  In the end, true wisdom is the humility of living life as a gift from God: "Every man who eats, drinks and enjoys well-being in all his labour: it is a gift from God. (Qo 3:13). 

*Responsorial Psalm 89/90 (3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14-17)

The psalm takes us to the context of a ceremony of supplication for forgiveness at the Temple in Jerusalem after the Babylonian exile: the prayer "Return, Lord, how long? Have mercy on your servants" (v. 13) is typical of a penitential liturgy.  This psalm is therefore a prayer asking for conversion: 'Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a wise heart' (v. 12). Conversion consists in living according to God's wisdom in order to know the true measure of our days. It is no coincidence that this psalm is offered to us as an echo of the first reading, from the book of Qohelet, a meditation on true wisdom, while the psalm offers a splendid definition of wisdom as the true measure of our days, a healthy lucidity about our condition as human beings. Born without knowing why and destined to die without even being able to foresee when: this is our destiny, and this is the meaning of the first verses we have read: You turn man back to dust when you say, 'Return, O children of men!' (v.3), that is, return to the earth from which I have drawn you. This does not create sadness but serenity because our misery rests on the greatness and stability of God: 'A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, like a watch in the night' (v. 4). God gives us security because He wants only our good. However, trouble arises when we lose clarity about our misery, as chapters 2 and 3 of Genesis clearly illustrate, recounting the error of Adam, a symbolic character whose behaviour is considered a model of what not to do. "Adam did this or that" does not describe a hypothetical first man, but a type of behaviour, and in this light, this psalm is in harmony with the first reading, where Qohelet has Solomon, the wise king, speak at the beginning, but then seduced by luxury, power, and women who made him an idolater. In the second part of his reign, he behaved like Adam, who turned away from God's wisdom. This psalm invites us to rediscover the wisdom and humility of the young Solomon, because true wisdom is the awareness of man's smallness, which is never humiliating: a trusting, filial smallness. The conclusion is splendid: 'establish the work of our hands' (v. 17), which shows the cooperation between God and man: man works, God gives solidity and meaning to human work.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (3:1-5, 9-11)

Paul first makes a distinction between "things above" and "things on earth", two different ways of living: behaviours inspired by the Holy Spirit and those that are not. "Things above" are kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, mutual forgiveness, living according to the Spirit, and this is the behaviour of the baptised. "Things on earth" are debauchery, impurity, unbridled passion, greed, covetousness, behaviour not inspired by the Spirit. Paul establishes the link between baptism and the way of life: "if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above" (v. 1). He says "you have been raised," but then he says "you have died" (v. 2), and the words do not have the same meaning for him as they do for us. For Paul, from the resurrection of Christ onwards, nothing is as it was before. To be risen means precisely to be dead to the world and born to a life according to the Spirit, what he calls the realities above. The Christian is a "transformed person who lives in the manner of Christ," and Paul calls him "the new man." He does not despise "the things of the earth"; on the contrary, he will say shortly afterwards: "Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God through him" (3:17). It is not, therefore, a question of living a different life from the ordinary one, but of living it differently: not rejecting this world, but living it already as a seed of the Kingdom, where all men are brothers, as he explains in his letter to the Galatians (3:26-28) and repeats at the end of this Sunday's passage from the letter to the Colossians: "There is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free, but Christ is all and in all." The community of Colossae probably had the same problems as the Galatians and, in particular, the great question that agitated the early Christian communities, namely whether non-Jews who became Christians should take on Jewish practices: dietary rules, ritual ablutions, and above all circumcision. There were circumcised Christians and uncircumcised Christians, and some Jews insisted on circumcision. The answer to the Galatians and Colossians was the same: baptism makes everyone brothers and sisters, and all forms of exclusion are outdated; what matters is being a disciple of Christ. 

NOTE. Some exegetes believe that this letter attributed to Paul was not actually written by him; Paul, in fact, never visited Colossae: it was Epaphras, one of his disciples, who founded that community. According to a very common practice in the first century (called pseudepigraphy), it is hypothesised (but this is only a hypothesis) that a disciple very close to Paul's thinking addressed the Colossians under the authority of the apostle's name because the moment was serious. If this hypothesis is correct, it is not surprising to find in this writing phrases taken literally from Paul and others that show how theological reflection continued to develop in Christian communities. Jesus had said, 'The Spirit will guide you to the whole truth.' And in previous Sundays, we have already seen theological developments that are not yet found in Paul's own writings.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (12:13-21)

Jesus' response seems abrupt: "Who made me your judge or mediator?" However, as a good teacher, Jesus takes the opportunity to draw a lesson that he explains well with this parable. A man who has become rich through business is thinking about how best to enjoy his wealth; he thinks about demolishing his warehouses and building bigger ones to store all his grain and goods, and then he says to himself: 'My soul, you have many goods stored up for many years; rest, eat, drink and be merry' (v. 19). Unfortunately, he has forgotten that his life does not depend on him, and in fact he dies that very night. He thinks he is rich, but true wealth is not what he imagines. To better understand Jesus' teaching, we need to remember what he said earlier: "Be careful and keep away from all greed, because even if someone has an abundance, his life does not depend on what he has" (v. 13) and, even though it is not in this Sunday's liturgical reading, he concludes: "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing' (Lk 12:22-23). Jesus' teaching is not new; it takes up themes already familiar in the Old Testament. Ben Sira said that those who become rich do not know how long they have to live, then they will leave their possessions to others and die (cf. Sir 11:18-19); and in this Sunday's first reading, Qohelet offered similar reflections: "What profit does a man gain from all his toil and from the cares of his heart, with which he toils under the sun?" (Qo 2:22), returning several times to the same theme (cf. Qo 5:9...15). The prophet Isaiah is very incisive in accusing the people of Jerusalem of being dazed by pleasures instead of listening to God's call to conversion (cf. Is 22:13), and the book of Job repeats: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there" (Job 1:21), a phrase still recited today in Israel at every funeral. All these phrases sound like reminders of the reality of life. Jesus denounces senseless behaviour: "Fool! This very night your life will be demanded of you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?" (v. 20) and the parable ends: "So is the one who stores up treasure for himself and is not rich in God." This implies two things: Never forget that riches come from God and belong to him because he entrusts them to us to put them at the service of the Kingdom of God. Life is short, but precisely for this reason, let us hurry to put it to good use! Jesus responds sharply to the man asking for his inheritance: that man has his priorities wrong because the most precious inheritance is the faith we have received from our fathers. And every time Jesus responds sharply (to his mother at Cana (Jn 2:4) and to Peter in Caesarea (Mt 16:23), it is because his mission is at stake.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole