"Contento, Señor, contento!": the smiling face of a contemporary saint, Chilean Alberto Hurtado, who even in difficulties and suffering assures the Lord that he is "happy", contrasted with the "saddened" face of the evangelical "rich young man" in Pope Francis' meditation during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Tuesday 28 February. These are the two ways of responding to the gift and proposal of life that God makes to man and that the Pontiff summed up with an expression: "Everything and nothing".

Francis' homily began with a consideration of the liturgy of these "three last days before Lent" in which the "relationship between God and riches" is presented. In Sunday's gospel, he recalled, "the Lord was clear: one cannot serve God and riches. You cannot serve two masters, two lords: either you serve God or you serve riches'. On Monday, however, "the story of the rich young man was proclaimed, who wanted to follow the Lord but in the end was so rich that he chose riches". A Gospel passage (Mark 10:17-27) emphasised Jesus' warning: "How difficult it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle", and the disciples' reaction "somewhat frightened: "But who can be saved?"".

On Tuesday, the liturgy continued to propose the passage from Mark by examining the reaction of Peter (10:28-31), who says to Jesus: "All right, what about us?". It almost seems, the Pope commented, that Peter with his question - "Behold, we have left everything and followed you. What is our turn?" - was presenting "the bill to the Lord", as in a "business negotiation". In reality, the Pontiff explained, that was probably 'not Peter's intention', who evidently 'did not know what to say: "Yes, this one has left, but what about us?"'. In any case, "Jesus' answer is clear: 'I tell you, there is no one who has left everything without receiving everything'". There are no half-measures: 'Behold, we have left everything', 'You will receive everything'. Instead, there is "that overflowing measure with which God gives his gifts: 'You will receive everything. There is no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mothers or fathers or children or fields for my sake and for the sake of the gospel, who does not already receive a hundred times as much now in this time in homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, fields, and eternal life in the time to come'. Everything'.

This is the answer, said the Pontiff: "The Lord does not know how to give less than everything. When he gives something, he gives himself, which is everything'.

An answer, however, where a word emerges that "makes us reflect". Jesus in fact affirms that one "receives already now in this time a hundred times in houses, brothers together with persecutions". So "everything and nothing". The Pope explained: "Everything on the cross, everything in persecutions, together with persecutions". Because it is a matter of "entering into another way of thinking, another way of acting". In fact "Jesus gives himself everything, because the fullness, the fullness of God is a fullness annihilated on the cross". Here then is the "gift of God: the fullness annihilated". And here then is also "the style of the Christian: to seek the fullness, to receive the annihilated fullness and to follow along that path". Certainly a commitment that "is not easy".

But the Pope, following his meditation, went further and asked himself: "What is the sign, what is the signal that I go ahead in this giving everything and receiving everything?". What is the sign, in short, that one is on the right path? The answer, he said, is found in the first reading of the day (Sirach 35: 1-15), where it is written: "Glorify the Lord with a glad eye. In every offering show thy countenance glad, with joy consecrate thy tithe. Give to the Most High according to the gift you have received from him and with a glad eye according to your will'. Therefore, "contented eyes, glad countenance, joy...". The Pontiff explained: "The sign that we are going on this road of everything and nothing, of fullness annihilated, is joy". It is no coincidence that "the rich young man turned dark in the face and went away saddened". He had not been "able to receive, to welcome this annihilated fullness". Instead, the Pope explained, 'the saints, Peter himself, welcomed it. And in the midst of trials, of difficulties they had a joyful face, a contented eye and a joyful heart. This is the sign'.

And it was at this point that the Pope resorted to an example taken from the life of the contemporary Church: "A little phrase from a saint, Saint Alberto Hurtado, Chilean, comes to mind," he said. He always worked, difficulties behind difficulties, behind difficulties.... He worked for the poor'. He is a saint who 'was persecuted' and had to face 'many sufferings'. But 'when he was right there, crushed on the cross' he would say: 'Happy, Señor, happy, Lord, happy''.May Saint Albert, the Pontiff concluded, "teach us to go on this road, give us the grace to go on this somewhat difficult road of everything and nothing, of the annihilated fullness of Jesus Christ and always say, especially in difficulties: 'Happy, Lord, happy'".

[Pope Francis, in L'Osservatore Romano 01.03.2017]

[15 August 2026]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Responsorial Psalm (44/45) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D’Ercole

From customs with limits to the Spirituality of possessions-Relation

(Mt 19:16-22)

At the time of Jesus, people lived a moment of social collapse and disintegration of the communitarian dimension of life - in the past more related to family, clan and community.

Herod's policy guaranteed the Empire control of the situation: a reality of maximum exploitation and severe economic and civil repression.

Religious impositions even ensured the subjugation of consciences - and the spiritual authorities were happy to act as guarantors of this most covert form of slavery.

The condition of total (civil and religious) subjugation of the people everywhere tended to diminish the sense of interpersonal and group fraternity.

There was no lack of severe conditions of social and cultural exclusion, which accentuated the bewilderment of the people, who were marginalized, homeless and without references - even religious ones.

Some movements attempted to reweave the lacerations and propose shared forms of life, certainly - but united by an idea of nagging decontamination [Essenes, Pharisees, Zealots].

Jesus chooses the path of a decisive vital redemption, as opposed to the ideologies of the ascetic purism and custom rediscovery.

For a radical fulfilment of the spirit of the Law, it was necessary to go beyond doctrines. They excite some, yet they do not erase our inner sense of emptiness.

The community of sons does not keep itself within the 'limits', and does not live apart; thus it does not accentuate the torments of imperfection, or the perception of incompleteness, nor the marginalizations - but welcomes them.

It does not feel endangered by contact with the realities that the external legalism of devotion considered dangerous and cursed or in sin. It trembles for them.

The Church recognises the value of existential poverties: it feels it’s not enough to seek “good things” without 'fire' within.

It confesses the richness not of everything that is already recognizable and static, but of new positions and differing relationships, which dilate the present and open up creative visions of the future.

Faith, in short, is not a popularly identified belief capable of accrediting roles, tasks and characters.

In vv.18-19 Jesus does not enumerate commandments that would make the interlocutor [as they used to say] live 'more from near' to 'God alone', but the criteria that bring us close and alongside our sisters and brothers.

The honour reserved for the Father is not one of many forms of competitive love: the threshold is the neighbour.

The Son does not even mention the first commandments, those identifying the exalted Lord of his people.

Our hands embrace the time-less… in concrete love.

They trigger the dynamisms that annihilate the torments of the least, and thus in an unthinkable way help us rediscover the meaning and joy of life - letting the world be reborn [far more than with the usual forms of insurance].

Conscious living does not have to do with usage and clichés [which produce alibis] but with another serenity and joy: the wonder of the unusual and of new degrees, places, states, relationships, situations.

There is no other richness that can fill our days, while there is only sadness (v.22) in the old bonds without humanity. They lower us all into an artificial mental and emotional reality.

To detach oneself from immediate calculation seems an absurd choice, far-flung and destined to go wrong, but on the contrary, it is the winning move that opens the door to new Life of the Kingdom and to Happiness, which can be accessed precisely when tangible goods are transformed into Relationship.

Let us free ourselves from the plethora of misguided goals that crush our paths, making them swampy.

We have to reflect well on «that which is eminent» (v.17).

To internalize and live the message:

Have you learnt to embrace your life from the Goodness of God, or to be lulled and content with what is there - just within reach?

[Monday 20th wk. in O.T.  August 17, 2026]

From customs with limits to the Spirituality of possessions-Relation

(Mt 19:16-22)

At the time of Jesus, there was a time of social collapse and disintegration of the communitarian dimension of life - in the past more related to family, clan and community.

Herod's policies ensured that the empire controlled the situation: a reality of maximum exploitation and severe economic and civil repression.

Religious impositions even ensured the subjugation of the consciences - and the spiritual authorities were happy to act as guarantors of this most covert form of slavery.

The condition of total (civil and religious) subjugation of the people everywhere tended to diminish the sense of interpersonal and group fraternity.

There was no lack of severe conditions of social and cultural exclusion, which accentuated the bewilderment of the people, who were marginalised, homeless and without references - even religious ones.

Some movements attempted to reweave the lacerations and propose forms of shared life, certainly - but united by an idea of tormenting decontamination [Essenes, Pharisees, Zealots].

Jesus chooses the path of a decisive vital redemption, compared to the ideologies of the rediscovery of ascetic and customary purism, traditionalist nationalist fundamentalist.

For a radical fulfilment of the spirit of the Law, it was necessary to go beyond doctrines. They excite some, yet they do not erase our inner sense of emptiness.

The community of sons does not keep within the 'limits', and does not live apart; thus it does not accentuate the torments of imperfection, or the perception of incompleteness, nor the marginalisations - but welcomes them.

She does not feel endangered by contact with the realities that the external legalism of ancient devotion considered dangerous and cursed or in sin. It trembles for them.

The Church recognises the value of existential poverty: it is not enough to seek 'good things' without 'fire' within.

It confesses the richness not of everything that is already recognisable and static, but of new positions and differing relationships that open up the present and open up creative visions of the future.

Faith, in short, is not a popularly identified belief capable of accrediting roles, tasks and personalities - and their advantages, which everyone should depend on [!]

Nor can the dimension-wealth still rhyme with differentiation-security.

In vv.18-19 Jesus does not enumerate commandments that would make the interlocutor [as they used to say] 'more from near' to 'God alone', but criteria that bring us near and alongside sisters and brothers.

The honour reserved for the Father is not one of many forms of competitive love: the threshold is the neighbour.

The God of religions is a capricious child who demands the big piece of the cake, at snack time: but the Son does not deceive us with the most childish ideas of widespread beliefs.

Nor does he quote the first commandments, identifying the exalted Lord of his people.

Our hands embrace the timeless in concrete love.

They trigger the dynamisms that annihilate the torments of the least, and thus in an unthinkable way help us rediscover the meaning and joy of living - letting the world be reborn, far more than with the usual forms of insurance (sacralising titles and acquired economic levels).

Conscious living has to do not with customs and clichés [that produce alibis] but with another serenity and joy: the wonder of the unusual and of new degrees, places, states, relationships, situations.

There is no other richness that can fill our days, while there is only sadness (v.22) in the old bonds without humanity. They lower us all into an artificial mental and emotional reality.

To detach oneself from immediate calculation seems an absurd choice, out of the blue and destined to go wrong, but it is, on the contrary, the winning move that opens the door to the new Life of the Kingdom and to Happiness, which is accessed precisely when material goods are transformed into Relationship.

We know of no religious discipline that holds [and that can defy time, our emotions].

Only the risk for complete Life - ours, everyone's - acts as a spring to the will and impels full dedication.

The Tao (xiii) says: "To him who values himself for the sake of the world, the world can be entrusted; to him who cares for the sake of the world, the world can be trusted.

And Master Ho-shang Kung comments: "If I did not care for my person, I would have the spontaneity of the Tao in me: I would lightly lift myself up to the clouds, I would go in and out where there are no gaps, I would put the spirit in communication with the Tao. Then what misfortune would I have?".

Let us free ourselves from the plethora of wrong goals, which crush our paths, making them swampy. Let us also reflect well, then, on "that which is worthy" (v.17).To internalise and live the message:

Thanks to spiritual guides, have you learnt to grasp your life from the Goodness of God, or to be lulled and content with what is there?

In the Church, have you found the criterion of Jesus realised, the strong desire for the Goodness of others too, capable of pointing a path? Or more attention to the things of the earth?

One is missing

Inherit the Life of the Eternal

(Mk 10:17-27)

What are we missing, despite our conviction and involvement? Why do we make certain behavioural choices?

Even if we were to devote years of commitment to the spiritual journey in religion, we would find that finally not just the icing on the cake is missing, but the global One.

It is not enough to accentuate or perfect the good things, we need to take a leap; one step (even an alternative step) more is not enough.

Paradoxically, one starts from the perception of an inner wound that stirs (v.17) the search for that Good that unifies and gives meaning to life.

Jesus makes us reflect on what is to be considered "Insignificant" (thus the Greek text: vv.17-18).

It is not a teaching for those who are far away, but for us: "One you lack!" - as if to emphasise: "You lack the All, you have almost nothing!".

Normal life goes on, but the path of trust is lacking. There is no astonishment.

Our going does not consolidate or qualify by adapting to our surroundings, adding heritage to heritage and shunning peccadilloes, or - above all - unknowns.

Too many things are missing: the challenge of the more personal, caring for others, confronting the drama of reality: there is no unity, there is a lack of authentic Presence that launches love into the spirit of adventure.

It is not a matter of having a cue in addition to what we already possess, continuing to be slaves to it (the titles, the capital or the money, which give us orders like masters; they promise, they guarantee, they flatter).

It is not enough to improve on relationship situations that we know by heart, making ourselves approved from the very first step - nor is it enough to merely deepen pious curiosity by satiating the spiritual gluttony.

The transition from religiosity to Faith that brings our vocational destiny and full realisation is played out on a shortage of support - in chaotic systems of correlation.

To be happy is not worth 'normalising' or remaining decent, devout people, because the soul demands the challenge of unexplored skies.

Waters we have not plumbed: sides of ourselves, of others and of reality that we have not brought out, and yet perhaps are not even scrutinising.

We need to venture into the basal and extraordinary stretches that are also calling today; not wait for assurances.

And the starting point can also be the accent of doubt, a healthy restlessness of the soul - the very danger... typical of critical witnesses.

Let us not be silent about our being unsafe, nor about our sense of dissatisfaction with an ordinary, unshaken existence: these are fruitful suspensions, which (when ready) will activate us.

Feeling complete, fulfilled, happy? It is necessary for the eyes and heart to give way, not to be already occupied.

It is absolutely necessary to let go of certainties from the mind and one's own hand.

Gambling is not the maceration of oneself or of the main lines of one's personality - but the reckless investing of everything for another realm, where energies surface, different relationships are explored; one attempts to sublimate possessions into a matrix of life (also others': v.21).

After a sense of incompleteness or even spiritual infirmity has driven us to a rich attunement with the codes of the soul and brought face to face with Jesus (v.17) from Him we understand the secret of Joy.

Our Core remains restless if it does not infuse correspondences that fly over - precisely - the ancient ruler: possessions, which make one stagnate.

Despite the promised guarantees, they remain constipated, meaningless. 

On the contrary, by locking us into dependency they cause us to regress almost into the pre-human - robbing us of the delight of open, self-respecting relationships.

The Deep Roots want to change the vector of the swampy, situated self - 'as it should', well-integrated or self-referential - so that it dilates to include the You and the real whole (vv.28-30).

It is the Birth of the new woman and man, mothers and fathers of humanisation (in a living community, which accepts the conviviality of differences). That which verges on the divine condition.

Capable even of overturning positions (v.31). Eschatological sign and sign of the genuine Church. Nest and true Hearth.

It is Genesis in the authenticity of cosmic energies and inner powers, which are preparing stages of growth - elsewhere.

Gradually we create the warmth and reciprocity of an understanding relationship, the purpose of Love in what we undertake or do again; like the friendly warmth of a non-frigid Presence.

We experience the inebriating distinction from which there is no turning back, because it places us in the very Life of the Eternal (v.17). The One who is missing (v.21).As I strive to question myself or others, previously hidden resources - that I did not even know about - surface.

With amazement, I experience a reality that gradually unfolds... and of the Father who provides for me (v.27).

In such an extension, we learn to recognise the (new decisive) Subject of the spiritual journey: God's Design in being itself.

Dream leading, and despite the travails, the emotional storms, our contortions, it gradually reveals itself to be Resembling.

As innate: forthright, genuine, limpid; irrefutable, flowing.

Inserted in the Community that hears the call to "go out", we move out of the tortuousness of retreats; and here is the Father's hundredfold in everything (vv.28-30).

Except for one thing: we are called to be Brothers, on an equal footing. 

There will be no hundred-to-one of 'fathers' (in the ancient sense), i.e. of conditioning controllers (vv. 29-30) who dictate their track and rhythm, as to subordinates.

Then we will be at our centre, not because we are identified with the role, but rather chiselled in an astonishing way by facets of the Unknown.

A life of attachments or subservience to dirigisme blocks creativity. 

To cling to an idol, to allow oneself to be plagued or intimidated, to anchor oneself in fear of problems or pre-occupations is like creating a dark room.

Feeling programmable, already designed, without a more... suffering ordinary or conformist opinions... excludes the vector of personal Novelty.

Those who allow themselves to be inhibited build an artificial dwelling, which is neither their home nor the tent of the world.

Conceiving that we can foresee global adventures, we shrink, we frighten. We do not grasp what is really ours and others'.

This is what becomes apparent during a process - which becomes holy in the exodus from self and in the quality of creative relationships.

As Pope Francis said in Dublin: 'Docile to the Spirit and not based on tactical plans'.

Under a new and unknown stimulus, it is the new genesis that allows us to shift our attention from calculation to the brightness of the soul, from the brain to the eye, from reasoning to perception.

What am I to "do" (v.17)? Embrace the Gift of difference and difference - even in my own inner faces, not infrequently opposites; complementing.

We transcend the One who is missing, but who reaches us.

We do not manufacture, but receive, 'inherit' (v.17) freely - from the real that presses.

"Where is the Insigne for me?".

To become who we authentically are in the election of our sacred Source, we must surrender ourselves to things, situations, even unusual emotional guests - treating them with dignity, just as they are.

Within this new ancient ground is the secret of that elevation that rises above dilemmas, for each one.

With all its load of stimulating surprises and appeals to flourish in humanising fullness, the Good lies in welcoming something that I do not already know what it is or will be, but It comes.

"The One is missing you!" - and the best way to esteem its contact is a bet, a matrix of being: transforming goods (of all kinds) into life and relationship.

The young man in the Gospel as we know asks Jesus: "What must I do to inherit eternal life?". Today it is not easy to speak about eternal life and eternal realities, because the mentality of our time tells us that nothing is definitive that everything changes, and changes very rapidly. "Change", in many cases, has become the password, the most exalting exercise of freedom, and that is why even you, young people, have often come to think that it is impossible to make definitive choices that would tie you down for the rest of your life. But is this the right way to use your freedom? Is it really true that in order to be happy we should content ourselves with small, transient joys that once they are over leave bitterness in the heart? Dear young people, this is not true freedom nor can true happiness be reached in this way. Not one of us is created to make provisional and revocable choices but rather definitive and irrevocable decisions that give full meaning to our existence. We see it in our lives: we should like every beautiful experience that fills us with happiness never to end. God created us with a view to the "forever", he has placed in the heart of each one of us the seed of a life that can achieve something beautiful and great. Have the courage to make definitive decisions and to live them faithfully! The Lord may call you to marriage, to the priesthood, to the consecrated life, to a special gift of yourselves: answer him generously!

In the dialogue with the young man who possessed many riches Jesus pointed out what was the most important, the greatest treasure in life: love. To love God and to love others with one's whole self. The word love we know it lends itself to many interpretations and has different meanings. We need a Teacher, Christ, to teach us its most authentic and profound meaning, to guide us to the source of love and life. Love is the name of God himself. The Apostle John reminds us: "God is love", and adds, "not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son", and "if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another" (1 Jn 4: 8, 10-11) In the encounter with Christ and in reciprocal love we experience in ourselves the life of God, who abides in us with his perfect, total and eternal love (cf. 1 Jn 4: 12). Therefore there is nothing greater for man a mortal and limited being than to participate in the life of God's love. Today, we live in a cultural context that does not encourage profound and disinterested human relationships; on the contrary, it often induces us to withdraw into ourselves, into individualism, to let selfishness, that exists in people, prevail. But a young person's heart is by nature sensitive to true love. That is why I address each one of you with great confidence in order to say: it is not easy to make something beautiful and great of your life it is demanding, but with Christ, everything is possible!

[Pope Benedict, Meeting with Young People, Turin 2 May 2010]

6. The dialogue of Jesus with the rich young man, related in the nineteenth chapter of Saint Matthew's Gospel, can serve as a useful guide for listening once more in a lively and direct way to his moral teaching: "Then someone came to him and said, 'Teacher, what good must I do to have eternal life?' And he said to him, 'Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments. 'He said to him, 'Which ones?' And Jesus said, 'You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; Honour your father and mother; also, You shall love your neighbour as yourself.' The young man said to him, 'I have kept all these; what do I still lack?' Jesus said to him, 'If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me' " (Mt 19:16-21).

7. "Then someone came to him...". In the young man, whom Matthew's Gospel does not name, we can recognize every person who, consciously or not, approaches Christ the Redeemer of man and questions him about morality. For the young man, the question is not so much about rules to be followed, but about the full meaning of life. This is in fact the aspiration at the heart of every human decision and action, the quiet searching and interior prompting which sets freedom in motion. This question is ultimately an appeal to the absolute Good which attracts us and beckons us; it is the echo of a call from God who is the origin and goal of man's life. Precisely in this perspective the Second Vatican Council called for a renewal of moral theology, so that its teaching would display the lofty vocation which the faithful have received in Christ, the only response fully capable of satisfying the desire of the human heart.

In order to make this "encounter" with Christ possible, God willed his Church. Indeed, the Church "wishes to serve this single end: that each person may be able to find Christ, in order that Christ may walk with each person the path of life".

[Pope John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor nn.6-7 cf. ff.]

The Lord Jesus gives us the fulfilment; he came for this. That man had to come to the brink, where he had to take a decisive leap, where the possibility was presented to stop living for himself, for his own deeds, for his own goods and — precisely because he lacked a full life — to leave everything to follow the Lord. Clearly, in Jesus’ final — immense, wonderful — invitation, there is no proposal of poverty, but of wealth, of the true richness: “You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me” (Mk 10:21).

Being able to choose between an original and a copy, who would choose the copy? Here is the challenge: finding life’s original, not the copy. Jesus does not offer surrogates, but true life, true love, true richness! How will young people be able to follow us in faith if they do not see us choose the original, if they see us adjusting to half measures? It is awful to find half-measure Christians, — allow me the word — ‘dwarf’ Christians; they grow to a certain height and no more; Christians with a miniaturized, closed heart. It is awful to find this. We need the example of someone who invites me to a ‘beyond’, a ‘plus’, to grow a little. Saint Ignatius called it the ‘magis’, “the fire, the fervour of action that rouses us from slumber”.

The path of what is lacking passes through what there is. Jesus did not come to abolish the Law nor the Prophets, but to fulfil. We must start from reality in order to take the leap into ‘what we lack’. We must scrutinize the ordinary in order to open ourselves to the extraordinary.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 13 June 2018]

Crumbs and 'nose', integral parts

(Mt 15:21-28)

Religious law prevented dealing with foreign people and other ethnicities, borders, or culture.

At the beginning, Jesus [that is: He in the first communities, his Mystical Body] seems not to want to occupy himself with it (v.26).

But after helping the crowds and his own intimates to emancipate themselves from the prison of purity norms (vv.10-20), the young Rabbi himself had emerged from the conformist ways of experiencing God.

He makes an Exodus even from national and race territories that at that time were seizing the vital sap of the souls - thus flying over the "sacred" preconceptions.

To make us grow in Faith, Christ promotes the most varied existence. In this way, outside the standard myopia, He can find astounding adherences.

Faith: New Principle, which does not alienate us from ourselves. And crumbles any illusion of exclusivity.

The singular initiatives of the Son are born on the basis of the all-personal experience of the divine, of a Father who bestows unconditionally.

Provident, and unequal from the stingy God of ancient religions: sovereign all discordant from creatures, alien, predatory, and incomprehensibly addicted to habit.

With an unusual stunt, the young Rabbi tries to open the Judaizing mentality, overcoming borders.

Even the dialogue with a woman not of his people was a "novelty" alien to the mentality of the time’s crowds. Initiative foreign even to the conceptions of the first two generations of believers; marked by a creed still blocked and mixed with idols.

But there was a whole people of strangers [the mestizo «Woman» and her spiritual ‘offspring’] who felt they had no future... and this called into question the many aprioriisms of the time.

In short, even the church of Mt had not fully grasped the meaning of the «bread of the sons» - all available, for it to be “recognized”.

Because of rivalry, ancient peoples used to call foreigners with the contemptuous nickname of «dog»: synonymous with impudence, meanness and ignoble baseness.

The Lord's very harsh phrase (v.26) reflects a comparison coming from poor areas and from family life, where once there were plenty of pets and youth.

There was also a difference between ‘children’ generated by listening to the Word of God and those who adjusted themselves “by scent”. But although no one denied sustenance to the «sons» to give it to the «dogs» around them - the latter had at least the right of crumbs fallen on the ground.

For differents and far - even bad-considered - it is not a problem to resort to Jesus in an instinctive way; indeed, even today they would be satisfied with the shatters.

[Unfortunately, not infrequently strangers and difforms are hungrier of the real Manna from Heaven].

Christian community should not lack the nourishment of the body and the food of wisdom for everyone (Mt 14:20-21).

Faith has no nationality, and it is the only immediate language and relationship valid for communication between God and woman and man.

Christ is a sapiential feeds for a free circulation; not a sign to be hindered and kept closed.

To break the Bread is to participate our existence at root; what we have and are. Metre of what we proclaim, believe and practice.

[20th Sunday in O.T. (year A), August 16, 2026]

Crumbs and intuition, integral parts

Mt 15:21–28 (21–37)

Jesus discovered the Father’s will in the events of life. The same was true of the growing awareness of the early communities, which carried significant prejudices with them, at least up to and including the third generation of believers – as attested by the Synoptic Gospels.

Religious law forbade them from engaging with foreigners or people of other ethnicities, nationalities or cultures. At first, Jesus [that is to say: He in the early communities, His mystical Body] seems unwilling to engage with them (v. 26).

But after helping the crowds and his own people to free themselves from the prison of purity laws (vv. 10–20), Christ breaks away from conformist ways of experiencing God.

He even breaks free from national and racial boundaries which, at that time, stifled the life-giving forces – thus transcending sacred preconceptions.

The Son’s unique initiatives spring from his entirely personal experience of the divine, of a Father who is generous in giving unconditionally.

Provident and unlike the miserly God of religions: the latter is at odds with his creatures, alien to them, and (incomprehensibly) bound by habit.

The Lord himself helps us, through his own story, to experience the transcendent even in the most ordinary of lives. Thus, to break free from the contrived doctrinal frameworks that cage existence [territory, customs, ideology, affiliations of various kinds – even ‘internal’ ones].

With an unconventional approach, the young Rabbi seeks to broaden the Judaising mindset, transcending boundaries.

The aim is to help us develop his very own Faith. This Faith, which promoted a rich and varied existence, and which, by stepping outside traditional narrow-mindedness, was thus able to attract astonishing numbers of followers.

No boundary fences, no obstacles… can contain our will to live: we wish to nourish ourselves not with pride (or resistance) but with love that takes risks, unadulterated – and to express ourselves fully.

Even a conversation with a woman who was not of his own people was a ‘concept’ alien to the mindset of the masses of that era – foreign even to the beliefs of the first two generations of believers, who in this respect were still rigid and steeped in idolatry.

But there was a whole people of strangers [the mixed-race ‘woman’ and her spiritual ‘offspring’] who felt they had no future. And this challenged the many preconceived notions of the time.

In short, even the church in Mt had not fully grasped the meaning of the ‘bread of the children’ – everything made available so that it might be ‘recognised’.

Owing to age-old rivalries, the ancient peoples used to refer to foreigners by the derogatory term ‘dog’, synonymous with impudence, pettiness and ignoble baseness.

There was widespread hesitation regarding the sense of human brotherhood – stemming from a primitive outlook [and not only that, in the age of access].

The Lord’s very harsh statement (v. 26) reflects a comparison drawn from poor neighbourhoods and family life, where domestic animals and young people once abounded.

There was, after all, a difference between children brought up by heeding the Word of God and those who acted ‘on instinct’.

But although no one would withhold sustenance from the ‘children’ to give it to the ‘dogs’ around them – the latter at least had a right to the crumbs that fell to the floor.

In fact, the text speaks of ‘little dogs’ [kynaría-kynaríois] as domestic animals loved by very young children, who would readily feed them leftovers during meals.

In a sense, they belonged to the ‘household’.

For those who are different and marginalised – even those looked down upon – it is no problem to turn to Jesus instinctively; indeed, they would be content with the crumbs.

On this basis, within the community of the children, there should be no shortage of physical nourishment and spiritual sustenance for anyone (Mt 14:20–21).

However, the long-standing members, who regarded themselves as entitled members of the family and asserted their rights by virtue of seniority, held a grudge and, at assemblies, insisted that not everyone should be allowed to partake of communion, the Eucharistic host, or the festive gifts of the Kingdom.

But thanks to the call of the Gospels [quite unlike the exaggerated ‘evangelical’ proclamations of the empire or the legions], the dominion of evil was drawing to a close (v. 28).

According to Matthew, there should be no obsession, bondage or preconception that might rob us of our drive for progress and our energy, so that, with the utmost freedom, we may be enabled to work and open ourselves to the needs of others, even pagans (Mt 14:22a).

Thus, within the Jewish-Christian communities of Galilee and Syria, a debate arose concerning the conditions for membership of the community.

What is the position of those converted from paganism? Do they have the right to take part in the breaking of the Bread without first undergoing a process of doctrinal and disciplinary initiation? Is there or is there not a break with the observant tradition?

Matthew reiterates that we have no priority whatsoever: the principle of universal salvation is an attitude of faith, not a right.

The community of the baptised is not authorised to rest on its laurels. The Gospel is open; it transcends the biblical priority of the chosen people.

The reason for any possible exception is tangible love, which has the freedom to yield, and which becomes the sole principle of belonging.

The condition for belonging to the new people of God is faith in the heart, not in blood or in the mind, nor in a discipline that distances us from ourselves, from God and from others.

Faith: a new principle that shatters every illusion of exclusivity.

With the Father, in the Son, it is no longer a matter of mortifying oneself, depending on others, striving and struggling, in order to be able to stand face to face with one another.

Legal purity is insufficient (vv. 1–20); indeed, it is now the person—even one of puzzling origins, once a stranger—who emerges ‘victorious’ from the dialogue with the Lord.

Spousal commitment is to be valued everywhere, by everyone: a foundational Eros that wells up from every soul, and is not bound by conventions. It transcends all particularism.

Of course, it has its own criteria – but they are essential: transparency, freshness, a striving for unity, overcoming constraints and taboos; the value of the person; a secret empathy of energies.

This Gospel passage traces an entire journey of adherence to Christ.

Those who are far away can draw near and even start from the popular – albeit inappropriate – idea that Jesus is the expected ‘Son of David’ (v. 22): a military commander and sovereign who was supposed to take power, subdue the nations, usher in a golden age, fulfil the prescriptions of the Law himself as if he were a Model, and impose their observance on everyone.

The starting point of this journey may be a faint glimmer, a beginning that perhaps does not promise much. Indeed, in this specific instance, it is decidedly confusing: the Master does not reply (v. 23).

The title bestowed upon Him has nothing to do with God, nor does it concern the true Firstborn. He is not a powerful Messiah – a predatory, conventionalised image – but a servant.

It makes no sense whatsoever to ask Him for ‘mercy’ (v. 22)! Indeed – let’s be honest – despite our superficial ritual habits, here Christ actually seems quite angry (v. 23).

This is not a healthy relationship with the Lord: He does not punish, nor does He take pleasure in being implored by the needy.

Rather, he teaches as a friend, brother or parent would; and he does not grant favours by lottery, nor miracles out of sympathy or protection, nor favours based on territory – as the pagan gods do.

That image is completely misguided, but it is a false figure that emerges precisely from the ‘insiders’ (vv. 23–24), who would have nothing to object to on the matter (v. 23) .

Indeed, their own catechesis is the very source of it: the title ‘son of David’ sounds strange when uttered by a pagan.

Even today, this paternalistic, homogenising idea – of instilled guilt – tends to alienate those seeking a kind travelling companion.

Jesus recognises the priority given to ‘Israel’ because it is precisely the elder sons who must convert to a new Face of the first God of Sinai – still regarded as Lawgiver and Judge, rather than as the Creator and Redeemer of our intellect and freedom.

[Although in a good-natured, childlike way, they unfortunately continue to propagate this image of Him as a stern notary, right from the pre-catechism stage] .

Jesus distances himself from those who make demands whilst at the same time diverting the souls of the needy who seek him.

Furthermore, in spiritual terms, no one can lay claim to anything: the truly sacred Gifts do not stem from any relationship of selective election, nor even from patronage [of the buy-and-sell variety].

So, to become close to Christ… can one be content with the Eucharistic ‘crumbs’ – that is, ‘minimal salvation’?

Can one feel satisfied with mere crumbs that fall from the table of the self-important, trapped in their narrow-minded ways (vv. 26–27)?

Certainly, for it is Faith that saves (v. 28), not a grand gesture or a long-standing practice in the disciplines of the mystical – nor a code of purity.

The true Lord says only:

‘Woman, your faith is great! Let it be done for you as you wish’ (v. 28) – that is, go ahead and embrace the joy of a full life, one that can be passed on to ‘offspring’ not destined for torment or premature death.

And no longer burdened by the judgement of others, with its usual deceptive flaws, such as feelings of inadequacy.

Thanks to Him, we are not drawn into a superficial religious practice, but into a Relationship that is shaped over time (vv. 22–28).

How do we find our way?

Instead of the strict Law, it is the Gospel that fully empowers us.

As if we were ‘little dogs’ (vv. 26–27) seeking life and nourishment, proceeding instinctively [by ‘scent’] along unexplored paths. And who, according to their character, inclination, and Calling by Name, appeal to other secret forces.

In short, all people – even if they are still far from an explicit commitment of faith – are imbued with this knowledge, which is at once personal and primordial, and which guides them immediately and infallibly.

So, in simplicity, we too shall do the same, to find the Way.

Indeed, Faith has no nationality, and is the only valid language, relationship and path for communication between God and both woman and man.

The proposal is universal; it transcends time, denominational and even religious boundaries.

Commenting on the Tao Te Ching (LVIII), Master Wang Pi states:

‘ He who governs well has neither form nor name; he does not initiate administrations. The various categories divide and separate; this is why the people are fragmented.’

Master Ho-shang Kung adds:

‘When the ruler is liberal, the people are united in wealth and contentment: people love one another and get on well together.’

Today, it is a matter of sharing the crumbs and fragments of that ‘something extra’ which we in the West have inherited from past generations.

A very instructive and comfortable ‘something extra’; bestowed in superabundance, yet received without ‘too much of anything’ [ne quid nimis] nor too many merits or risks (from ‘good Christians...’).

And all the while respecting the hierarchy of veterans, cliques and the powerful – who are always rather reluctant to live together in genuine harmony.

Christ, on the other hand, is wisdom-filled nourishment for free circulation; not food that is withheld, to be kept locked away in tabernacles.

His virtue is now understood only outside the sacristies – by those far off and remote (vv. 21–22) – where even a crumb of Bread instils trust and brings new life through sharing.

To break the Eucharist, which is both source and summit, is to proclaim it a Gift not to be withheld or kept intact, but rather to be displayed and distributed without prior moralising.

To share that Food is to participate in the very root of existence, in what we have and what we are; it is the measure of what we proclaim, believe and practise.

Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for outsiders and those who are different to be more hungry for the true Manna from Heaven.

Sated to the point of nausea – and perhaps still unable to grasp its meaning – why should we experience this shared Nourishment [perhaps with little regard for its significance] as a problem and a source of fear?

To internalise and live out the message:

If they are not part of ‘your own people’, are you at least willing to speak to them – even if veterans, internal circles and the establishment forbid it?

Don’t you think the synodal journey is a good opportunity to reconsider abstract positions?

Do you know of any small church community that leaves no room for outsiders?

Do you know people hurt by exclusion? What do you do – remain silent in acquiescence?

Multiplication through Division, on the journey

The simple (Eucharistic) Mystery

(Mt 15:29–37)

‘Man is the being of limits who has no limits’ (Fratelli Tutti, no. 150).

In our hearts we have a great longing for fulfilment and happiness. The Father has placed it there; He Himself fulfils it – but He wants us to be partners in His work – both within and outside ourselves.

The Son reflects God’s plan in his compassion for the crowds in need of everything (vv. 30, 32) and – despite the plethora of teachers and experts – devoid of any authentic teaching [cf. Mt 9:36, 14:14].

His solution is very different from that of all ‘spiritual’ guides, because He does not gloss over our plight with an indirect paternalism [cf. Mt 14:16] that wipes away tears, heals wounds or erases humiliations.

He invites us to make use, in our own person, of what we are and what we have, even though it may seem ridiculous. Yet he teaches quite unequivocally that by channelling our energies, we can achieve marvellous results.

Thus we respond in Christ to the world’s great problems: by reclaiming the condition of the ‘homo viator’ – a being on a journey, his essential nature – and by sharing our goods; not by leaving everyone to fend for themselves [cf. Mt 14:15].

Our true vulnerability, the trials and tribulations, and the experiences of our many brothers and sisters—in all their diversity—are resources not to be viewed with suspicion, ‘as competitors or dangerous enemies’ of our fulfilment (FT no. 151).

Not only will the little we carry be enough to satisfy us: there will be enough left over for others, and with the same fullness of truth—human and epoch-making [vv. 34, 37: the passage emphasises the Semitic symbolism of the number ‘seven’].

In Matthew, Jesus is the new Moses who ascends ‘the Mountain’ of authentic relationships – to usher in an alternative Time, which marks true history.

The people no longer remain in the valley below waiting: they gather around Him, coming just as they are, bearing the burden of their many different needs.

God’s new people are not a stationary crowd of the elect, the chosen and the pure.

Each person brings with them their own journey, their own worries and problems, which the Lord heals – not by imposing a solution from above or from outside.

In short: another world is possible, but only by breaking one’s own (even meagre) bread.

A wise, unbroken and effective solution, if it is allowed to emerge from within, whilst on the journey and whilst being in the midst – not in front, not at the head, not on high (v. 36).

The place of God’s Revelation was to be one of thunderbolts, on a ‘mountain’ smoking as if from a furnace (Ex 19:18)... but in the end even Elijah’s violent zeal had to be reconsidered (1 Kgs 19:12).

Even to the pagans, the Son reveals a Father who does not simply remove infirmities: he helps them to understand these as a place that is preparing the way for personal growth, and that of the Community.

It was imagined that in the time of the Messiah, the lame, the deaf and the blind would disappear (Isaiah 35:5ff.). A golden age: everything at the summit, no abyss.

In Jesus – the Bread that is shared – an unusual fullness of time is revealed, seemingly nebulous and fragile, yet real and capable of revitalising people and relationships.

The Spirit of God does not act by descending like a bolt of lightning from on high, but rather by activating within us capacities that appear intangible, yet capable of gathering together our scattered being—deemed insubstantial, which encompasses the sum total of our daily lives—and re-evaluating it.

The Incarnation weaves our hearts anew, in dignity and fulfilment; it truly unfolds, for it not only sweeps away obstacles but rests upon them.

And it does not erase them at all: thus it transcends them, yet by transforming them – breathing new life into them.

Life-giving sap that draws nourishment and brings forth flowers from the very same muddy yet fertile soil, and shares them with us.

A solidarity to which everyone is invited, not just those deemed to be in a state of perfection and wholeness.

Our shortcomings make us attentive and unique. They are not to be despised, but rather embraced, placed in the hands of the Son and revitalised (v. 36).

Our very failures can be a precious sign: in Christ, they are no longer demeaning humiliations, but rather signposts along the way. Perhaps we are not making the best use of our resources or investing them wisely.

Thus, setbacks can quickly be transformed into new ascents – different, not pre-packaged – and a quest for total fulfilment in Communion.

Therefore, in the ideal of realising our Vocation and discerning the kind of contribution to offer, there is nothing better than a vibrant environment that does not clip our wings: a fraternity alive with exchange and shared living.

Not so much to cushion us from the jolts, but so that we may be enabled to build reservoirs of wisdom unbound by categorisations – from which everyone can draw, even those who are different and far removed from us.

And if, even here, a shortcoming should come our way, it will be to teach us to be present in the world in (perhaps) other and further directions, or to bring forth our mission and creative maturation – not to remain fixated on partialities and minutiae.

The allusion to the seven loaves (multiplied because they were shared) reinforces the references to the malleable substance of biblical icons.

Here, Moses and Elijah on ‘the Mount’: figures from the five Books of the Pentateuch (the first Nourishments), plus the two sections of the Prophets and the Writings.

All together, ‘seven loaves’: an abundance of nourishment and wisdom for the soul, called to move beyond the surrounding hedges, breaking through the barriers of a mindset enslaved to its immediate surroundings.

This is the basic nourishment of the human-divine spirit, to which, however, is added a fresh and youthful accompaniment, which indeed draws us in (v. 34).

[As St Augustine said: ‘The Word of God, which is explained to you every day and, in a certain sense, “broken”, is itself Daily Bread’ (Sermo 58, IV: PL 38,395)] .

Complete nourishment: staple food and ‘accompaniment’ – historical and ideal, in principle and in practice.

Here, in Christ, we become a living, dynamic body of witnesses (and Scriptures!) that is sensitive to the world.

Admittedly limited, not yet fully realised – and devoid of heroic feats, yet markedly wise and practical.

Proclaimers and sharers, without sensational proclamations of self-sufficiency.

Never confined within archaic boundaries: always a work in progress – and thus able to perceive unknown paths.

And ‘breaking the Bread’… that is, taking action, moving forward, sharing what little we have – to nourish, to overflow (multiplying God’s listening and action) and to help even the desperate regain their self-respect.

We are children: like a few small fish (v. 34), but ones who do not wallow in competitions that make life toxic.

On the contrary: we are personally called to write a unique, empathetic and sacred Word-event.

As infants in the Lord, we swim in this different Water. At times, perhaps, outwardly veiled or muddy and turbid…

Ultimately made transparent simply because it is yielding, compassionate (v. 32) and benevolent.

The old, exclusive puddle of religion that does not dare to take the risk of Faith (v. 33) would not have helped us to take on board the message of Jesus the Messiah, Son of God, Saviour – an acrostic of the Greek term Ichtys [fish].

He is the Father’s Initiative-Response, a support on the (not particularly ethereal) journey in search of the Hope of the poor – of all of us who are destitute and waiting.

Active Faith therefore has as its emblem the Eucharist, a revolution in sacredness. It seems strange to us who have become accustomed to it.

Indeed, the aim of evangelisation is to participate in and liberate the whole person from everything that threatens them, not only in extreme circumstances: but also in their everyday actions – to the point of seeking the sharing of goods.

In Mark (7:31–37), the miracle is placed after the ‘opening of the senses’. Here, it follows the healings by the Sea of Galilee (vv. 29–31).

The Sign, which is both the Source and the Culmination of the community of children, is a creative gesture that demands a shift in perspective, an entirely new way of seeing.

Faced with the destitution of many – caused by the greed of a few – the attitude of the authentic Church does not content itself with emblems and pious platitudes, nor with partial calls to distinguish itself through almsgiving.

The breaking of the Bread takes the place of the Manna sent down from on high in the desert (Mt 15:33) and entails its distribution – not merely in specific situations.

We must not be content merely to multiply life for all.

This is the attitude of the living Body of the miracle-working Christ [not the miracle-worker] who feels called to take action in every circumstance.

If participation in the Eucharist does not merely give rise to occasional almsgiving, outward piety and perfunctory charity, here is the Result:

Women and men will eat, they will be satisfied, and there will be food left over for others still (not all those invited by God are yet present...).

We note that it had not even crossed the disciples’ minds that the solution might come from the people themselves and from their spirit.

Not merely from the paternalism of the leaders, or from some individual benefactor.

An unexpected solution: the question of food is resolved not from above, but from within the people themselves and with the few loaves they had brought with them.

There is no solution in the verb ‘to multiply’ – that is, ‘to increase’… relationships that matter, to increase wealth, to hoard cunning.

The only remedy is ‘to break’, ‘to give’, ‘to hand out’ (v. 36). And everyone is involved; no one is given preferential treatment.

At that time, competitiveness and class-based thinking characterised the society of the empire – and were already beginning to seep into the small community, still in its infancy.

As if the Lord and the God of self-interest could still coexist side by side.

It is the fellowship of the needy that, on the contrary, takes centre stage in the unpretentious Church.

Genuine sharing acts as a teacher to the ever-present veterans—worldly-wise and pretentious—who are the only ones still in need of conversion.

The seed of their ‘endurance’ should lie not in high status or role, but in love.

Such is the sole meaning of sacred gestures; not other schemes tainted by abuse of power or by a desire to appear important.

Those who ‘belong’ are left dumbfounded.

For the Lord, those who are far away (though still wavering in their choices) are full participants in the messianic banquet – without exclusions, nor the mysteries of the arcane with their nerve-wracking expectations.

Conversely, that Table calls out in favour of others who have yet to be called. For a sort of restoration of the original Unity.

In short, Redemption does not belong to the elites concerned with the stability of their rule – which it is, in fact, the weak who must uphold.

The life of the saved comes to us through incorporation.

To internalise and live out the message:

Have you ever broken your bread, shared joy and brought about reconciliations that renew relationships, lifting up people who lack even self-esteem? Or have you favoured indifference, constraints and elitist attitudes?