Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

The passage of Luke's Gospel that is proclaimed on this Third Sunday of Lent relates Jesus' comments on two events of his time. The first: the uprising of some Galileans, which Pilate repressed with bloodshed. The second: the fall of the tower of Jerusalem, which claimed 18 victims. Two very distinct, tragic events: one caused by man, the other accidental. 

According to the mentality of the time, people were inclined to think that the disgrace which struck the victims was due to some grave fault of their own. Jesus instead says: "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans.... Or those eighteen upon whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them, do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who dwelt in Jerusalem?" (Lk 13: 2, 4). And in both cases he concludes: "I tell you, No: but unless you repent you will all likewise perish" (13: 3, 5). 

This, then, is the point to which Jesus wants to bring his listeners: the necessity for conversion. He does not propose it in legalistic terms, but rather in realistic ones, as the only adequate response to the events that place human certainties in crisis. 

In the face of certain disgraces, he warns, it does no good to blame the victims. Rather, true wisdom allows one to question the precariousness of existence and to acquire an attitude of responsibility: to do penance and to improve our lives. 

This is wisdom, this is the most effective response to evil on every level: interpersonal, social and international. 

Christ invites us to respond to evil, first of all, with a serious examination of conscience and the commitment to purify our lives. Otherwise, he says, we will perish, we will all perish in the same way. 

In effect, people and societies that live without ever questioning themselves have ruin as their only final destination. Conversion, on the other hand, while not preserving one from problems and misfortunes, allows one to face them in a different "way". 

First of all, it helps to prevent evil, disengaging some of its threats. And in any case, it allows one to overcome evil with good: if not always on a factual level, which sometimes is independent of our will, certainly on a spiritual level. 

In summary: conversion overcomes the root of evil, which is sin, even if it cannot always avoid its consequences. 

Let us pray to Mary Most Holy, who accompanies and sustains us on our Lenten journey, so that she may help every Christian to rediscover the greatness, I would say, the beauty, of conversion.

May she help us understand that doing penance and correcting one's conduct is not simply moralism, but the most effective way to change oneself and society for the better. 

An adage expresses it well: to light a candle is worth more than to curse the darkness.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 11 March 2007]

In the eschatological fulfillment mercy will be revealed as love, while in the temporal phase, in human history, which is at the same time the history of sin and death, love must be revealed above all as mercy and must also be actualized as mercy. Christ's messianic program, the program of mercy, becomes the program of His people, the program of the Church. At its very center there is always the cross, for it is in the cross that the revelation of merciful love attains its culmination. Until "the former things pass away," the cross will remain the point of reference for other words too of the Revelation of John: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him and he with me." In a special way, God also reveals His mercy when He invites man to have "mercy" on His only Son, the crucified one. 

Christ, precisely as the crucified one, is the Word that does not pass away, and He is the one who stands at the door and knocks at the heart of every man, without restricting his freedom, but instead seeking to draw from this very freedom love, which is not only an act of solidarity with the suffering Son of man, but also a kind of "mercy" shown by each one of us to the Son of the eternal Father. In the whole of this messianic program of Christ, in the whole revelation of mercy through the cross, could man's dignity be more highly respected and ennobled, for, in obtaining mercy, He is in a sense the one who at the same time "shows mercy"?

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia n.8]

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 28 February 2016]

(Lk 15:1-3.11-32)

 

Love is a Feast, not an exchange of favors. So we aren’t marked for life, because the Father knows that our paradoxical escapes are dictated by a need (or legitimate fixation): to breathe.

And we must be proud of ourselves.

Inside our “Home” there is no freedom, because older brothers are sometimes unbearable.

They impose performance, they understand everything, and check for any comma; they imagine that everyone should receive a salary according to merit, rhythm, ability, effort, overtime hours, and «Yessir».

Grim about everything, they whine only because they imagine that one has to ask permission from authority even to rejoice in life and make noise for free. Their “duty and obey” kills Tenderness.

The Father, on the other hand, prevents us from feeling degraded, so He does not want to listen to the list of transgressions that the "pure" doesn’t know but imagines and foolishly spells out, because he represses them inside and in secret cultivates [identifying them with pleasure!].

He does not want us to make the mistake that ruins the whole of life and not just a few stretches of the path: to feel like wage earners. Thus He educates to let good prevail over evil, without demeaning anyone.

Everywhere we find a master who exploits. And even if we only return Home out of calculation, God prevents us from getting down on our knees.

We recite the Lord's Prayer standing: with Him we are always valiant face to face, and He likes «symphonies and choirs».

 

Tao Tê Ching (x) says: «Preserve the One by abiding in the two souls: are you capable of not making them separate?».

Contradiction inhabits each of us and the merciful Father doesn’t call anyone to wear inner or outer straitjackets according to perfection.

He doesn’t intend to absorb the life even of our subtleties and nuances, nor to reduce the coexistence of faces.

He knows that the evolution of each is combined with a varied experiential language, capable at its time of combining ancient wealth, personal inclinations, even momentary ones, and unexpected novelties.

If we deny the soul’s universe and the multitude of its antinomies, idioms, and co-present characters - like the two sons both contradictory but ultimately complementary - we would never have all the prospects for a growth in life and for the evolution in expressive strength of the Faith.

In the Artwork of the Spirit, Richness’ Opportunities for all, and... no one humiliated.

Everyone now free. How wonderful, such a monstrance! A living Body of Christ that smells of Sharing!

This is the beautiful and royal awareness that smoothes out and makes the content of the Announcement credible (vv.1-2).

Henceforth, the distinction ‘believers and non-believers’ will be much deeper than between the pure and the impure: a whole different caliber - and the beginning of a life as saved people.

Christ also calls, welcomes and redeems the discombobulated son and the precise one (in us), i.e. the more rubricistic - or worn-out - side of our personality.

Even our unbearable or rightly hated character (the rigid one and the distracted one).

He will even make them flourish: they will become indispensable and winning aspects of the future testimony.

Tao Tê Ching [xlv] says: «Great straightness is like sinuosity, great skill is like ineptitude, great eloquence is like stammering».

 

 

To internalize and live the message:

 

When do I take myself hypocritical and close-hearted? When do I realize instead of being the protagonist of what the Father shares?

 

 

[Saturday 2nd wk. in Lent, March 22, 2025]

Lk 15:1-3.11-32 (Lk 15:1-32)

 

Value of imperfect uniqueness

 

A God in search of the lost and unequal, to expand our life

(Lk 15:1-10)

 

Why does Jesus speak of Joy in reference to the one sheep?

Says the Tao Tê Ching (x): "Preserve the One by dwelling in the two souls: are you able to keep them apart?"

Even in the spiritual journey, Jesus is careful not to propose a dictated or planned universalism, as if his were an ideal model, "for the purpose of homogenisation" (Brothers All No.100).

The type of Communion that the Lord proposes to us does not aim at "a one-dimensional uniformity that seeks to eliminate all differences and traditions in a superficial search for unity".

Because "the future is not 'monochromatic' but if we have the courage, it is possible to look at it in the variety and diversity of the contributions that each one can make. How much our human family needs to learn to live together in harmony and peace without us all being equal!" (from an Address to Young People in Tokyo, November 2019).

 

Although the piety and hope of the representatives of official religiosity was founded on a structure of human, ethnic, cultural securities and a vision of the Mystery consolidated by a great tradition, Jesus crumbles all predictability.

In the Son, God is revealed no longer as exclusive property, but as the Power of Love that forgives the marginalised and lost: saving and creating, liberating. And through the disciples, he unfolds his Face that recovers, breaks down the usual barriers, calls out to miserable multitudes.

It seems an impossible utopia to realise in concrete terms (today of the health and global crisis), but it is the sense of the handover to the Church, called to become an incessant prod of the Infinite and ferment of an alternative world, for integral human development:

"Let us dream as one humanity, as wayfarers made of the same human flesh, as children of this same earth that is home to us all, each with the richness of his faith or convictions, each with his own voice, all brothers!" (FT no.8).

 

Through an absurd question (phrased rhetorically) Jesus wants to awaken the conscience of the 'righteous': there is a counterpart of us that supposes of itself, very dangerous, because it leads to exclusion, to abandonment.

Instead, inexhaustible Love seeks. And it finds the imperfect and restless.

The swamp of stagnant energy that is generated by accentuating boundaries does not make anyone grow: it locks in the usual positions and leaves everyone to make do or lose themselves. Out of self-interested disinterest - that impoverishes everyone.

This made the creative virtues fall into despair.

And it plunged those who were outside the circle of the elect - anterior ones who had nothing superior. In fact, Luke portrays them as utterly incapable of beaming with human joy at the progress of others.

Calculating, acting and conforming - the leaders (fundamentalist or sophisticated) are ignorant of reality, and use religion as a weapon.

Instead, God is at the antipodes of the fake sterilised - or disembodied thinking - and looking for the one who wanders shakily, easily becomes disoriented, loses his way.

Sinful yet true, therefore more disposed to genuine Love. That is why the Father is searching for the insufficient.

The person who is so limpid and spontaneous - even if weak - hides his best part and vocational richness precisely behind his apparently detestable sides. Perhaps that he himself does not appreciate.

This is the principle of Redemption that astonishes and makes interesting our often distracted paths, conducted by trial and error - in Faith, however, generating self-esteem, credit, fullness and joy.

 

The commitment of the purifier and the impetus of the reformer are 'trades' that seemingly oppose each other, but are easy... and typical of those who think that the things to be challenged and changed are always outside themselves.

For example, in mechanisms, in general rules, in the legal framework, in worldviews, in formal (or histrionic) aspects instead of the craft of the concrete particular good; and so on.

They seem to be excuses not to look inside oneself and get involved, not to meet one's deepest states in all aspects and not only in the guidelines. And to recover or cheer up individuals who are concretely lost, sad, in all dark and difficult sides.

But God is at the antipodes of sterilised mannerists or fake idealists, and in search of the insufficient: he who wanders and loses his way. Sinful yet true, therefore more disposed to genuine Love.

The transparent and spontaneous person - even if weak - hides his best part and vocational richness precisely behind the apparently detestable aspects (perhaps which he himself does not appreciate).

Let us then ask for a solution to the mysterious, unpredictable interpersonal energies that come into play; from within things. 

Without interfering with or opposing ideas of the past or future that we do not see. Rather by possessing its soul, its spontaneous drug.

This is the principle of Salvation that astounds and makes interesting our paths [often distracted, led by trial and error] - ultimately generating self-esteem, credit and joy.

 

The idea that the Most High is a notary or prince of a forum, and makes a clear distinction between righteous and transgressors, is caricature.

After all, a life of the saved is not one's own making, nor is it exclusive possession or private ownership - which turns into duplicity.

It is not the squeamish attitude, nor the cerebral attitude, that unites one to Him. The Father does not blandish suppliant friendships, nor does He have outside interests.

He rejoices with everyone, and it is need that draws Him to us. So let us not be afraid to let Him find us and bring us back (v.5)... to His house, which is our house.

If there is a loss, there will be a finding, and this is no loss to anyone - except to the envious enemies of freedom (v.2).

For the LORD is not pleased with marginalisation, nor does he intend to extinguish the smoking lamp.

Jesus does not come to point the finger at the bad times, but to make up for them, by leveraging intimate involvement. Invincible force of faithfulness.

This is the style of a Church with a Sacred Heart, lovable, elevated and blessed.

[What attracts one to participate and express oneself is to feel understood, restored to full dignity - not condemned].

Carlo Carretto said: 'It is by feeling loved, not criticised, that man begins his journey of transformation'.

 

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti emphasises again:

Jesus - our Engine and Motive - "had an open heart, which made the dramas of others its own" (n.84).

And he adds as an example of our great Tradition:

"People can develop certain attitudes which they present as moral values: fortitude, sobriety, industriousness and other virtues. But in order to properly direct the acts [...] we must also consider to what extent they realise a dynamism of openness and union [...] Otherwise we will only have appearances'.

"St Bonaventure explained that the other virtues, without charity, strictly speaking do not fulfil the commandments as God intends them" (n.91).

 

In sects or one-sidedly inspired groups, human and spiritual riches are deposited in a secluded place, so they grow old and debased.

In the assemblies of the sons and daughters, on the other hand, they are shared: they grow and communicate; multiplying, they green up, for universal benefit.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

What attracts you to the Church? In comparisons with the top of the class, do you feel judged or adequate?

Do you experience the Love that saves, even if you remain uncertain?

 

 

Mutual pride, no discouragement

(Lk 15:11-32)

 

I had never understood what God's mercy had to do with my dignity: why should the pose of the sons [who sooner or later return] be the one depicted by Rembrandt - one standing, the other kneeling?

If the young man runs away because the atmosphere set up by the pretensions of the elder brothers is unbearable, should he also shave his head and stand in penance - hoping at best to be an object of compassion?

No, otherwise the master of the house would not have clothed his runaway son with cassock and ring, i.e. appointed him - foolishly - as the new head of administration of the house. As if everything were regular.

 

In the Year of the Father, I admired the chromatic artistry of the work now in the Hermitage, but the composition and sense of the figures did not sit well with me.

Worn feet, unserviceable footwear, I could even understand them. But not the stance of a bumbling man in search of an absurd and forced empathy.

The suit torn in several places, without a dignified belt - perhaps sold out of necessity - and replaced by a miserable scullion's lanyard, all right.

But the small sword hanging from his right hip seemed to me to illustrate that despite his disgrace and shaved slave head, the young man had not lost his cynical opportunism.

In my spiritual grammar at the time, however, the bald head already alluded to the idea of the unborn child.

In the seminary I realised that beyond events, we are unceasingly generated as fresh and clean creatures; never humiliated.

The emphasis of this Gospel in the penitential liturgies tinged with ambiguity for me: the protagonist is the yielding Father, not the lopsided actions of the son who runs away and comes back out of calculation (and will run away again).

Tapered, strong hands: only His are so complete.

In Liturgy classes I had also learnt the meaning of 'red': royalty capable of rewinding the lost; colour in unison with the tenderness of flesh and its living generosity.

And it is all carnal in its stooping down to stra-bacch [falling on the neck: thus the Greek text] the rediscovered and reborn. 

It is not a notary's gesture that finds, but one that shortens the distance and removes the dishonour of the rifts, unbridgeable by Perfection.

It justifies: it creates justice where there is no justice.

The opposite of the eldest son, upright and certain of his give and take; not solicitous to lift anyone up, let alone the weak.

He has a gaze that only sees the wretched on the outside, does not grasp the scene from within.

The elder brother remains rigid and indignant: no symphonies and choruses, but only realises his efficient service.

And he even whines, because in everything he imagines he has to ask permission, even to be able to party (v.29): the infantilism of the obedient... formalist and calibrated.

 

To the official icon of the Year of the Father I preferred the focus of Andrea Palma's painting at the Galleria Borghese - albeit less aesthetically creative and fascinating.

I understood further by delving into the text. And I became aware of the biblical meaning of a suppressed commandment [but a point of strength and distinction in the approach to God, a specificity of evangelical spirituality]: "Thou shalt not make thyself an image" (Ex 20:3-4ff; Deut 5:8ff).

The ancient precept supposes that representations detract from the Logos and the You-for-you, depersonalising the relationship with the Father: they perhaps deflect it and confuse it.

It is precisely the most attractive features, descriptive or decorative, that are sometimes able to dampen the disruptive force of the missionary Word, with its raw and biting tone, not at all intimist.

[In sacred art, especially Latin figurative art has pretensions that dwarf the impulse of the Text, not infrequently normalised according to 'cultural' and moral clichés].

 

The son does not return because he is intimately repentant, but out of opportunism and sheer hunger - and prepares a speech that might convince the parent. Indeed, it has moved many generations.

The Father prevents him from finishing the ready-made sentence (vv.18-19), precisely at the point where the son intended to express himself as a servant put to wages (vv.21-22). This is the whole game.

Thanks to his radical experience in the journey of faith, Andrea Palma, the lesser-rated but religious artist of the friars of St. Dominic, sensed what all traditional iconography - captured by clichés - had never grasped.

The Recall of the famous parable is not for the irritated, uninhibited and spendthrift young man, then repentant in pretense - but for the 'first-born' (vv.2-3) who still kidnap the Gratis.

The Father had shown respect for conscience and even yielded, but with a firm gesture he does not allow them to kneel.

He decisively prevents us from making the only mistake he really cares to avoid, because we would ruin not only the moral character of one section of existence, but the whole life of our neighbour as well - by becoming ridiculous, disassociated and hostile like the 'greater ones'.

In the sight of God we are equal, not beneath. He does not humiliate, he does not discredit, he does not demand that we bow down before Him or some guru who imposes external artifices.

It was good to know that - despite the sullen looks of the major gendarmes - I too would always fall on my feet.

Merciful Father and prodigal son: the Fierceness will be mutual.

 

 

No disheartened

 

Love is a Feast, not an exchange of favours.

So we are not marked for life, for He knows that our paradoxical escapes are dictated by a need (or legitimate fixation): to breathe.

And we must be proud of ourselves.

Inside the house there is no freedom, because the 'big brothers' are sometimes unbearable.

They impose performance, they understand everything, they control every comma; they imagine that everyone should be paid according to merit, pace, ability, effort, overtime hours, (manners and) sirs.

Arcane about everything, they whine only because they imagine that one must ask permission from authority even to rejoice in life and make noise for free.

Their 'must and obey' kills Tenderness.

The Father, on the other hand, prevents us from feeling degraded, so he does not want to hear the list of transgressions that the 'pure' one does not know but imagines and foolishly punctuates, because he represses them within and secretly cultivates them [identifying them with pleasure!]

He does not want us to make the mistake that ruins the whole of life and not just a few stretches of the path: to feel salaried.

In this way, he educates us to let good prevail over evil, without demeaning anyone.

 

Everywhere we find a master who exploits. And even if we only return home out of calculation, God prevents us from getting down on our knees.

We recite the Lord's Prayer standing: with Him we are always valiant face to face, and He likes "symphonies and choirs".

 

 

For an interiorisation of discernment

 

Although the Father is not understood by any of His intimates, He stands tall, remaining yielding without any demeanour. 

Not by being good and decent, but by being wise: the life of both sons would not be advanced by exasperating their fulcrums, denying forces, poles, sides of the soul, but by integrating these powers and taking them as a supplement. By recognising and coalescing them.

The famous parable is unsuccessful due to the fact that the certain conclusion of the plot does not and must not exist.

The two of them [who are each of us, at the same time, deep inside] will continue the usual indecent story of being in and out of the house.

All this in a brazen manner. But then they will know the many slopes of themselves - even in opposition.

 

This is perhaps the most relevant aspect: based on the different motions of the soul and happenings, everyone is called to his or her own (unpredictable) synthesis.

It can vary not only in situation, but also with respect to different ages, in the spirit.

Gradually the solution makes its way, but it does not emerge in the regularity of decent events - from alienated women and men.

Elder and younger son are co-present aspects in each.

It is a paradoxical condition, but one that makes it possible to be richer: e.g. not always neurotic, narrow-minded, stressful and busy like the eldest son; not only wild, epidermic and impulsive like the youngest.

Change and variegated calibre are resources that trigger both pauses and leaps forward, and the Father knows this.

God wants us complete: capable of imagining and thinking, but also solid.

Whereas a master father would place us where he needs us and it would be enough for him if we were servile servants of the boss.

Then we would be good and placed where he puts us for his needs.

Civil servants... without that ductile cooperation that opens up varied experience and a correlative added value - able to elaborate and to be.

Thus and in the Exodus of each character.

Evolving the polyhedron of the personality, and growing in freedom; towards an ever more convinced alliance and integration, and its fulfilment in Love.

 

In stagnating situations, the drive of unconditional understanding and friendship that makes the weak strong act as an unsurpassable therapy - an incentive to continue the journey.

In Journey, they are relationships that accept and welcome, accommodate and bless contrasts (in the case of the two, reliability and fantasy, for example).

By letting the conflicting slopes surface, all dispositions and talents... both better self-knowledge and external relationships, become territories of new expression.

Expansion of life, by innate plastic energies, which make the soul rich and confirm [or contest and denounce, in the case of conformism] personal inclinations.

Spiritual guides linked to customary and commonplace religiosity tend to make us deny contradictions. But this cuts the person back, saps his strength and impoverishes the even intimate situation, annihilating his normal drives.

And it inoculates the idea that God himself is a reductionist totem, not the Source, the exuberance of life and the platform of Being that we experience in particular essences.

Not infrequently, self-righteous religiosity reduces life in the Spirit to trifles, muddling us in puddles.

Conversely, communion with the Father enjoys perceiving the power of full Wholeness, which makes day and night meet.

 

The soul only feels fit if the magma of conflicting powers that it perceives and grasps are recognised, blessed.

The many nuances allow us to measure ourselves against different unities, and to be aware of opposing sides - from which intermediate sides will germinate.

Neglecting to welcome them is fruitless: we could not deal unconditionally with the facets of reality and the multitude of characters we carry within.

They are forces that come to our aid, recuperate, complement, according to events or personal sensitivity.

If we remain enclosed in an idol, in a chiselled idea, in a task, in a role, in manners, in even hyperactive and respectable, or faux-transgressive, mannerisms, to be recited, we would lose the opportunity and the capacity to recreate ourselves, the Church, the world.

Evangelisation itself must be able to take on unforeseen variations; so must missionary activity, which often goes hand in hand with an enterprising soul, full of discrepancies that open up the search for dialogue and the risk of empathy; going beyond the so-called 'charisma'.

 

Contradiction dwells in each of us and the merciful Father does not call anyone to put on inner or outer straitjackets.

He does not intend to absorb the life of our subtleties and nuances, nor does he intend to reduce the co-presence of faces.

He knows that each one's evolution is matched by a varied experiential language; capable in its own time of combining ancient richness, personal inclinations even momentary, and unexpected novelties. 

If we deny the manifold universe of the soul and the multitude of its antinomies, idioms and co-present characters - like the two sons who are both contradictory but ultimately complementary - we would never have all the prospects for a growth of the life-wave and for evolution in the expressive power of Faith.

 

Says the Tao Tê Ching (xix): 'There is more to be observed: show yourself simple and keep yourself raw'.

In the Work of the Spirit, Occasions of Wealth for all, and... no one disheartened.

All now free. How wonderful, such a monstrance! A living Body of Christ that smells of Sharing!

This is the beautiful and regal awareness that levelled and made credible every content of the Proclamation (vv.1-2).

Henceforth, the distinction between believers or non-believers will be much deeper than between pure and impure, performers or not.

A whole other carat - and principle of a saved existence.

 

Christ also calls, welcomes and redeems the unhinged son and the precise one (in us) that is the more rubricistic - or worn-out - side of our personality.

Even our unbearable or rightly hated character (the rigid one and the distracted one).

It will even make them flourish: they will become indispensable and winning aspects of future testimony.

Says the Tao Tê Ching [XLV]: 'Great uprightness is like sinuosity, great skill is like ineptitude, great eloquence is like stammering'.

 

Merciful Father and prodigal son: the Fierceness will be mutual.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

When do I find myself hypocritical and narrow-hearted? When do I realise instead that I am the protagonist of what the Father shares?

The Parable of the Prodigal Son is one of the best-loved passages of Sacred Scripture. Its profound description of God's mercy and the important human desire for conversion and reconciliation, as well as the mending of a broken relationship, speak to men and women of every epoch. Man is frequently tempted to exercise his freedom by distancing himself from God. The experience of the Prodigal Son enables us to note, both in history and in our own lives, that when freedom is sought outside God the result is negative: a loss of personal dignity, moral confusion and social disintegration. The Father's passionate love for humanity, however, triumphs over human pride. Freely given, it is a love that forgives and leads people to enter ever more deeply into the communion of the Church of Christ. He truly offers to all peoples unity in God, and, just as this is perfectly demonstrated by Christ on the Cross, reconciles justice and love (cf. Deus Caritas Est, n. 10).

And what of the elder brother? Is he not, in a certain sense, all men and women as well; perhaps particularly those who sadly distance themselves from the Church? His rationalization of his attitude and actions evokes a certain sympathy, yet in the final analysis illustrates his inability to understand unconditional love. Unable to think beyond the limits of natural justice, he remains trapped within envy and pride, detached from God, isolated from others and ill at ease with himself.

Dear Brothers, as you reflect upon the three characters in this parable - the Father in his abundant mercy, the younger son in his joy at being forgiven, and the elder brother in his tragic isolation - be confirmed in your desire to address the loss of a sense of sin, to which you have referred in your reports. This pastoral priority reflects an eager hope that the faithful will experience God’s boundless love as a call to deepen their ecclesial unity and overcome the division and fragmentation that so often wound today’s families and communities. From this perspective, the Bishop’s responsibility to indicate the destructive presence of sin is readily understood as a service of hope: it strengthens believers to avoid evil and to embrace the perfection of love and the plenitude of Christian life.

[Pope Benedict, Address to the Bishops of Canada 9 October 2006]

"I believe in the remission of sins"

1. Continuing our reflection on the meaning of conversion, today we will also try to understand the meaning of the forgiveness of sins offered to us by Christ through the sacramental mediation of the Church.

First of all, we want to consider the biblical message about God's forgiveness:  a message that is amply developed in the Old Testament and reaches its fullness in the New. The Church has inserted this article of her faith into the Creed itself, where in fact she professes the forgiveness of sins:  Credo in remissionem peccatorum.

2. The Old Testament speaks to us in various ways about the forgiveness of sins. In this regard we find a variety of terms:  sin is "forgiven", "blotted out" (Ex 32: 32), "purged" (Is 6: 7), "cast behind your back" (Is 38: 17). For example, Psalm 103 says, "who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases" (v. 3). "He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor requite us according to our iniquities.... As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear him" (vv. 10, 13).
God's mercy is revealed in Jesus' words and deeds

God's willingness to forgive does not lessen man's responsibility and his need to be converted. However, as the prophet Ezekiel stresses, if the wicked man turns away from his wrongful behaviour his sins will not be remembered and he will live (cf. Ez 18, especially vv. 19-22).

3. In the New Testament, God's forgiveness is revealed through Jesus' words and deeds. In pardoning sins, Jesus shows the face of God the merciful Father. By opposing certain religious tendencies marked by hypocritical severity towards sinners, he shows on various occasions how great and profound is the Father's mercy towards all his children (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 1443).

The high point of this revelation can be considered the sublime parable which is usually called "the prodigal son", but which should be called "the merciful father" (Lk 15: 11-32). Here God's attitude is presented in terms that are truly overwhelming in comparison with human criteria and expectations. The father's conduct in the parable can be understood in all its originality, if we keep in mind that in the social context of Jesus' time it was normal for sons to work in their father's house, like the two sons of the vineyard owner, of whom he speaks in another parable (cf. Mt 21: 28-31). This system continued until the father's death, and only then did the sons divide the property they had inherited. In our case, instead, the father agrees to give the younger son his share of the inheritance and divides his possessions between him and his elder son (cf. Lk 15: 12).

4. The younger son's decision to be emancipated, squandering the goods he had received from his father and living a dissolute life (cf. ibid., 15: 13), is a shameless rejection of family communion. 

Leaving the father's house clearly expresses the meaning of sin as an act of ungrateful rebellion with its humanly painful consequences. Human reasonableness, in some way expressed in the elder brother's protest, would have recommended an appropriately severe punishment for the younger son's decision before he could fully rejoin the family.

But the father, catching sight of him while still a long way off, runs to meet him full of compassion (or better, "inwardly moved with pity", as the Greek text literally says:  Lk 15: 20), embraces him lovingly and wants everyone to celebrate with him.

The father's mercy is even more apparent when he tenderly reprimands the elder brother for demanding his own rights (cf. ibid., 15: 29f.), and invites him to the communal banquet of joy. Mere legalism is surpassed by the father's generous and gratuitous love, which exceeds human justice and calls both brothers to be seated again at the father's table.

Forgiveness consists not only in taking back under the paternal roof the son who has left, but also in welcoming him with the joy of restored communion, bringing him from death to life. This is why "it was fitting to make merry and be glad" (ibid., 15: 32).

The merciful Father who embraces the prodigal son is the definitive icon of God revealed by Christ. First and foremost he is Father. It is God the Father who extends his arms in blessing and forgiveness, always waiting, never forcing any of his children. His hands support, clasp, give strength and, at the same time, comfort, console and caress. They are the hands of both a father and a mother.

The merciful father in the parable possesses and transcends all the traits of fatherhood and motherhood. In throwing himself on his son's neck, he resembles a mother who caresses her son and surrounds him with her warmth. In the light of this revelation of the face and heart of God the Father, we can understand Jesus' saying, so disconcerting to human logic:  "There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance" (ibid., 15: 7). And:  "There is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (ibid., 15: 10).

5. The mystery of "home-coming" wonderfully expresses the encounter between the Father and humanity, between mercy and misery, in a circle of love that touches not only the son who was lost, but is extended to all.

The invitation to the banquet which the father extends to the elder son implies the heavenly Father's exhortation to all the members of the human family to be merciful as well.

The experience of God's fatherhood implies the acceptance of "brotherhood", precisely because God is the Father of all, even of our erring brother.

In recounting this parable, Jesus does not only speak of the Father but also lets us glimpse his own sentiments. To the Pharisees and the scribes who accused him of receiving sinners and eating with them (cf. ibid., 15: 2), he shows his preference for the sinners and tax collectors who were approaching him with trust (cf. ibid., 15: 1), and thus reveals that he has been sent to manifest the Father's mercy. This is the mercy that shines brightly especially on Golgotha, in the sacrifice offered by Christ for the forgiveness of sins (cf. Mt 26: 28).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 8 September 1999]

The Gospel [...] recounts the so-called Parable of the Prodigal Son (cf. Lk 15:11-32). It leads us to the heart of God,  who always forgives compassionately and tenderly. Always, God always forgives. We are the ones who tire of asking for forgiveness, but he always forgives. It [the parable] tells us that God is a Father who not only welcomes us back, but rejoices and throws a feast for his son who has returned home after  squandering all his possessions. We are that son, and it is moving to think about how much the Father always loves us and waits for us.

But there is also the elder son in the same parable who manifested his resentment in front of this Father. It can put us into crisis as well. In fact, this elder son is also within us and we are tempted to take his side, at least in part: he had always done his duty, he had not left home, and so he becomes indignant on seeing the Father embracing his [other] son again after having behaved so badly. He protests and says: “I have served you for so many years and never disobeyed your command”. Instead, for “this son of yours”, you go so far as to celebrate! (cf. vv. 29-30) “I don’t understand you!” This is the indignation of the elder son.

These words illustrate the elder son’s problem. He bases his relationship with his Father solely on pure observance of commands , on a sense of duty. This could also be our problem, the problem among ourselves and with God: losing sight that he is a Father, and living a distant religion, made of prohibitions and duties. And the consequence of this distance is rigidity towards our neighbour whom we no longer see as a brother or sister. In fact, in the parable, the elder son does not say my brother  to the Father. No, he says that son of yours , as if to say: he is not my brother. In the end, he risks remaining outside of the house. In fact, the text says: “he refused to go in” (v. 28), because the other one was there.

Seeing this, the Father goes out to plead with him: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (v. 31). He tries to make him understand that for him, every child is all of his life. Parents know this well and are very close to feeling like God does. Something a father says in a novel is very beautiful: “When I became a father, I understood God” (H. de Balzac, Le Père Goriot).  At this point in the parable, the Father opens his heart to his elder son and expresses two needs, which are not commands, but essentials for his heart: “It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive” (v. 32). Let us see if we too have in our hearts these two things the Father needs: to make merry and rejoice .

First of all, to make merry , that is, to demonstrate our closeness to those who repent or who are on the way, to those who are in crisis or who are far away. Why should we do this? Because this helps to overcome the fear and discouragement that can come from remembering one’s sins. Those who have made mistakes often feel reproached in their own hearts. Distance, indifference and harsh words do not help. Therefore, according to the Father, we have to offer them a warm welcome that encourages them to go ahead. “But father, he did so many things”: a warm welcome. And we, do we do this? Do we look for those who are far away? Do we want to celebrate with them? How much good an open heart, true listening and a transparent smile can do; to celebrate, not to make them feel uncomfortable! The Father could have said: “Okay, son, come back home, come back to work, go to your room, establish yourself and your work! And this would have been a good way to forgive. But no! God does not know how to forgive without celebrating! And the Father celebrates because of the joy he has because his son has returned.

And then, like the Father, we have to rejoice . When someone whose heart is synchronized with God’s sees the repentance of a person, they rejoice, no matter how serious their mistakes may have been. They do not stay focused on errors, they do not point fingers at what they have done wrong, but rejoice over the good because another person’s good is mine as well! And we, do we know how to look at others like this?

I would like to recount a fictional story, but one that helps illustrate the heart of the father. There was a pop theatre production, three or four years ago, about the prodigal son, with the entire story. And at the end, when that son decides to return to his father, he talks about it with a friend and says: “I’m afraid my father will reject me, that he won’t forgive me”. And the friend advises him: “Send a letter to your father and tell him, ‘Father, I have repented, I want to come back home, but I’m not sure that you will be happy. If you want to welcome me, please put a white handkerchief in the window’”. And then he began his journey. And when he was near home, at the last bend in the road, he had the house in view. And what did he see? Not one handkerchief: it was full of white handkerchiefs, the windows, everywhere! The Father welcomes us like this, completely, joyfully. This is our Father!

Do we know how to rejoice for others? May the Virgin Mary teach us how to receive God’s mercy so that it might become the light by which we see our neighbours.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 27 March 2022]

(Mt 21:33-43.45-46)

 

Christ introduces everyone to an adventurous, uncomfortable journey, not without pitfalls that throw the situation upside down and destabilize - but it’s the Way for each of us to recognize himself.

Otherwise we would not get closer to the Source of perception, imagination, reality and creativity - virtues that are necessary for rebirth, even from global emergency.

Jesus uses the figure of the Vineyard to describe the work of God and the response of men - first and foremost spiritual leaders (v.23).

Religious leaders were like this: hostile to divine action; equipped to appear, nevertheless violent and sclerotic.

The directors to whom Jesus addresses, follow the entire metaphor step by step - and they seem to find themselves unguarded. They only remain speechless at the end.

Why does He ask them imperatively: «Listen you» [which is not a simple invitation]?

From the beginning speaks with a master tone. Why?

He’s Lord of those to whom he actually addresses: the Christ so much invoked by new caste of "pharisees" back in the communities, where top of the class already claimed to manage the Vineyard in their own way.

In no uncertain terms, the parable denounces the abuse of authority perpetrated in third generation assemblies, especially by their chiefs.

Church elders who were already annoyed at taking care of the little people, who on the other hand came to the threshold of the communities with the hope of being welcomed.

Conversely, it was precisely these «last» the new prophets called by God to awaken the immobility situation (of bosses) - comparable to the same swampy reality of other religions of time.

 

Everywhere and even today some potentates discriminate and manipulate consciences in order to protect their world - by eliminating Jesus Present, who recurs in the small, innocent and transparent ones.

Veterans accustomed to directing do not notice that they are decreeing their own condemnation (v. 41).

Of course, Christ doesn’t intend to ridicule anyone: He wanted to lead people to ‘tell the truth’ about themselves.

In Gospel the behavior of the titled people doesn’t change. On the contrary, feeling unmasked gets worse it, and only the hesitation of losing face in public can restrain them (vv.45-46).

But now they know who they are - so much so that they are ashamed to openly plot.

Categories that are considered closer to Paradise - those who produce inedible grapes - excluded from the testimony of the Kingdom innervated by tinies’ crowd.

There will inevitably be a new beginning, and the replacement of inept settlers (v.43).

It’s «good news»: the Eternal one achieves his purpose despite the repeated refusals of those who should serve Him, and instead use Him.

In short, for Jesus the great enemy of God is expediency.

 

Even amidst ungenerous brutality and accusations of being deluded dreamers, new and more faithful Heralds of the Spirit are ready for succession.

An unstoppable course, sprinkled by the stream of blood of the prophets (v.46).

Outcasts, shunned, expelled, and to be crushed - but not locked into mental patterns: capable of giving free rein to regenerative energies.

 

Consciousness of the world, divorced from compromise.

 

 

[Friday 2nd wk. in Lent, March 21, 2025]

(Mt 21:33-43.45)

 

This is a continuing metaphor, rather than a parable; hence the fruit of post-Easter reflection - let us see why.

Christ introduces everyone to an adventurous, uncomfortable path, not without pitfalls that throw things off and destabilise - but it is the Way for each of us to recognise ourselves.

We would not otherwise approach the Source of perception, imagination, reality and creativity - virtues that are necessary for rebirth, even from global emergency.

 

Jesus uses the image of the Vineyard to describe the work of God and the response of men - first and foremost of spiritual leaders (v.23).

Ancient religious leaders were like this: hostile to divine action; equipped to appear, yet violent and sclerotic.

The leaders Jesus addresses follow the whole metaphor step by step - they seem to find themselves unequipped - and are only left speechless at the end.

Why does he address them imperatively: 'Listen' [which is not a simple invitation]?

Right from the start he speaks in a masterly tone. Why?

He is Lord of those he actually addresses: the Christ so much invoked by the new caste of 'Pharisees' back in their assemblies, where the top of the class were already claiming to manage the Vineyard in their own way.

In no uncertain terms, the parable denounces the abuse of authority perpetrated in the third generation fraternities, especially by their leaders.

Church elders who were already annoyed to deal with the petty people who came to the threshold of the communities in the hope of being welcomed.

Conversely, it was precisely these 'last ones' who were the new prophets called by God to awaken the situation of immobility (of the veterans) - comparable to the same swampy reality of other religions at the time.

 

Thus, we proceed to a possible identification:

The hedge or wall surrounding the Vineyard is the proposal God has revealed to protect us from other senseless and self-destructive models of life [non-Faith paradigms].

The crusher means: nothing was missing [the Lord took great care of it], and also the waiting for the time of joy, of the juice of love.

In short: excellent conditions and abundant result; maximum production of intoxication - one would expect. But...

The winegrowers are the constituted authorities. They have been given the task of placing us in the best position and in the right conditions for our growth and blossoming.

Indeed, under ideal conditions each one can produce the fruit of love that the 'master of the field' expects.

The two groups of envoys are prophets sent by the Father before and after the Babylonian exile - in vain - to call for concrete adherence, fidelity to the Covenant.

All ended badly, because the reference point of the devout people and the irresponsible leaders remained identical: appropriation.

 

Here are the different groups in power at the time of Jesus:

Temple workers [priests] managed tithes, specific taxes, offerings.

The high priest was chosen from among the members of the families of the aristocracy that flaunted the most power and wealth.

The Sadducees were precisely the aristocratic elite; for themselves secular, very wealthy. They willingly involved themselves in the Temple's commerce as well, and in the landed estates.

Pharisees were the leaders of popular religiosity, who advocated total respect for the Law, especially the rules of purity. And also that of the various Traditions, even oral.

Their ethical authority was based on exemplarity and a sense of sacred [and moralistic] separation. Exemplarity felt and recognised in every village in Palestine.

The 'Elders' were chiefs of the people (local, village or town authorities); descendants of the chiefs of the ancient tribes.

Scribes [doctors of the law] were those who, after a lifetime of studying the Word of God, were elevated to the rank of official theologians of the Sanhedrin.

Although divided into two sects - one favouring the Sadducees, the other the Pharisees - their prestige even managed to obscure the letter of the Torah. Indeed, in the event of a disagreement between the Law and their interpretation, it was the latter that was esteemed superior.

 

Jesus, on the other hand, discredited the learned, who willingly distorted and sophistrated the meaning of the sacred Scriptures - always to their own advantage.

He was well aware that his denunciation would cost him his life, because he unmasked the whole system of gains, balances and positions.

Yet he never backed down an inch.

 

Everywhere and even today, certain potentates discriminate and manipulate consciences to protect their commissions and their own farcical world of public and private relations.

In spite of all the polite and mannerist firebrands, often taking out the Present Jesus in the small, innocent and transparent. 

Conversely, the supreme stewards of the House of God must adopt an attitude of service to the Vineyard; they must not draw up their own life plans, to which everyone - including the Father - must adapt.

It is for this reason that the Son demanded to dismantle that structure: even to supplant the Temple with His living Person.

A real mortal threat to the system, which by now could not even stand the interference of God Himself.

But if it was irreverent to substitute the life of the people for the stone sanctuary, it also seemed sacrilegious to consider the Torah regime transitory.

The Pentateuch was the core of the identity of the 'chosen people'. This idea was interpreted with a rigid sense of permanence - although its practice did not bring happiness, but dissatisfaction.

Yet the veterans accustomed to pyramid situations - and to leadership - did not even realise that they were thus decreing their own doom (v.41).

Of course, Christ does not intend to ridicule anyone: He wants to bring people to question themselves, and tell the truth about themselves.

 

In the Gospel, the behaviour of the titled of official devotion does not change; on the contrary, feeling unmasked, it gets worse.

Only the qualms of losing face in public can restrain them (vv.45-46).

But now they know who they are, so much so that they are ashamed to plot openly.

The categories 'at the centre', who consider themselves closest to Heaven and therefore holders of power (which they demand for themselves), are assiduously those who produce inedible grapes.

Circles excluded from bearing witness to the Kingdom.

The aged forces only know how to oppose. Life-long leaders - pretentious gourds - always love leadership, and (too) their own interest, not that of the petty crowd.

Sadly, the gospel passage is a fresco of the entire history of salvation, where disdain not infrequently prevails - and it is relevant today.

There will inevitably be a new beginning, and the replacement of the inept settlers (v.43).

It is "glad tidings": the Eternal One achieves his purpose despite the repeated refusals of those who should represent him, and instead use him. Having no fruit of love to return.

In short, it is our story. An enigma of redemption, capable of taking on even violence and rebellion.

 

For Jesus, there is no privileged ethnicity or civilisation - because God's great enemy is not sin in the sense of imperfection, but convenience.

Convenience coupled with disinterest and (self-interested) contempt: a problem that returns - closing the story.

And yet, when the days of fervour fade and the situation comes to a standstill because of those who see election as a privilege rather than a service, new and more faithful Heralds of the Spirit ceaselessly arrive. Ready for the succession of minds and hearts, even amidst ungenerous brutalities and accusations of being deluded dreamers.

An unstoppable course, sprinkled by the prophets' stream of blood (v.46).

Outcasts, shunned, expelled and to be crushed - but not locked into outdated mental patterns: capable of giving free rein to regenerating energies.

 

World-consciousness, detached from compromise.