With his mercy Jesus also chooses apostles 'from the worst', from among sinners and the corrupt. But it is up to them to preserve "the memory of this mercy", remembering "from where one has been chosen", without getting head over heels or thinking of making a career as officials, pastoral planners and businessmen. It is the concrete testimony of Matthew's conversion that Pope Francis re-proposed while celebrating Mass at Santa Marta on Friday 21 September, on the feast day of the apostle and evangelist.

"In the Collect Prayer we prayed to the Lord and said that in his plan of mercy he chose Matthew, the publican, to constitute him an apostle," the Pontiff immediately recalled, who indicated as a key to reading "three words: plan of mercy, choose-choose, constitute".

"As he was leaving," Francis explained, referring precisely to the Gospel passage from Matthew (9:9-13), "Jesus saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, 'Follow me. And he got up and followed him. He was a publican, that is, a corrupt man, because for money he betrayed his country. A traitor to his people: the worst".

In fact, the Pope pointed out, some might object that 'Jesus has no common sense in choosing people': 'why did he choose out of so many others' this person 'from the worst, from nothing, from the most despised place'? Moreover, the Pontiff explained, in the same way the Lord "chose the Samaritan woman to go and announce that he was the messiah: a woman rejected by the people because she was not really a saint; and he chose many other sinners and made them apostles". And then, he added, 'in the life of the Church, so many Christians, so many saints who were chosen from the lowest'.

Francis recalled that 'this consciousness that we Christians should have - from where I was chosen, from where I was chosen to be a Christian - must remain throughout life, remain there and have the memory of our sins, the memory that the Lord had mercy on my sins and chose me to be a Christian, to be an apostle'.

So 'the Lord chooses'. The Collect prayer is clear: 'Lord, you chose the publican Matthew and made him an apostle': that is, he insisted, 'from the worst to the highest place'. In response to this call, the Pope noted, 'what did Matthew do? Did he dress up? Did he begin to say 'I am the prince of the apostles, with you', with the apostles? Am I in charge here? No! He worked all his life for the Gospel, how patiently he wrote the Gospel in Aramaic'. Matthew, the Pontiff explained, 'always had in mind where he was chosen from: from the lowest'.

The fact is, the Pope reiterated, that "when the apostle forgets his origins and begins to make a career, he distances himself from the Lord and becomes an official; who does a lot of good, perhaps, but is not an apostle". And so "he will be incapable of transmitting Jesus; he will be a fixer of pastoral plans, of many things; but in the end, a businessman, a businessman of the kingdom of God, because he has forgotten from where he was chosen".

For this reason, Francis said, it is important to have 'the memory, always, of our origins, of the place where the Lord has looked at me; that fascination of the Lord's gaze that called me to be a Christian, to be an apostle. This memory must accompany the life of the apostle and of every Christian".

"In fact, we are always used to looking at the sins of others: look at this, look at that, look at that other," the Pope continued. Instead, "Jesus told us: 'please do not look at the mote in other people's eyes; look at what you have in your heart'". But, the Pontiff insisted, "it is more fun to speak ill of others: it is a beautiful thing, it seems". So much so that "to speak ill of others" seems a bit "like honey candy, which is very good: you take one, it's good; you take two, it's good; three... you take half a kilo and your stomach hurts and you're sick".

Instead, Francis suggested, 'speak ill of yourself, accuse yourself, remembering your sins, remembering where the Lord has chosen you from. You were chosen, you were chosen. He took you by the hand and brought you here. When the Lord chose you, he did not do things by halves: he chose you for something great, always'.

'Being a Christian,' he said, 'is a great, beautiful thing. We are the ones who stray and want to stay in the middle, because that is very difficult; and to negotiate with the Lord' saying: 'Lord, no, only up to here'. But "the Lord is patient, the Lord can tolerate things: he is patient, he waits for us. But we lack generosity: he does not. He always takes you from the lowest to the highest. So he did with Matthew and he did with all of us and he will continue to do". 

Referring to the apostle, the Pontiff explained how he 'felt something strong, so strong, that he left the love of his life on the table: money'. Matthew "left the corruption of his heart to follow Jesus. Jesus' gaze, strong: "Follow me!". And he left", despite being "so attached" to money. "And surely - there was no telephone at that time - he must have sent someone to say to his friends, to those of the clique, of the group of publicans: 'come and have lunch with me, for I will make feast for the master'".

So, as the Gospel passage tells us, 'they were all at table, these: the worst of the worst in the society of that time. And Jesus with them. Jesus did not go to lunch with the righteous, with those who felt righteous, with the doctors of the law, at that time. Once, twice he also went with the latter, but at that moment he went with them, with that syndicate of publicans'.

And, Francis continued, 'the doctors of the law were scandalised. They called the disciples and said, 'how is it that your master does this, with these people? He becomes impure!": eating with an impure person infects you, you are no longer pure". Hearing this, it is Jesus himself who "says this third word: 'Go and learn what it means: 'mercy I want and not sacrifices'". For "God's mercy seeks all, forgives all. Only, he asks you to say: 'Yes, help me'. Only that".

"When the apostles went among sinners, think of Paul, in the community of Corinth, some were scandalised," the Pope explained. They would say, "But why do you go to those people who are pagans, they are sinful people, why do you go there?" Jesus' answer is clear: "Because it is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick: 'Mercy I want and not sacrifices'".

"Matthew chose! He always chooses Jesus," the Pontiff relaunched. The Lord chooses "through people, through situations or directly". Matthew is "constituted apostle: he who constitutes in the Church and gives the mission is Jesus. The Apostle Matthew and many others recalled their origins: sinners, corrupt. Why? Because of mercy. For the design of mercy".

Francis recognised that 'understanding the Lord's mercy is a mystery; but the greatest, most beautiful mystery is the heart of God. If you want to get right to the heart of God, take the path of mercy and allow yourself to be treated with mercy'. This is exactly the story of "Matthew, chosen from the money-changer's desk where taxes were paid. Chosen from below. Established in the highest place. Why? For mercy'. In this perspective, the Pope concluded, "we learn what 'mercy I want, and not sacrifice' means".

[Pope Francis, at St. Martha's, Osservatore Romano, 22.09.2018]

(Mt 9:14-15)

Fasting is a regenerative principle that has a unique healing power, both detoxifying and essential. It activates the energies of humanity and at the same time of diversity.

This silent practice addresses the deep layers, the internal dimension, which becomes the guide and we risk ignoring.

Fasting was a sign of profound religiosity, therefore the disciples of Jesus - who did not fast, on the contrary their life had a festive character - were more or less assimilated to sinners.

Although there were no formal prescriptions, in observant circles it was pious practices that had become customary [linked to precisely marked days].

In Semitic beliefs, fasting was in particular expressive of the embarrassment and affliction of the devout man in the expectation of the Messianic times, which were delaying.

This is why Jesus associates fasting with mourning. It no longer has meaning in life as the unhindered wedding feast that He inaugurates.

Fasting remains as a sign of waiting for fulfillment, but now sadness no longer has any decisive relevance.

In the time of the Church that makes the Risen present, the renunciation of gorging is not a form of penance but of Hope (v.15).

And it serves to keep the hearts of Bridegroom’s friends clear of vanities, with a form of identification with the poor.

In the communities of Galilee and Syria to which Mt addresses, the Judaizers tried to reduce the pure Faith - foundation and enthusiastic participation - to whatever beliefs and practices.

Provisions that did not make everyone feel free.

In fact, a large part of the Jews converted to Christ were inclined to nostalgia that resulted in impediment.

Mt encourages the converts of his fraternities, coming from mixed and non-regular beliefs - coping the opinion of the stricter religious traditions.

Even today the Lord's proposal stands out - because it doesn’t claim to prepare the Kingdom, but rather welcomes and listens to it.

It will be Christ-in-us alone to nourish us towards an uninterrupted and growing way, in the commitment to start afresh in the task of ‘finding ourselves’ and emancipating the world - in a climate of austerity, balanced.

The Call of the Gospels remains respectful, concrete and strongly prophetic at the same time, because it arouses attention to people, to reality, and our joy - much more than to unsolicited standards of improvement, or other patches (v.16).

By not overwhelming or imposing artificial loads on believers, the life of Faith brings freedom into play [and thus makes it known to us] so that we become aware and assume it in order to be able to invest as Grace, charge and resource of novelty.

The renouncing and mortifying mechanisms, of individualistic perfection, are alien from the start - unless they are designed for the sharing of goods.

Jesus doesn’t come to make a small group of followers seated on the chair of austerity, but to communicate that the relationship with God is a celebration.

Fasting pleasing to the Father lies in the lucid experience of one's own unrepeatable eccentricity and Call, in freeing oneself from the selfishness that holds back, and in bringing relief to one's neighbor.

For this reason the Church has almost completely abolished the precept of external fasting, while it intends to commit more to forms of limitation in favor of the uncertain, humble and needy.

To internalize and live the message:

Do you practice fasting? From what? And for what purpose?

[Friday after the Ashes,  March 7, 2025]

(Mt 9:14-15)

Fasting has travelled through all religious and mystical traditions, because it is intended to bring women and men closer to their own profound essence - to listening to themselves, to the codes of the sacred, to their inner cosmos, to their vocation, to the sacred pages - in the expectation of transformation.

One entrusts oneself to a different wisdom - less noisy - that can activate processes of metamorphosis, precisely by making a void from the intrusions of homologated thought, from external habits or conformisms that tend to overwhelm the personality.

By detaching, the torments will vanish, replaced by other interests and lucid dreams; aroused by the new breakthrough to our eternal side, and by that reliance on the core of being that is still creating us.

Psycho-physical and supernatural unity is a prodigious organism, which can clear away the fog and enhance its capacities with various forms of suspension and cleansing, even mental cleansing - which will take us where we need to go.

But in the specifics of the children of God, all this is aimed at sharpening the gaze in the sense of knowledge, discovery, surprise of unsuspected singular and missionary capacities and qualities. Those that flow from the discovery of the eminent Self, from one's own founding Relationship - to become uniqueness of exceptional relationship with others, in the Exodus that corresponds to us.

Fasting is a principle of regeneration that has a unique healing power, both detoxifying and essential. It activates the energies of one's humanity and at the same time one's diversity.

This silent practice addresses the deep layers, the inner dimension, which become the guide (and we risk ignoring).

But here, understanding dissimilarities remains indispensable. For us, it is a gesture of openness!

Other kinds of diets or athleticism are not infrequently deviant: their very nonmeaning brings sadness and even depression.

Fasting remains a sign of waiting for the fulfilment, but now the sadness is meaningless.

In the time of the Church that makes the Risen One present, the renunciation of gorging is not a form of penitence but of hope (v.20).

And it serves to keep the heart of the Bridegroom's friends clear of vanities, with a form of identification with the poor.

But Jesus does not come to make himself a group of followers sitting on the chair of austerity, but to communicate that the relationship with God is a feast!

In short, fasting pleasing to the Father lies in the lucid experience of one's own unique eccentricity and calling, in freeing oneself from the selfishness of grabbing for oneself, and bringing relief to one's neighbour.

It creates life, not diminishes it.

Fasting was a sign of deep religiosity, so Jesus' disciples - who did not fast, indeed their existence had a festive character - were likened more or less to sinners.

Although there were no formal prescriptions, these were pious practices that became customary in observant circles [here seriousness was everything] linked to precisely marked days.

In Semitic beliefs, fasting was in particular expressive of the devout man's embarrassment and affliction in the quivering expectation of the messianic times, which were delayed.

This is why Jesus associates fasting with mourning - which no longer has any meaning in life as the wedding feast without qualms that He inaugurates.

Where precisely there is no need for additions, no need for checks or imprints, marks or distinguishing characteristics.

Nor is the New Covenant a modernisation of moral practices or pious prescriptions that provide an external religious pass.

Everything is in relation to the real presence of the Bridegroom, who does not punish life.

Of course, he who proceeds on the path of emancipation and is not satisfied with a partial Jesus the Bridegroom, already knows in himself what awaits him...

Then (v.15) in the strident confrontation with the religious leaders - clinging to prestige - there is sadness and humiliation to no end. So much for fasting from food.

However, whoever has decided to continue his journey of vocational freedom knows that he must relive the same events of blatant conflict that pitted the Master against the mentality and authorities of his time; finally, in this real encounter with Him, experience the total gift of life (v.15).

It will only be the Christ-in-us, even if it is centred and not definitive, that will nourish soul and body in an uninterrupted and growing way.

This with the commitment to start again in the mission of finding ourselves and giving breath to the world.

In an atmosphere of quiet austerity; without artificial brakes.

In the communities of Judaizing extraction addressed by Mt, there was a strong need to free the Risen One from fetters [disciplinary fixations, timetables, calendar].

Believers perceived Him to be alive - accomplice to the new humanising character they experienced day by day.

The evangelist wanted to direct his assemblies in Galilee and Syria [perhaps in the mid-1970s] not to cling to false securities. 

One had to take an entirely alternative position and not end up like the 'fathers' or the groups around them, of ancient and sectarian religious extraction.

But even the Judaizers tried to reduce pure Faith - foundation and enthusiastic participation - to rigid beliefs and any number of practices.

Vicious circles that ended up transmitting old feelings of guilt instead of unusual relational insights.

Indeed, most Jewish converts tended towards nostalgias that were a hindrance and hindrance.

It was precisely such veterans who struggled to embrace the new habitus of freedom, and the full froth of the Gospel, in an enthusiastic manner.

Even today, the Lord's Proposal stands out from all exclusivist doctrines, full of prescriptions and fulfilments.

His Presence shines through in spirit. And his intimates do not pretend to prepare the Kingdom, but welcome it and listen to it - with trust in life.

This is what happens in the time of crisis, which is disposing to a less outward, more global fasting - considerable but wise.

A fast that can lead humanity to sensitive perception, to a sense of communion, to silence and embrace; to less egocentric and dirigiste impetus. To a deepening - and wholeness.

The Tao Tê Ching (v) writes: "The space between Heaven and Earth, how it resembles a bellows!".

Master Wang Pi comments: 'If the bellows had a will of its own in blowing, it could not implement the intent of the one who makes it blow'.

And Master Ho-shang Kung adds: 'Many endeavours harm the spirit'.

In short, Christ treasures natural wisdom and does not reduce us to the measure of any religion: he does not confine believers to 'negotiations' through petty procedures of athleticism and individual perfection.

He does not insist on heroic mortifications, extraordinary renunciations, punctilious observance of sterile - one-sided - laws, unless they are conceived in order to find each other, to humanise, to share goods.

The Call of the Gospels remains at once balanced, concrete and strongly prophetic.

A call that arouses attention to people, to reality, to our joy - much more than to unsolicited aseptic polishing rules, or other patches (v.16).

By neither overpowering nor imposing artificial burdens on believers, the life of Faith brings self-determination into play.

Thus it makes it known to us - so that we become aware of it and take it on in order to be able to invest it as Grace, charge (not diminish): a resource of newness.

The ascetic mechanisms of individualist refinement are alien from the outset: the goal is to create family, not to carve out a circle of hard and pure men all external and proud of themselves, who distance themselves from weaker brothers and sisters.

Then, self-satisfied, they become disloyal, usurpers, schemers: a history of flaws, equivocal plots and pastoral delays, behind an impeccable façade of cerebral doctrines, disciplines (in their own way) and resounding commemorations over the body of the 'poor departed'.

This is why the Church has almost completely abolished the precept of outward fasting, while it intends to make a greater commitment to forms of restraint in favour of the sick, marginalised, humble and needy.

The choice wants to remain clear: freedom is priceless.

And there is no love if someone - even God - cuts off or overpowers the other, imposing artificial yokes, too much the same as always; unbearable, extravagant, unhealthy.

So the old containers are no longer to be matched with the new ferment. The practice of patching damages both custom and the Newness of God.

Certainly, old wine and cassocks have a fascination for the senses and the vintage epidermal imagination....

That is why they continue to appeal [Lk 5:39: "The old man is excellent!"]. Not a few want to combine it with the Lord (Mt 9:17; Mk 2:22; Lk 5:37-38).

The Master was not for himself an opponent of the spirit of old, but he fought against its unshakable shells. Even then, they were empty shells, which in fact prevented the manifestation of an unseen Face of the Eternal Living One, and of a more genuine idea of a successful man - the germ of an alternative, fraternal society.

Realities well separated from the intimist or self-referential ones typical of official or do-it-yourself cults. All innovations that had to manifest themselves.

The taste and aftertaste of old wine cloaked devotional rites and seasoned customs with artfulness, levity and evocative charm, but they stayed there and did not scratch life.

They remembered, but they did not memorialise - that is, they did not re-actualise for the little people.

In the practice of the many cults, in its feats of catechesis without pastoral nerve, even today in the provinces we notice [for decades] a mechanical pre-conciliar regurgitation, which stops at the great icons.

Wonders and memories of Salvation History... that's it.

It has seemed easier to local leaders to return to customs and abbreviated catechisms than to face the educational risk that the Magisterium itself would impose. 

The immediate result was valued as desirable and profitable, for the [underneath] fundamentalist or glamorous sector, and astute - willingly supplanting the unknown effervescence of new wine.

In fact, on the part of those who know 'how to be in the world', one still has to endure a whole superficiality of retreats and habitual accommodations, which redeem no one and bring no joy, because they do not enter into personal human affairs.

Then settling for the fish menu on Fridays. Genuine superfluity.

But those who stop at the past of mortifications and papier-mâché can never understand the Reformation that the Spirit proposes to edify every soul in authentic fulfilment, which makes us better hold one another.

Thus, in the coexistence and conviviality of differences, the old containers must no longer be coupled with the new ferment.

The practice of patching can, on the one hand, damage customs, because they have their own refined and pronounced taste (relevant in itself) - on the other hand, it distracts and attenuates the life of change, in the Exodus that does not extinguish us.

In short, the Lord does not envisage for us a practice of mending and enclosing boundaries: rather, he wants to break cages.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you fast? From what? And for what purpose? Does it break cages? Is it or is it not in order to know each other, find each other, and listen, heal, share, embrace, hold each other better?

What inner conflicts do you experience around religious practices that you feel still bring suffering to people and are not a spousal expression or a reason for emancipation for women and men?

What image of God and believing humanity is subject to preconceptions and prohibitions? How do you demonstrate the primacy of Jesus in every area of life?

Christ reveals his identity of Messiah, Israel's bridegroom, who came for the betrothal with his people. Those who recognize and welcome him are celebrating. However, he will have to be rejected and killed precisely by his own; at that moment, during his Passion and death, the hour of mourning and fasting will come.

As I mentioned, the Gospel episode anticipates the meaning of Lent. As a whole, it constitutes a great memorial of the Lord's Passion in preparation for his Paschal Resurrection. During this season, we abstain from singing the "Alleluia" and we are asked to make appropriate penitential sacrifices.
The season of Lent should not be faced with an "old" spirit, as if it were a heavy and tedious obligation, but with the new spirit of those who have found the meaning of life in Jesus and in his Paschal Mystery and realize that henceforth everything must refer to him.

This was the attitude of the Apostle Paul who affirmed that he had left everything behind in order to know Christ and "the power of his resurrection, and [to] share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that if possible [he might] attain the resurrection from the dead" (Phil 3: 10-11).

May our guide and teacher in our Lenten journey be Mary Most Holy, who followed Jesus with total faith when he set out with determination for Jerusalem, to suffer the Passion. She received like a "fresh skin" the "new wine" brought by the Son for the messianic betrothal (cf. Mk 2: 22). And so it was that the grace she requested with a motherly instinct for the spouses at Cana, she herself had first received beneath the Cross, poured out from the pierced Heart of the Son, an incarnation of God's love for humanity (cf. Deus Caritas Est, nn. 13-15).

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 26 February 2006]

1. "Sanctify a fast!" (Joel 1:14). They are the words that we listened to in the first reading on Ash Wednesday. They were written by the Prophet Joel, and the Church establishes the practice of Lent in conformity with them, ordering fasting. Today the practice of Lent, defined by Paul VI in the Constitution "Poenitemini ", is considerably reduced as compared with practices of the past. In this matter the Pope left a great deal to the decision of the Episcopal Conferences of the individual countries. They, therefore, have the task of adapting the requirements of fasting according to the circumstances that prevail in their respective societies. He also recalled that the essence of Lenten repentance consists not only of fasting, but also of prayer and almsdeeds (works of mercy). So it is necessary to decide according to circumstances, since fasting itself can be "replaced" by works of mercy and prayer. The aim of this particular period in the life of the Church is always and everywhere repentance, that is, conversion to God. Repentance, in fact, understood as conversion, that is "metanoia", forms a whole, which the tradition of the People of God already in the old Covenant and then Christ himself linked, in a certain way, with prayer, almsdeeds and fasting.

Why to fasting?

At this moment there perhaps come into our minds the words with which Jesus answered the disciples of John the Baptist when they asked him: "Why do your disciples not fast?" Jesus answered: "Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast" (Mt 9:15). In fact the time of Lent reminds us that the bridegroom has been taken away from us. Taken away, arrested, imprisoned, slapped, scourged, crowned with thorns, crucified... Fasting in the time of Lent is the expression of our solidarity with Christ. Such was the meaning of Lent throughout the centuries and such it remains today.

"My love has been crucified and there is no longer in me the flame that desires material things", as the Bishop of Antioch, Ignatius, writes in the letter to the Romans (Ign. Antioch,. Ad Romanos VII, 2).

2. Why fasting?

It is necessary to give this question a wider and deeper answer, in order to clarify the relationship between fasting and "metanoia", that is, that spiritual change which brings man closer to God. We will try therefore to concentrate not only on the practice of abstention from food or from drink — that, in fact, is the meaning of "fasting" in the common sense — but on the deeper meaning of this practice which, moreover, can and must sometimes be "replaced" by another one. Food and drink are indispensable for man to live, he uses them and must use them, but he may not abuse them in any way. The traditional abstention from food and drink has as its purpose to introduce into man's existence not only the necessary balance, but also detachment from what might be defined a "consumer attitude". In our times this attitude has become one of the characteristics of civilization and in particular of Western civilization. The consumer attitude!

Man geared to material goods, multiple material goods, very often abuses them. It is not a question here lust of food and drink. When man is geared exclusively to possession and use of material goods — that is, of things — then also the whole civilization is measured according to the quantity and the quality of the things with which it is in a position to supply man, and is not measured with the yardstick suitable for man. This civilization, in fact, supplies material goods not just in order that they may serve man to carry out creative and useful activities, but more and more... to satisfy the senses, the excitement he derives from them, momentary pleasure, an ever greater multiplicity of sensations.

We sometimes hear it said that the excessive increase of audiovisual media in the rich countries is not always useful for the development of intelligence, particularly in children; on the contrary, it sometimes contributes to checking its development. The child lives only on sensations, he looks for ever-new sensations... And thus he becomes, without realizing it, a slave of this modern passion. Satiating himself with sensations, he often remains passive intellectually; the intellect does not open to search of truth; the will remains bound by habit which it is unable to oppose.

It is seen from this that modern man must fast, that is, abstain not only from food or drink, but from many other means of consumption, stimulation, satisfaction of the senses. To fast means to abstain, to renounce something.

3. Why renounce something? Why deprive oneself of it? We have already partly answered this question. However the answer will not be complete, if we do not realize that man is himself also because he succeeds in depriving himself of something, because he is capable of saying "no" to himself. Man is a being composed of body and soul. Some modern writers present this composite structure of man in the form of layers, and they speak, for example, of exterior layers on the surface of our personality, contrasting them with the layers in depth. Our life seems to be divided into such layers and takes place through them. While the superficial layers are bound up with our sensuality, the deep layers are an expression, on the contrary, of man's spirituality, that is, of conscious will, reflection, conscience, the capacity of living superior values.

This image of the structure of the human personality can serve to understand the meaning of fasting for man. It is not a question here only of the religious meaning, but of a meaning that is expressed through the so-called "organization" of man as a subject-person. Man develops regularly when the deeper layers of his personality find sufficient expression, when the sphere of his interests and aspirations is not limited just to the exterior and superficial layers, connected with human sensuality. To facilitate such a development, we must sometimes deliberately detach ourselves from what serves to satisfy sensuality, that is, from those exterior, superficial layers. Therefore we must renounce every thing that "nourishes" them.

This, in short, is the interpretation of fasting nowadays.

Renunciation of sensations, stimuli, pleasures and even food or drink, is not an end in itself. It must only, so to speak, prepare the way for deeper contents by which the interior man "is nourished". This renunciation, this mortification must serve to create in man the conditions to be able to live the superior values, for which he, in his own way, hungers.

This is the "full" meaning of fasting in the language of today. However, when we read the Christian authors of antiquity or the Fathers of the Church, we find in them the same truth, often expressed in a surprisingly "modern" language. St Peter Chrysologus, for example, says.. "Fasting is peace of the body, strength of minds, vigour of souls" (Sermo VII: de jejunio 3); and again: "Fasting is the helm of human life and governs the whole ship of our body." (Sermo VII: de jejunio 1.)

And St Ambrose replies as follows to possible objections to fasting: "The flesh, because of its mortal condition, has some specific lusts: With regard to them you are granted the right to curb them. Your flesh is under you...: do not follow the promptings of the flesh to unlawful things, but curb them somewhat even as regards lawful ones. In fact he who does not abstain from any of the lawful things, is also very close to unlawful things." (Sermo de utilitate jejunii III.V.VII). Also writers not belonging to Christianity declare the same truth. This truth is of universal significance. It is part of the universal wisdom of life.

4. It is now certainly easier for us to understand why Christ the Lord and the Church unite the call to fasting with repentance, that is, with conversion. To be converted to God, it is necessary to discover in ourselves that which makes us sensitive to what belongs to God; therefore, the spiritual contents, the superior values which speak to our intellect, to our conscience, to our "heart" (according to biblical language). To open up to these spiritual contents, to these values, it is necessary to detach oneself from what serves only the consumer spirit, satisfaction of the senses. In the opening of our human personality to God, fasting — understood both in the "traditional" way and in the "modern" way — must go hand in hand with prayer because it is addressed directly to him.

Furthermore, fasting, that is, the mortification of the senses, mastery of the  body, confer on prayer a greater efficacy, which man discovers in himself. He discovers, in fact, that he is "different", that he is more "master of himself", that he has become interiorly free. And he realizes this in as much as conversion and the meeting with God, through prayer, bear fruit in him.

It is clear from these our reflections today that fasting is not only a "vestige" of a religious practice of past centuries, but that it is also indispensable for the man of today, for Christians of our time.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 21 March 1979]

But what kind of penance and fasting does the Lord want from man? The risk, in fact, is of 'rigging' a virtuous practice, of being 'inconsistent'. And it is not just a question of "food choices", but of lifestyles for which one must have the "humility" and "consistency" to recognise and correct one's sins.

This is in short the reflection that, at the beginning of the Lenten journey, the Pontiff proposed to the faithful during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on the morning of Friday 16 February.

Key word of the meditation, suggested by the liturgy of the day, was "fasting": "Fasting before God, fasting that is adoration, fasting in earnest", because "fasting is one of the tasks to be done in Lent". But not in the sense of those who say: 'I only eat the Lenten dishes'. In fact, Francis commented, 'those dishes make a banquet! It is not changing dishes or making fish one way, the other, tastier'. Otherwise, one does nothing but 'continue the carnival'.

It is the word of God, he emphasised, that admonishes that 'our fasting be true. True in earnest'. And, he added, 'if you cannot do total fasting, the kind that makes one feel hungry to the bone', at least 'do a humble fast, but a true fast'.

In the first reading (Isaiah 58:1-9), in this regard, "the prophet points out many inconsistencies in the practice of virtue". And precisely "this is one of the inconsistencies". Isaiah's list is detailed: 'You say that you seek me, you speak to me. But it is not true', and 'on the day of your fasting you mind your own business': that is, while 'fasting is a little stripping', you are concerned with 'making money'. And again: 'Angariate all your workers': in other words, the Pope explained, while one says: 'I thank you Lord that I can fast', one despises the workers who 'must fast because they have no food'. The prophet's accusation is direct: "Behold, you fast amid quarrels and altercations and striking with unjust fists.

This is an inadmissible double face. The Pontiff explained: "If you want to do penance, do it in peace. But you cannot on the one hand speak to God and on the other speak to the devil, invite both to fast; this is an inconsistency". And, always following the indications of Scripture - "Do not fast any longer as you do today, so that your noise may be heard on high" - Francis warned against incoherent exhibitionism. It is the attitude of those who, for example, always remind us: 'we are Catholics, we practise; I belong to that association, we always fast, we do penance'. He ideally asked them: "But, do you fast consistently or do you do penance inconsistently as the Lord says, with noise, so that everyone sees it, and says, 'What a righteous person, what a righteous man, what a righteous woman'?" This, indeed, "is a trick; it is rigging virtue. It is rigging the commandment'. And it is, he added, a "temptation" that we have all felt at times, "to make up instead of being serious about virtue, about what the Lord asks of us".

On the contrary, the Lord "advises penitents, those who fast, to put on make-up, but seriously: 'Fast, but put on make-up so that people do not see that you are doing penance. Smile, be happy". Faced with so many who "are hungry and cannot smile", this is the suggestion to the believer: "You seek hunger to help others, but always with a smile, because you are a child of God and the Lord loves you so much and has revealed these things to you. But without inconsistency'.

At this point, the Pontiff's reflection went even deeper, prompted by the question: "what fast does the Lord want?". The answer comes again from Scripture, where first of all we read: 'Fold your head like a reed'. That is: to humble oneself. And to those who ask: "How do I humble myself?", the Pope replied: "But think of your sins. Each one of us has many. And 'be ashamed', because even if the world does not know them, God knows them well. This, then, 'is the fast the Lord wants: truth, consistency'.

There is then an addition: "Loose the unrighteous chains" and "remove the bond of the yoke". The examination of conscience, in this case, focuses on the relationship with others. To make himself better understood, the Pope gave a very practical example: "I think of so many maids who earn their bread with their work" and who are often "humiliated, despised". Here his reflection gave way to personal recollection: "Never have I been able to forget a time when I went to a friend's house as a child. I saw my mother slap the maid. Eighty-one years old... I have not forgotten that'. Hence a series of questions ideally addressed to those who have servants: 'How do you treat them? As people or as slaves? Do you pay them fairly, do you give them holidays? Is it a person or is it an animal that helps you in your home?". A request for consistency that also applies to religious, "in our homes, in our institutions: how do I behave with the maid I have at home, with the maids I have at home?". Here the Pontiff added another personal experience, recalling a "very cultured" gentleman who, however, "exploited the maids". and who, when confronted with the consideration that this was "a grave sin" against people who are "the image of God", objected: "No, Father, we must distinguish: these are inferior people".

We must therefore 'remove the bond of the yoke, loosen the iniquitous chains, set the oppressed free, break every yoke'. And, commenting on the prophet who admonishes: "share your bread with the hungry, bring in the wretched, the homeless", the Pope contextualised: "Today we discuss whether or not we give shelter to those who come to ask for it..."

And the indications continue: "Clothe one you see naked", but "without neglecting your relatives". This is real fasting, the kind that involves everyday life. "We need to do penance, we need to feel a little hungry, we need to pray more," Francis said; but if "we do a lot of penance" and do not live fasting in this way, "the sprout that will be born from there" will be "pride", that of someone who says: "I thank you, Lord, because I can fast like a saint". And this, he added, "is the ugly trick", not what Jesus himself suggests "so that others do not see that I fast" (cf. Matthew, 6:16-18).

The question to ask, the Pontiff concluded, is: "How do I behave with others? Does my fasting come to help others?". Because if this does not happen, that fast "is fake, it is incoherent and leads you down the path of a double life". One must, therefore, "humbly ask for the grace of consistency."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 17.02.2018]

8th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  March 2nd, 2025

 God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

*First Reading from the Book of Sirach (27:4-7)

 This is a book of the Bible that has had a rather eventful journey. To begin with, it bears three names: Ben Sira the Wise, Sirach, and Ecclesiasticus. Sirach or Ben Sira are two similar names, both related to his family name. "Ben" means "son of", so the author is the son of Sira. At the end of the book, he signs himself 'Jesus, son of Sira', which offers a further indication, since Jesus is a typically Jewish name. It is therefore a Jew from Jerusalem writing in Hebrew, and the title 'the Wise' makes it clear that this is neither a historical nor a prophetic book, but one of those books called 'sapiential'. It is called Ecclesiastical because in the first centuries of Christianity, the Church made the newly baptised read this book to complete their moral education. The book was written by Ben Sira in Jerusalem in Hebrew around 180 B.C., translated into Greek some fifty years later, around 130 B.C. by his own nephew in Alexandria. In the Bible, Sirach occupies a special place: it belongs to the books called 'deuterocanonical'. In fact, when at the end of the first century A.D. the doctors of the law definitively established the official list of writings considered part of the Bible, not all the books circulating in Israel were included. Some texts were recognised by all as the Word of God - for example, the Book of Genesis or Exodus. But for some more recent texts, the question remained open. Sirach was among them and was eventually excluded because to enter the official canon of the Hebrew Bible, a book had to be written in Hebrew and written in the land of Israel. But at the time the canon was established (late 1st century AD), the Hebrew original of Sirach was lost and only the Greek translation circulated in Alexandria. For this reason, the book was not accepted by the Jewish communities in the land of Israel. However, in the Jewish communities of the diaspora (especially in Alexandria), it was already considered part of the Bible, so it continued to be recognised.

The Christian community, on the other hand, received it through the Greek-speaking communities, and thus Sirach became part of the Christian biblical canon.  The author, Ben Sira, may have founded a school of wisdom in Jerusalem and this is deduced from the last chapters of the book, which appear to be a collection of teachings for young Jewish students, apprentice philosophers, in Jerusalem around 180 BC.  

Jerusalem at that time was under Greek rule, but the occupation was relatively liberal and peaceful as persecution began later, under Antiochus Epiphanes, around 165 BC. However, although the Greek power respected the Jewish religion, the contact between the two cultures endangered the purity of the faith.

This excessive cultural openness could lead to dangerous syncretism, a problem similar to that of our time: we live in an age of tolerance that can easily turn into religious indifference. Is it not true that today we are like in a supermarket of ideas and values, where everyone takes what they prefer and this even seems logical and to be accepted as the best choice?  One of Ben Sira's goals was to convey the Jewish faith in its integrity, in particular the love for God's Law (Torah). According to him, true wisdom resided in the Law of Israel. Israel had to preserve its identity and faith in order to keep alive the teaching of the Fathers in faith and purity of customs, and these were considered to be the fundamental principles for the survival of the chosen people. 

Coming to the content, the book is like a collection of sayings and proverbs that are interesting but not always immediately understandable to us, because they use images and sayings belonging to another culture. In today's text, Ben Sira uses three images that were very common at the time. If gold is passed through a sieve, the slag is evident; when a pot is baked in the oven, one can immediately see if it has been well worked, and a healthy tree produces good fruit. So then, just as the sieve separates the gold from the impurities, the fire of the oven reveals the qualities of the pot and from the fruit we can tell whether the tree is healthy or diseased, so our words reveal the true nature of our heart because only a good heart will speak good words. About two hundred years later, Jesus teaches the same thing as we read in this Sunday's gospel: "The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; the evil man out of his evil treasure brings forth evil: for his mouth expresses that which out of his heart overflows" (Lk 6:45). Our words are the mirror of our heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (91 (92), 2-3. 13-14. 15-16)

Israel accused God of deception in the Sinai desert when dehydration threatened men and animals: the famous episode of Massa and Meriba (Ex 17:1-7).  God, however, proved greater than the wrath of his people: he caused water to spring from a rock. Since then, God has been called our rock as a reminder of his faithfulness, steadier than all the suspicions of the people. From this rock Israel drew the water of its survival... but more importantly, over the centuries, it became the source of its faith and trust. This concept is expressed at the end of the psalm: 'to proclaim how righteous is the Lord, my rock'. The reference to the rock recalls the experience of the desert and the faithfulness of God, stronger than any rebellion. The expression "your love and your faithfulness" (v. 3) also recalls the experience of the desert: they are the words that God himself used to reveal himself to his people: "The Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, rich in faithfulness and loyalty..." an expression taken up many times in the Bible, especially in the Psalms, as a sign of the Covenant between God and his people: "God of love and faithfulness, slow to anger and rich in mercy" (Ex 34:6).  The episode of Massa and Meriba - the trial in the wilderness, the people's suspicion, God's intervention - was repeated so often that Israel ended up realising that it was a constant risk: man is always tempted to be suspicious of God when things do not go as he wishes. The Garden of Eden story helps to understand this important lesson: the cunning serpent manages to convince the progenitors that it is God who is deceiving them. In fact, he misrepresents God's thinking by claiming that he forbids them the best fruits under the guise of protecting them when in fact it is the opposite and Adam and Eve allow themselves to be deceived. Unfortunately, it is a story that repeats itself throughout history and how is it possible to avoid demonic deception? This psalm helps us by suggesting that we should have confidence: "It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, to proclaim in the morning your love, your faithfulness through the night. It is indeed good for us to praise the Lord and sing to his name, and Israel understood that praising, singing to God is good for man himself. St Augustine said it clearly: "Everything that man does for God, benefits man and not God." Singing for God, opening our eyes to his love and faithfulness, day and night, protects us from the wiles of the serpent. In this psalm, the expression "it is good" corresponds to the Hebrew term "tôv", the same used to say "good to eat", but to know it, one must have experienced it, and that is why the psalm adds in verse 7 (which we do not read today): "The foolish man does not know them and the foolish man does not understand", but the believer knows "how righteous is the Lord, my rock: in him there is no wickedness".  Only an unshakeable trust in God's love can illuminate man's life in all circumstances, while distrust and suspicion completely distort our view of reality. To be suspicious of God is a deadly trap. He who trusts in God is like a tree that is always green, always maintaining its sap and freshness (cf. Psalm 1). Jesus spoke of "living water" taking up an image familiar to the people of the time. Not only is it good for ourselves to praise and sing God's love, but it is also good for others to hear it from us. For this purpose, the psalm repeats at the beginning and end: 'It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, and to proclaim your love'. "To proclaim" means to proclaim to others, to unbelievers: once again, Israel recalls its mission as a witness to God's love for all men. To conclude, I note that this psalm bears a heading: 'Psalm for the Sabbath day', the day par excellence on which God's love and faithfulness are sung. One could make this psalm the psalm for Sunday, because for us Sunday is the celebration of God's love and faithfulness which in Jesus Christ have been manifested in a definitive way. 

*Second Reading from the First Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:54-58)

 For several weeks now we have been reading chapter 15 of Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, which is a long reflection on the Resurrection. Today Paul concludes his meditation with a cry of triumph: 'Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ' (v 57). It is the victory of the Resurrection because, as he writes, what is corruptible in us will become incorruptible, what is mortal will clothe immortality (v 53): immortality, incorruptibility are God's prerogatives. Only in this way will we become in the image and likeness of God, according to the original plan announced and realised throughout the entire itinerary of the Bible, with humanity's many failures and God's continuous interventions to save his plan of love. It is the plan of salvation: that is, God saves us in order to be truly happy and accomplishes it through various stages that the letter to the Ephesians summarises as follows: "making known to us the mystery of his will, according to the kindness which in him he had purposed for the government of the fullness of time: to bring all things, those in heaven and those on earth, back to Christ, the one head". (Eph 1:9-10). In creating humanity, the Lord had the plan to make it happy, united, filled with the Spirit of God, admitted to share in the life of the Trinity. A plan that has never failed and subsists forever because the designs of God's heart endure from generation to generation (cf. Ps 32/33). This is noted by the prophet Isaiah: "My plan shall endure and all that pleases me I will fulfil" (Is 46:1) and also Jeremiah: "I know the plans I have made for you - the Lord's oracle - plans of prosperity and not of misfortune: I will give you a future and a hope" (Jer 29:11). Human history therefore has meaning, significance and direction. That is, we know where we are going and the years do not all follow one another in the same way, because God has a project, a definite plan. We are oriented towards the future and we wait for this plan to be fulfilled by praying with our Father, that his kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. However, history testifies that humanity is falling short of this plan and people do not seem to cooperate. God respects our freedom and we often seem unwilling to listen to God's voice because it is a project that exceeds our rational perspectives. But why wonder? St Paul says that this project - he calls it the mystery of God's will - exceeds us and is unthinkable for us. Humanity, however, has two choices: accept the project and strive to advance it, or reject it and look elsewhere for our own happiness. Adam is the example of one who refuses and takes another direction, to his own detriment. God, however, remains patient and will save his project by not allowing himself to be discouraged by man's ill will because no one and nothing can extinguish the fire of God's love for us. We read in the Song of Songs that "Great waters could not quench Love and rivers would not submerge it" (Song 8:6-7a). Therein lies our hope, which Paul vigorously proclaims: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?". It is certainly not biological death that separates us from him and our brothers, for we shall rise again, but spiritual death, the consequence of sin. Yet sin too is defeated by Jesus Christ: henceforth, grafted into the risen Christ, we can live like him and with him win the game of love. Indeed, Paul affirms that the victory is already won: contrary to what it seems, death and sin are the great losers and God's plan is saved: Jesus, with the forgiveness given to all, frees us from our sins and, if we want, the door is open to the Holy Spirit. We can then live the love and fraternity for which we are created. St Paul's cry of triumph resounds in us: "Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" All that remains is for us to continue in the commitment of the struggle with Christ: "Therefore, my beloved brethren, remain steadfast and unshakable, making ever greater progress in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labour is not in vain in the Lord". 

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (6:39-45)

 We find here several instructions of Jesus that are like warnings concerning relationships within the Christian community, recommendations that are also present in the gospels of Matthew and John although in no particular order and proclaimed in different contexts. St Luke grouped them here because he probably saw a link between them and it is precisely this link that we seek to understand together. To better proceed we divide the text into two parts: the first is a reflection on the gaze, while the second is the metaphor of the tree and the fruit. In the first part, Jesus develops the theme of the gaze and begins with an observation: a blind man cannot guide another blind man, and the message is clear: we must be very careful because when we act as guides, we must not forget that we are blind from birth. The apologue of the mote and the beam goes in this direction since with a beam in one's eye, one is truly blind and cannot claim to cure the blindness of others. Between these two observations, Luke inserts a phrase that at first sight seems enigmatic: 'A disciple is no more than the teacher; but everyone who is well prepared will be like his teacher'. The preparation Jesus speaks of is, in a sense, the healing of us who are blind. It is Luke himself who notes that the disciples of Emmaus only began to see clearly when "Jesus opened their minds to the understanding of the Scriptures" (Lk 24:45). Since Jesus came into the world to open the eyes of the blind, his disciples, healed by him from their blindness, also have the mission to bring the light of revelation to the world. What the prophet Isaiah said about the servant of God, in the so-called servant songs, is true for Jesus Christ, but also for his disciples: "I have destined you to be the light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free from prison the captive and from prison those who dwell in darkness" (Is 42:6-7). This is a very interesting mission, which we can only cope with by always remaining under the light of the Master and letting him heal our blindness. The evangelist then moves without transition to the metaphor of the tree and the fruit, which suggests that the theme is still the same: the true disciple, who allows himself to be enlightened by Jesus Christ, bears good fruit, but he who, on the contrary, does not allow Jesus Christ to enlighten him, remains in his blindness and produces bad fruit. It is now necessary to understand what fruits are involved. Taking into account that the text is after an entire discourse of Jesus on mutual love, we can understand that the fruits are related to our behaviour. The guiding rule is "Be merciful as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:36).  It was not difficult for Jesus' contemporaries to understand this language: they knew that the Father expects fruits of justice and mercy from us, which can be both actions and words because "the mouth speaks from the fullness of the heart" (Lk 6:45). In the first reading we read that the fruit manifests the quality of the tree; in the same way the word reveals the feelings and one should not praise anyone before he has spoken, because it is precisely his word that allows one to judge him. It is truly extraordinary how in a few words Luke has developed the whole Christian mystery: when we allow ourselves to be formed by Christ we are transformed in our whole being: in our gaze, behaviour and language. A teaching that returns often in the New Testament as, for example, in the Letter to the Philippians: "You shine like stars in the world, holding fast the word of life" (Phil 2:15-16), or in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Once you were darkness, now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light. The fruit of light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth" (Eph 5:8). The first step is to learn to look at others as God looks at them: with a gaze that does not judge, that does not condemn, that does not take pleasure in pointing out a speck in the other's eye, that is, in noticing something really tiny. Just as the straw is blown away by the wind and therefore without depth and importance, so too must the faults of others be counted. If Jesus does not give them importance, the disciple well trained in his school will be like his master. This sentence is followed by the whole discourse on God's mercy and our vocation to be like him, a very ambitious life programme: love your enemies, be merciful, do not judge, do not condemn because your Father is merciful and we are called to be his image in the world. Jesus concludes thus: the mouth of the disciple expresses that which overflows from the heart. To become God's image, the secret is to immerse ourselves in his Word.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Short Commentary:

*First Reading from the Book of Sirach (27:4-7)

 This is a book of the Bible that has had a rather eventful journey. To begin with, it bears three names: Ben Sira the Wise, Sirach, and Ecclesiasticus. Sirach or Ben Sira are two similar names, both related to his family name. "Ben" means "son of", so the author is the son of Sira. At the end of the book, he signs himself 'Jesus, son of Sira', which offers a further indication, since Jesus is a typically Jewish name. It is therefore a Jew from Jerusalem writing in Hebrew, and the title 'the Wise' makes it clear that this is neither a historical nor a prophetic book, but one of those books called 'sapiential'. It is called Ecclesiastical because in the first centuries of Christianity, the Church made the newly baptised read this book to complete their moral education. The book was written by Ben Sira in Jerusalem in Hebrew around 180 B.C., translated into Greek some fifty years later, around 130 B.C. by his own nephew in Alexandria. In the Bible, Sirach occupies a special place: it belongs to the books called 'deuterocanonical'. In fact, when at the end of the first century A.D. the doctors of the law definitively fixed the official list of writings considered part of the Bible, not all the books that circulated in Israel were included. Some texts were recognised by all as the Word of God - for example, the Book of Genesis or Exodus. But for some more recent texts, the question remained open. Sirach was among them and was eventually excluded because to enter the official canon of the Hebrew Bible, a book had to be written in Hebrew and written in the land of Israel. But at the time the canon was established (late 1st century AD), the Hebrew original of Sirach was lost and only the Greek translation circulated in Alexandria. For this reason, the book was not accepted by the Jewish communities in the land of Israel. However, in the Jewish communities of the diaspora (especially in Alexandria), it was already considered part of the Bible, so it continued to be recognised. The Christian community, on the other hand, received it through the Greek-speaking communities, and thus Sirach became part of the Christian biblical canon. 

Turning to the content, the book is like a collection of maxims and proverbs using images and sayings belonging to another culture. In today's text, Ben Sira uses three images that were very common at the time. If gold is passed through a sieve, the slag is evident; when a pot is baked in the oven, one can see at once whether it has been well worked, and a healthy tree produces good fruit. So then, just as the sieve separates the gold from the impurities, the fire of the oven reveals the qualities of the pot and from the fruit one can tell whether the tree is healthy or diseased, so our words reveal the true nature of our heart because only a good heart will speak good words. Jesus teaches the same thing as we read in this Sunday's gospel: "The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; the evil man out of his evil treasure brings forth evil: for his mouth expresses that which out of his heart overflows" (Lk 6:45). Our words are the mirror of our heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (91 (92), 2-3. 13-14. 15-16)

Israel accused God of deception in the Sinai desert when dehydration threatened men and animals: the famous episode of Massa and Meriba (Ex 17:1-7).  God, however, proved greater than the wrath of his people: he caused water to spring from a rock. Since then, God has been called our rock as a reminder of his faithfulness, steadier than all the suspicions of the people. From this rock Israel drew the water of its survival... but more importantly, over the centuries, it became the source of its faith and trust. This concept is expressed at the end of the psalm: 'to proclaim how righteous is the Lord, my rock'. In the Garden of Eden story, the cunning serpent manages to convince the progenitors that it is God who is deceiving them. In fact, he misrepresents God's thinking by claiming that he forbids them the best fruits under the guise of protecting them when in fact it is the opposite and Adam and Eve allow themselves to be deceived. Unfortunately, it is a story that repeats itself throughout history and how is it possible to avoid demonic deception? This psalm helps us by suggesting that we should have confidence: "It is good to give thanks to the Lord and to sing to your name, O Most High, to proclaim in the morning your love, your faithfulness through the night". Singing for God is good for man above all, and St Augustine said it clearly: "Everything that man does for God, benefits man and not God." Singing for God, opening our eyes to his love and his faithfulness, day and night, protects us from the wiles of the serpent. Only an unwavering trust in God's love can illuminate man's life in all circumstances, while distrust and suspicion completely distort our view of reality. To be suspicious of God is a deadly trap. He who trusts in God is like an evergreen tree, which always retains its sap and freshness (cf. Psalm 1). To conclude, I note that this psalm bears a heading: 'Psalm for the Sabbath day', the day par excellence on which God's love and faithfulness are sung. One could make this psalm the psalm for Sunday, because for us Sunday is the celebration of God's love and faithfulness, which in Jesus Christ were manifested in a definitive way.  

*Second Reading from the First Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:54-58)

 For several weeks now we have been reading chapter 15 of Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, which is a long reflection on the Resurrection. Today Paul concludes his meditation with a cry of triumph: 'Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ' (v 57). It is the victory of the Resurrection because, as he writes, what is corruptible in us will become incorruptible, what is mortal will clothe immortality (v 53): immortality, incorruptibility are God's prerogatives. Only in this way will we become in the image and likeness of God, according to the original plan announced and realised throughout the Bible's entire itinerary, with humanity's many failures and God's continuous interventions to save his plan of love. In creating humanity, the Lord had the plan to make it happy, united, filled with the Spirit of God, admitted to share in the life of the Trinity. A plan that has never failed and subsists forever because the designs of God's heart endure from generation to generation (cf. Ps 32/33). Human history therefore has meaning, significance and direction. That is, we know where we are going and the years do not all follow one another in the same way, because God has a project, a precise plan. We are oriented towards the future and we wait for this plan to be fulfilled by praying with our Father, that his kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. However, history testifies that humanity is falling short of this plan and people do not seem to cooperate. God respects our freedom and we often seem unwilling to listen to God's voice because it is a project that exceeds our rational perspectives. But why wonder? St Paul says that this project - he calls it the mystery of God's will - exceeds us and is unthinkable for us. Humanity, however, has two choices: accept the project and strive to advance it, or reject it and look elsewhere for our own happiness. Adam is the example of one who refuses and takes another direction, to his own detriment. God, however, remains patient and will save his project by not allowing himself to be discouraged by man's ill will because no one and nothing can extinguish the fire of God's love for us. It is certainly not biological death that separates us from him and our brothers, for we shall rise again, but spiritual death, the consequence of sin. Yet sin too is defeated by Jesus Christ: henceforth, grafted into the risen Christ, we can live like him and with him win the game of love. Indeed, Paul affirms that the victory is already won: contrary to what it seems, death and sin are the great losers and God's plan is saved: Jesus, with the forgiveness given to all, frees us from our sins and, if we want, the door is open to the Holy Spirit. We can then live the love and fraternity for which we are created.

*From the Gospel according to St Luke (6:39-45)

 We find here several instructions from Jesus that are like warnings concerning relationships within the Christian community, recommendations that are also present in the gospels of Matthew and John although in no particular order and proclaimed in different contexts. St Luke grouped them here because he probably saw a link between them and it is precisely this link that we are trying to understand together. To better proceed we divide the text into two parts: the first is a reflection on the gaze, while the second is the metaphor of the tree and the fruit. In the first part, Jesus develops the theme of gaze and begins with an observation: a blind man cannot guide another blind man, and the message is clear: we must be very careful because when we act as guides, we must not forget that we are blind from birth. The apologue of the mote and the beam goes in this direction since with a beam in one's eye, one is truly blind and cannot claim to cure the blindness of others. Between these two observations, Luke inserts a phrase that at first sight seems enigmatic: 'A disciple is no more than the teacher; but everyone who is well prepared will be like his teacher'. The preparation Jesus speaks of is, in a sense, the healing of us who are blind. It is Luke himself who notes that the disciples of Emmaus only began to see clearly when "Jesus opened their minds to the understanding of the Scriptures" (Lk 24:45). Since Jesus came into the world to open the eyes of the blind, his disciples, healed by him from their blindness, also have the mission to bring the light of revelation to the world. This is a very interesting mission, which we can only cope with by always remaining under the light of the Master and letting him heal our blindness. The evangelist then moves without transition to the metaphor of the tree and the fruit, which suggests that the theme is still the same: the true disciple, who allows himself to be enlightened by Jesus Christ, bears good fruit, but he who, on the contrary, does not allow Jesus Christ to enlighten him, remains in his blindness and produces bad fruit. It is now necessary to understand what fruits are involved. Taking into account that the text is after an entire discourse of Jesus on mutual love, we can understand that the fruits are related to our behaviour. The guiding rule is "Be merciful as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:36).  In the first reading we read that the fruit manifests the quality of the tree; similarly, the word reveals the feelings and one should not praise anyone before he has spoken, because it is precisely his word that allows one to judge him. It is truly extraordinary how in a few words Luke has developed the entire Christian mystery: when we allow ourselves to be formed by Christ we are transformed in our whole being: in our gaze, behaviour and language. The fruit of light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth" (Eph 5:8). The first step consists in learning to look at others as God looks at them: with a gaze that does not judge, that does not condemn, that does not take pleasure in pointing out a speck in the other person's eye, that is, in noticing something really tiny. Just as the straw is blown away by the wind and therefore without depth and importance, so too must the faults of others be counted. If Jesus does not give them importance, the disciple well trained in his school will be like his master. Jesus concludes thus: the mouth of the disciple expresses that which overflows from the heart. To become the image of God, the secret is to immerse ourselves in his Word.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

May the Lord bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

7th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C (23 February 2025)

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26,2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 BC. The texts say that "no son of Israel was more handsome than he, and he surpassed from the shoulder upwards anyone else of the people" (1 Sam 9:2). He was a peasant from a simple family in the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. Saul was anointed with oil and bore the title 'messiah'.  After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to seek David" (v. 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  Why does the Bible recount this episode? There are certainly several reasons. Firstly, the sacred author wants to paint a portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, refusing vengeance and understanding that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin by finding some good reason to love some of them. David spares a dangerous enemy because he was, in his time, God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected everywhere because the image of God is marked in him. We are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm is encountered several times in the three liturgical years and we can admire the parallelism of the verses, a kind of alternation of verses that answer each other. It would be good to recite or sing it in two voices, line by line or in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul" ... Second chorus: "May all that is in me bless his holy name" ... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins ... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the blessings, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "He forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not treat us according to our sins nor repay us according to our faults. As far as the east is from the west, so he turns away our faults from us." Several times we have noted this: one of the great discoveries of the Bible is that God is only love and forgiveness. And that is precisely why he is so different from us and constantly surprises us. When the prophet Isaiah says: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, says God; your ways are not my ways" (55:6-8), he invites us to seek the Lord while he is being found, to call upon him while he is near. He invites the ungodly to forsake his way and the perverse man his thoughts, and adds: 'Return to the Lord who will have mercy on him, to our God who graciously forgives' - and adds - 'because my thoughts are not your thoughts'. Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; he will never force us and so we go to him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means accepting to see that person again, to extend our hand to them, to welcome them at our table or in our home anyway; it means risking a smile; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is neither forgetting nor erasing what has happened because nothing will erase it, whether it is good or bad. There are offences that can never be forgotten because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that gives greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. Only in the Messiah fully dwells the very Spirit of God, which guides his every action. To argue, Paul refers to Genesis, in which he reads the vocation of mankind, but does not interpret it historically. For him, Adam is a type of man or, rather, a type of behaviour. This reading may seem unusual to us, but we must get used to reading the creation texts in Genesis not as an account of events, but as accounts of vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not considered an event of the past because the Bible speaks much more of God the Creator than of Creation; it speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The act of creation is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" in the first account (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it" in the second account (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly". And St John observes: 'Beloved, even now we are children of God, but what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We know, however, that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2). The perfect image of God in Jesus Christ, the apostles saw it on the face of Christ during the Transfiguration.

Note: the serpent crawling on the ground tempts mankind (Adam - adam man related to adamah earth, is not the name of a person but indicates the whole of mankind made of earth Gn1,26-27) and the name of the serpent is nahash a word that can mean either serpent or the dragon of Revelation: Gn3,15; Rev 12)

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and you will then be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient, because, as St Peter says, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day (cf. 2 Pet 3:8) and he educates his people with such patience, as we read in Deuteronomy: "As a man corrects his son, so the Lord your God corrects you" (Deut 8:5). This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. Let us take the account of the Garden of Eden: God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures. God had in fact conceived Adam as the king of creation: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, over the cattle, over all the wild beasts, and over all the reptiles that creep upon the earth" (Gen 1:26). And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, that he was superior: "Man gave a name to all the animals, to the birds of the air, and to all the wild beasts; but for man he found no helper to match him" (Gen 2:20). Man did not find his equal. But two chapters later, we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you"... "Love your enemies, do good and lend without hoping for anything in return". And so the ending surprises us a little: up to this point, although it was not easy, at least it was logical. God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and it will be given to you: a good measure, pressed down, shaken and overflowing will be poured into your lap, for with the measure with which you measure, it will be measured to you in return' (Lk 6:37-38). Have we returned to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: in order not to fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken. As for the phrase: "Your reward will be great and you will be children of the Most High", it expresses the wonderment experienced by those who conform to the Christian ideal of meekness and forgiveness. It is the profound transformation that takes place in them: for they have opened the door to the Spirit of God, and he dwells in them and inspires them more and more. Little by little they see the promise formulated by the prophet Ezekiel fulfilled in them: "I will give you a new heart, I will put a new spirit within you; I will take away from you the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." (Ez 36:26).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Summary on request: Short commentary.

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26.2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 B.C. He was a peasant from a simple family of the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the Covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to search for David" (v 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  The sacred author wants to outline the portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, who refuses revenge and understands that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin to find some good reason to love some, and David spares a dangerous enemy because as king he is God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected because we are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm would be good to recite or sing in two voices, in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul"... Second chorus: "Let all that is in me bless his holy name"... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the benefits, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "For he forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our faults... "for my thoughts are not your thoughts". Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; He will never force us and so we go to Him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is not a blank slate. There are offences that can never be forgotten, because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that lends greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. In order to argue, Paul refers to Genesis and sees Adam as a type of behaviour because the creation account in Genesis is not an account of events, but the account of a vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not seen as an event of the past, but speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The creative act is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden that he might cultivate it and keep it" (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly. 

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and then you will be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient and educates his people with such patience. This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures.  And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, superior, and did not find his equal. But next we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says 'Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you'.... God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and you will be given (Lk 6:37-38). Are we perhaps back to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: to not fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken.

+Giovanni D'Ercole