Fullness of small and beautiful works, not petty and childish

(Mt 5:13-16)

"Beautiful works" [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of selflessness, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, and cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v. 16) indicates - beyond abilities and circumstances - our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

The theme of the passage is that of fidelity which integrates and overcomes inconstancy - and the need to seal love with risk, which makes us authentic [last Beatitude: vv.10-12].

The Lord has surprising trust, because his plan is to become the flavour and fundamental orientation of human history - not only 'in favour of all', but for each one (even those considered insignificant).

Of course, only Jesus is the liturgical Amen: icon of fulfilled humanity, consistency of dedication, the Yes and the definitiveness of the Promises.

But his story has always been contrary to the prevailing mentality.

Therefore, even we - perhaps "seen" as inadequate - can embody a path where the Gospel arises not only as something common, and therefore "halfway", but as something unique and definitive.

We each have an irreplaceable role in moments of disruption and Exodus.

We are legitimised without conditions.

God has respect for shortcomings and missing functions: who knows what blessed new things they hide and are preparing.

In his commentary on the Tao (ii), Master Ho-shang Kung states:

"The original chi gives life to all creatures and does not appropriate it," that is, it does not return, it does not confer the old, backward and fixed order. It does not run for cover; rather, it gives a charge - not partial, but vital and illuminating.

Of course, it is precisely in consumer goods that constant change lies: this confuses the conventional religious idea.

But the fact that our Vocation is to be and become ever more a Source of Life like the Father, and signs of the Covenant between Heaven and earth (with equal dignity to the Son), values every little divine element in us, or that we promote in our brothers and sisters.

We cannot escape our essence, and we do so with passion - not out of a rigid determination to 'be' 'salt' and 'light' according to opinion.

Thus, instead of yearning to return to functioning like everyone else or as before, we will begin to respect our own and others' retreats of the soul.

In its pauses and questions of meaning, it is nurturing the future of the Kingdom.

In Jesus' time, flames were obtained from fats: blowing out a lamp meant filling the house with nauseating miasmas. 

This is what happens in a voluntaristic and inattentive Church, when there is an excess of dirigisme that does not respect the unique dignity of vocation, which is replaced by manners.

Every blade of grass makes its own distinct contribution to making the field green; this does not make it feel constrained - nor can it be extinguished or reduced by a pretentious and ostentatious context that would risk altering it.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but it is entirely personal: it would be futile to attenuate their aroma by adding ordinary cream, which sweetens various dishes (but makes them all taste the same). Or cotton candy, more suited to festivals of castagnole, castanets and firecrackers, and variety shows.

Their 'salt' combats the insignificance of vain hopes or those of others (bechamel sauce of appearances). It introduces an internal and savoury wisdom into the world of side dishes, salads, carousels and insipidities.

Children look far away, but they stay with the 'pasta'... remaining a living reminder: between God and man [who is himself even in brotherhood] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, 'Light' is that which does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

This means that, without too many compliments, spiritual discernment must be torn from the clutches of those who, out of quietism and a desire not to cause trouble for those complacent with power, mitigate and adapt, indeed hide the Gospel - turning it into a lullaby.

The parallel passage in Luke 11:33 gives thought to the reception of pagans: to make 'light' for those who enter the House.

Matthew is primarily concerned with those who already dwell there: whose specific weight and life of relationships based on the conviviality of differences must become Light in itself - to allow everyone to understand the difference between the seeds of death and the tracks of complete Life.

The Israelites considered themselves the 'Light of the world' because of their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

A great Roman parish priest told me that one of the things that struck him on his travels in the USA was seeing too many Catholic citadels on top of hills, clearly visible to the eye but equally clearly equipped with everything - therefore detached, able to provide for themselves, closed to confrontation with today's real urban life.

This is diametrically opposed to the approach of many evangelical communities, which are less ostentatious and do not seek to attract people with their external beauty. They are mixed into the fabric of the city, and for this reason they are able to shed light on the daily lives of people seeking a personal and real relationship with God the Father.

For Jesus, the faithful and the community are 'Light' because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

He remains the slain Lamb who becomes food for all, and does not give the impression of magnificence or clamour; he does not shut himself up in fortresses, nor does he terrify.

The disciple and the Assembly are 'Salt' because they appear in the world in all circumstances as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin sapĕre, to have taste].

We are called to make ourselves a sign of a new Covenant, because the unexpected Relationship of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

Christ replaces the ancient demands for purification with those of full brotherhood, which, in valuing every person, gives taste and (precisely) flavour, and becomes a lamp for our steps.

This 'second Covenant' does not crush the believing people. 

The inclination to unravel our own evolution, becoming protagonists in the Name of the New Agreement, will transmit illumination and fragrance to the journey.

In this way, we will allow ourselves to be shaped, yielding to our Core that wants to grow, express itself, and give space to the sides that are still in shadow.

These are signs of a Father who recovers and infuses direction into the individual path and that of the Churches - not from outside, but starting from our roots and like a leaven.

We become living Beauty thanks to an activity that, though imperfect, has an influence on flowering from within.

In this way, we preserve people from the decay of dehumanisation and corruption - like 'salt' with food.

In fact, if not properly understood thanks to the qualitative leap of Faith-love, even religious sense can channel women and men into a thousand streams of cunning...

Towards a decomposition of wisdom, and hasty, disembodied, insipid schematics - as well as, unfortunately, indistinct fog.

'Salt and Light' are every little divine element already within us. Thus, any effort towards beauty, solidity and variety will not be lost - even if reduced and diminished: it has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Of course, even in traditional religion, the value of small things is not denied, but they remain small and fixed - without leaps.

In a climate where 'Ne quid nimis' [nothing excessive] prevails, the basic conditions all seem designed to confirm the system of things and roles.

The cloak of customs weakens the peaks, relegates the personalities of simple people to narrow, insignificant spheres, which urge them to invest their energy in vacuous, childish aspects.

The idiocy of certain details is always there, stifling evolution.

In Fede's experience, we do not despise even the slightest contribution to the construction of an alternative kingdom to the current one - sometimes unifying, but based on nonsense and catwalks in obvious disrepair, and stench.

Our candles can continue to dispel the darkness, but only until we place them under a 'bushel' (v. 15), that is, until we give up, putting them under a slavish 'measure' - which is not the different, propulsive and always new measure of the Beatitudes.

In Christ, we are guided to an evolutionary leap: we are the Sapidità pur minuta delle cose (the tiny Sapidità of things), and we are limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited, nor small and 'baby'.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a kingdom of personal Flavour and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure takes the form of a New Covenant between the soul, reality, the global and local world, the signs of the times and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

The salt gone mad of religion without Faith: treating ourselves as sick people

(Mt 5:13)

One of the possible translations from Greek of the expression in verse 13 [perhaps the most plausible] is: 'if the salt goes mad'.

Why does it go mad? It refers to personal harmony with the divine Covenant that dwells within us and to which we do not want to give space, even though it would be truly fulfilling.

All this because we are accustomed to living and feeding on external attitudes.

The Covenant would like to guide our little boat even in this time of departure from the tragedies that are blocking the world, but this is made difficult by the recitation of scripts - by what 'must be done' according to previous ideas and routine.

This is the same expression in Matthew 5:13 of the 'foolish' man (Matthew 7:26) who builds his house not on the Rock [of Freedom, which coincides with his Calling].

He also 'builds' impressive realities, but on unstable elements that are sometimes fragile, lacking in substance - therefore without a solid foundation. Rather, they are the reflection of handed-down thoughts, or of calculation and fantasy; excessively sophisticated.This is also the age-old disconnect between ritual devotion and concrete life, which the Christian community unfortunately sometimes demonstrates in the face of a world that expects answers to needs that touch it and urgent hopes (not those of a 'flock' that we do not like at all).

Instead, here and there, there is a desire to rebuild everything as it 'should be' and as it was before... In this way, we would continue carefree in pursuit of things that are now useless, neglecting the new reality and the essence of character.

Embryonic and genuine inclinations that would like to give weight to hidden resources, embedded in our cosmic being as creatures and in our most fragrant personal tendencies.

Internal powers that unblock situations.

The behaviour of those who have become accustomed to listening - and yearn not to celebrate the Presence of the Lord and live their faith intensely, but to return to 'mass' and to the old containers - should not be so blatantly empty, duplicitous, formal and disinterested; so openly contradictory to the authentic Call, which the believer himself emphatically proclaims to believe in.

There is a Mystery to follow, which is leading to a different kind of uniqueness. And it wants to draw alternative life - truly our own - precisely from the wounds inflicted.

Nothing to be done: the underlying lacerations remain firmly in place - those caused by those who would like to engage in critical witness, but do not rise again in unique opportunities... and find themselves constantly prey to constructed ideas, instead of being inspired (and in their intelligent energy).

In the expression 'salt going mad', the author evokes a sort of radical inner division, characteristic of the personal soul and the unknown Elsewhere that we would finally be called upon to welcome, instead of opposing.

The Secret that lurks in the present, in fact, can end up being trampled by external factors, such as institutional expectations, which leave no room for the revolution of habits and goals.

One example among many is the precious tradition of building a prayer corner in every home.

Even in our spiritual life, we often want to be like the devout models we have in mind, or stronger (perhaps to resemble our guides).

These are thoughts that neither convince nor inspire the heart. In reality, they become vocational blocks, inhibiting the primordial virtue that belongs to us - if convincing, it would move us further.

Christ calls us to acknowledge our unfettered uniqueness and unpredictable eccentricity - the only factor for recovery.

Exceptionality that for Him is not a disturbance, but an authentic resource.

We do not know how He will guide us or where He will lead us; what new eras (which will open up Other things, and we do not know what) He will allow us to enjoy as we proceed in the adventure of the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

This is the profound experimental difference between religiosity and Faith.

The latter corresponds to us because it is lovable in its intimacy. It does not take a pessimistic view of the tide of life.

It focuses on the innate perfection of our ways of being, however singular and unexpected.

In short:

We are not people who need to be cured. In terms of vocation, each of us is already mysteriously gifted and perfect.

By seriously entrusting ourselves to the Call by Name instead of to identifications that plagiarise and leave us brooding in vain, we will reach the fullness of being.

The golden age will coincide with the time of experiences that make us feel completely alive.

Even moments of emptiness will serve to regenerate us and shift our perspective. We will realise that nothing is missing.

Instead, by entrusting our lives to the narrow-minded idea of perfection and old situations to be regained, multiplying resolutions with expectations that do not concern us, we will only succeed in shattering ourselves.

In this way, we will never feel satisfied with the growth of the sense of immensity in our being and particular development.

The great Models (which ultimately betray us) force us to criticise and chase after things, treating ourselves as if we were sick, full of inner turmoil and mental torment.

It is the madness of the obvious, which through conformist quietude or a crazy expenditure of energy promises to take possession of who knows what, but does not make the germinal leap of the life of Faith.

Spousal trust and a creative gesture that wants to welcome everything: states of unease, aspects in the shadows, rising tides - and expand Happiness.

Lumen Fidei

1. The light of faith: with this expression, the tradition of the Church has indicated the great gift brought by Jesus, who, in the Gospel of John, presents himself thus: 'I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness' (Jn 12:46). St. Paul also expresses it in these terms: "And God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts" (2 Cor 4:6). In the pagan world, hungry for light, the cult of the sun god, Sol invictus, invoked at sunrise, had developed. Even though the sun rose every day, it was well understood that it was incapable of radiating its light over the whole of human existence. The sun, in fact, does not illuminate all of reality; its rays are incapable of reaching the shadow of death, where the human eye is closed to its light. "Because of their faith in the sun," says St Justin Martyr, "no one has ever been seen ready to die." Aware of the great horizon that faith opened up for them, Christians called Christ the true sun, "whose rays give life." To Martha, who weeps for the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus says, "Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40). Those who believe see; they see with a light that illuminates the entire path, because it comes to us from the risen Christ, the morning star that never sets.

An illusory light?

2. Yet, when we speak of this light of faith, we can hear the objection of many of our contemporaries. In modern times, it was thought that such a light might have been sufficient for ancient societies, but that it was no longer needed in the new era, for a man who had become adult, proud of his reason, eager to explore the future in a new way. In this sense, faith appeared to be an illusory light, preventing man from cultivating the audacity of knowledge. The young Nietzsche invited his sister Elisabeth to take risks, to follow 'new paths... in the uncertainty of independent progress'. He added: 'At this point, the paths of humanity diverge: if you want to achieve peace of mind and happiness, have faith, but if you want to be a disciple of truth, then investigate'. Believing would be opposed to seeking. From this point onwards, Nietzsche developed his critique of Christianity for diminishing the significance of human existence, robbing life of novelty and adventure. Faith would then be like an illusion of light that prevents us from walking freely towards tomorrow.

3. In this process, faith ended up being associated with darkness. It was thought that it could be preserved, that a space could be found for it to coexist with the light of reason. The space for faith opened up where reason could not illuminate, where man could no longer have certainties. Faith was then understood as a leap into the void that we take because of a lack of light, driven by blind sentiment; or as a subjective light, perhaps capable of warming the heart and bringing private consolation, but which cannot be offered to others as an objective and common light to illuminate the path. Little by little, however, it became clear that the light of autonomous reason cannot sufficiently illuminate the future; in the end, it remains in darkness and leaves man in fear of the unknown. And so man gave up the search for a great light, for a great truth, contenting himself with small lights that illuminate the brief moment but are incapable of lighting the way. When light is lacking, everything becomes confused; it is impossible to distinguish good from evil, the road that leads to the goal from the one that makes us walk in repetitive circles, without direction.

A light to be rediscovered

4. It is therefore urgent to recover the light-giving character of faith, because when its flame is extinguished, all other lights lose their power. The light of faith has a unique character, being capable of illuminating the whole of human existence. For a light to be so powerful, it cannot come from ourselves; it must come from a more original source; it must come, ultimately, from God. Faith is born in an encounter with the living God, who calls us and reveals his love to us, a love that precedes us and on which we can rely to be steadfast and build our lives. Transformed by this love, we receive new eyes, we experience that there is a great promise of fulfilment in it, and the future opens up before us. Faith, which we receive from God as a supernatural gift, appears as a light for our path, a light that guides our journey through time. On the one hand, it comes from the past; it is the light of a fundamental memory, that of the life of Jesus, where his love was revealed as completely trustworthy, capable of conquering death. At the same time, however, since Christ is risen and draws us beyond death, faith is light that comes from the future, opening up great horizons before us and leading us beyond our isolated 'I' towards the vastness of communion. We understand, then, that faith does not dwell in darkness; that it is a light for our darkness. Dante, in the Divine Comedy, after confessing his faith before St Peter, describes it as a "spark, / which expands into a lively flame / and like a star in the sky, it sparkles within me". It is precisely this light of faith that I would like to talk about, so that it may grow to illuminate the present and become a star that shows us the horizons of our journey, at a time when humanity is particularly in need of light.

(Lumen Fidei)

In all churches, cathedrals and convents, wherever the faithful gather for the celebration of the Easter Vigil, the holiest of all nights is inaugurated with the lighting of the Easter candle, whose light is then passed on to all those present. A tiny flame radiates into many lights and illuminates the house of God in the darkness. In this wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in this vigil of prayer, the mystery of our Christian faith is revealed to us through signs more eloquent than words. Christ, who says of himself, "I am the light of the world" (Jn 8:12), makes our lives shine so that what we have just heard in the Gospel may be true: "You are the light of the world" (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our time that bring light into this world. Time and again, we experience that our efforts to create a better and more just world have their limits. The suffering of the innocent and, ultimately, the death of every human being constitute an impenetrable darkness that can perhaps be illuminated for a moment by new experiences, like a flash of lightning in the night. In the end, however, a distressing darkness remains.
There may be darkness and gloom around us, and yet we see a light: a small flame, tiny, that is stronger than the darkness that seems so powerful and insurmountable. Christ, who rose from the dead, shines in this world, and he does so most clearly precisely where, according to human judgement, everything seems dark and hopeless. He has conquered death – He lives – and faith in Him penetrates like a small light all that is dark and threatening. Those who believe in Jesus certainly do not always see only sunshine in life, as if they were spared suffering and difficulties, but there is always a clear light that shows them the way, the way that leads to life in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see a light even in the darkest night and already see the dawn of a new day.
The light does not remain alone. Other lights come on all around. Under their rays, the contours of the environment take shape so that we can find our way. We do not live alone in the world. Especially in the important things in life, we need other people. Thus, in a special way, in faith we are not alone; we are links in the great chain of believers. No one comes to believe unless they are supported by the faith of others, and, on the other hand, with my faith I help to confirm others in their faith. We help each other to be examples to one another, we share with others what is ours, our thoughts, our actions, our affection. And we help each other to find our way, to find our place in society.
Dear friends, 'I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world', says the Lord. It is a mysterious and wonderful thing that Jesus says the same thing about himself and about all of us together, namely, that we are 'light'. If we believe that He is the Son of God who healed the sick and raised the dead, indeed, that He Himself rose from the tomb and truly lives, then we understand that He is the light, the source of all light in this world. We, on the other hand, experience again and again the failure of our efforts and our personal mistakes despite our good intentions. The world in which we live, despite technical progress, does not ultimately seem to be getting any better. There are still wars, terror, hunger and disease, extreme poverty and merciless oppression. And even those who throughout history have considered themselves "bearers of light", without however being enlightened by Christ, the only true light, have not created any earthly paradise, but have established dictatorships and totalitarian systems in which even the smallest spark of humanism has been suffocated.
At this point, we must not remain silent about the fact that evil exists. We see it in many places in this world, but we also see it – and this frightens us – in our own lives. Yes, in our own hearts there is a tendency towards evil, selfishness, envy and aggression. With a certain amount of self-discipline, this can perhaps be controlled to some extent. It is more difficult, however, with forms of evil that are rather hidden, which can envelop us like a vague fog, and these are laziness, slowness in wanting and doing good. Repeatedly throughout history, attentive people have pointed out that the damage to the Church does not come from its adversaries, but from lukewarm Christians. "You are the light of the world": only Christ can say "I am the light of the world". We are all light only if we are in this "you", which, starting from the Lord, becomes light again and again. And just as the Lord warns that salt can become insipid, so too in his words about light he included a gentle warning. Instead of putting the light on the lampstand, it can be covered with a bushel. Let us ask ourselves: how often do we cover God's light with our inertia, with our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine through us into the world?
Dear friends, in many of his letters, the Apostle Saint Paul is not afraid to call his contemporaries, the members of local communities, "saints". Here it becomes clear that every baptised person — even before they can do good works — is sanctified by God. In Baptism, the Lord kindles, so to speak, a light in our lives, a light that the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who preserve this light, those who live in grace, are holy.
Dear friends, the image of saints has repeatedly been caricatured and presented in a distorted way, as if being a saint meant being out of touch with reality, naive and joyless. It is not uncommon to think that a saint is only someone who performs ascetic and moral actions of the highest order and who can therefore certainly be venerated, but never imitated in one's own life. How wrong and discouraging this view is! There is no saint, except the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin and who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how many times we stumble and fall in our lives, but in how many times we get up again with his help. He does not demand extraordinary actions, but wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because He is good and wants to make you His friends. Yes, you are the light of the world, because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things – but because He, Christ, is your life, our life. You are saints, we are saints, if we allow His grace to work in us.
Dear friends, this evening, as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ's words that a city set on a hill cannot be hidden. This assembly shines in the various meanings of the word – in the light of countless lamps, in the splendour of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it allows itself to be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax did not feed the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even if this sometimes means sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and end up, so to speak, empty-handed. Have the courage to commit your talents and gifts to the Kingdom of God and to give yourselves – like the wax of the candle – so that through you the Lord may illuminate the darkness. Dare to be ardent saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ shines forth and who thus bring light to the world. I trust that you and many other young people here in Germany will be torches of hope that do not remain hidden. 'You are the light of the world'. 'Where there is God, there is a future!' Amen.
[Pope Benedict, vigil in Freiburg, 24 September 2011]

Dear Young People! 

1. I have vivid memories of the wonderful moments we shared in Rome during the Jubilee of the Year 2000, when you came on pilgrimage to the Tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul. In long silent lines you passed through the Holy Door and prepared to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation; then the Evening Vigil and Morning Mass at Tor Vergata were moments of intense spirituality and a deep experience of the Church; with renewed faith, you went home to undertake the mission I entrusted to you: to become, at the dawn of the new millennium, fearless witnesses to the Gospel. 

By now World Youth Day has become an important part of your life and of the life of the Church. I invite you therefore to get ready for the seventeenth celebration of this great international event, to be held in Toronto, Canada, in the summer of next year. It will be another chance to meet Christ, to bear witness to his presence in today’s society, and to become builders of the "civilization of love and truth". 

2. "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world" (Mt 5:13-14): this is the theme I have chosen for the next World Youth Day. The images of salt and light used by Jesus are rich in meaning and complement each other. In ancient times, salt and light were seen as essential elements of life. 

"You are the salt of the earth...". One of the main functions of salt is to season food, to give it taste and flavour. This image reminds us that, through Baptism, our whole being has been profoundly changed, because it has been "seasoned" with the new life which comes from Christ (cf. Rom 6:4). The salt which keeps our Christian identity intact even in a very secularized world is the grace of Baptism. Through Baptism we are re-born. We begin to live in Christ and become capable of responding to his call to "offer [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God" (Rom12:1). Writing to the Christians of Rome, Saint Paul urges them to show clearly that their way of living and thinking was different from that of their contemporaries: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect" (Rom 12:2).

For a long time, salt was also used to preserve food. As the salt of the earth, you are called to preserve the faith which you have received and to pass it on intact to others. Your generation is being challenged in a special way to keep safe the deposit of faith (cf. 2 Th 2:15; 1 Tim 6:20; 2 Tim 1:14). 

Discover your Christian roots, learn about the Church’s history, deepen your knowledge of the spiritual heritage which has been passed on to you, follow in the footsteps of the witnesses and teachers who have gone before you! Only by staying faithful to God’s commandments, to the Covenant which Christ sealed with his blood poured out on the Cross, will you be the apostles and witnesses of the new millennium. 

It is the nature of human beings, and especially youth, to seek the Absolute, the meaning and fullness of life. Dear young people, do not be content with anything less than the highest ideals! Do not let yourselves be dispirited by those who are disillusioned with life and have grown deaf to the deepest and most authentic desires of their heart. You are right to be disappointed with hollow entertainment and passing fads, and with aiming at too little in life. If you have an ardent desire for the Lord you will steer clear of the mediocrity and conformism so widespread in our society. 

3. "You are the light of the world...". For those who first heard Jesus, as for us, the symbol of light evokes the desire for truth and the thirst for the fullness of knowledge which are imprinted deep within every human being. 

When the light fades or vanishes altogether, we no longer see things as they really are. In the heart of the night we can feel frightened and insecure, and we impatiently await the coming of the light of dawn. Dear young people, it is up to you to be the watchmen of the morning (cf. Is 21:11-12) who announce the coming of the sun who is the Risen Christ! 

The light which Jesus speaks of in the Gospel is the light of faith, God’s free gift, which enlightens the heart and clarifies the mind. "It is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of Christ" (2 Cor 4:6). That is why the words of Jesus explaining his identity and his mission are so important: "I am the light of the world; whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (Jn 8:12). 

Our personal encounter with Christ bathes life in new light, sets us on the right path, and sends us out to be his witnesses. This new way of looking at the world and at people, which comes to us from him, leads us more deeply into the mystery of faith, which is not just a collection of theoretical assertions to be accepted and approved by the mind, but an experience to be had, a truth to be lived, the salt and light of all reality (cf. Veritatis Splendor, 88). 

In this secularized age, when many of our contemporaries think and act as if God did not exist or are attracted to irrational forms of religion, it is you, dear young people, who must show that faith is a personal decision which involves your whole life. Let the Gospel be the measure and guide of life’s decisions and plans! Then you will be missionaries in all that you do and say, and wherever you work and live you will be signs of God’s love, credible witnesses to the loving presence of Jesus Christ. Never forget: "No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a bushel" (Mt 5:15)! 

Just as salt gives flavour to food and light illumines the darkness, so too holiness gives full meaning to life and makes it reflect God’s glory. How many saints, especially young saints, can we count in the Church’s history! In their love for God their heroic virtues shone before the world, and so they became models of life which the Church has held up for imitation by all. Let us remember only a few of them: Agnes of Rome, Andrew of Phú Yên, Pedro Calungsod, Josephine Bakhita, Thérèse of Lisieux, Pier Giorgio Frassati, Marcel Callo, Francisco Castelló Aleu or again Kateri Tekakwitha, the young Iroquois called "the Lily of the Mohawks". Through the intercession of this great host of witnesses, may God make you too, dear young people, the saints of the third millennium! 

4. Dear friends, it is time to get ready for the Seventeenth World Youth Day. I invite you to read and study the Apostolic Letter Novo Millennio Ineunte, which I wrote at the beginning of the year to accompany all Christians on this new stage of the life of the Church and humanity: "A new century, a new millennium are opening in the light of Christ. But not everyone can see this light. Ours is the wonderful and demanding task of becoming its ‘reflection’" (No. 54). 

Yes, now is the time for mission! In your Dioceses and parishes, in your movements, associations and communities, Christ is calling you. The Church welcomes you and wishes to be your home and your school of communion and prayer. Study the Word of God and let it enlighten your minds and hearts. Draw strength from the sacramental grace of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. Visit the Lord in that "heart to heart" contact that is Eucharistic Adoration. Day after day, you will receive new energy to help you to bring comfort to the suffering and peace to the world. Many people are wounded by life: they are excluded from economic progress, and are without a home, a family, a job; there are people who are lost in a world of false illusions, or have abandoned all hope. By contemplating the light radiant on the face of the Risen Christ, you will learn to live as "children of the light and children of the day" (1 Th 5:5), and in this way you will show that "the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true" (Eph 5:9). 

5. Dear young friends, Toronto is waiting for all of you who can make it! In the heart of a multi-cultural and multi-faith city, we shall speak of Christ as the one Saviour and proclaim the universal salvation of which the Church is the sacrament. In response to the pressing invitation of the Lord who ardently desires "that all may be one" (Jn 17:11), we shall pray for full communion among Christians in truth and charity. 

Come, and make the great avenues of Toronto resound with the joyful tidings that Christ loves every person and brings to fulfilment every trace of goodness, beauty and truth found in the city of man. Come, and tell the world of the happiness you have found in meeting Jesus Christ, of your desire to know him better, of how you are committed to proclaiming the Gospel of salvation to the ends of the earth! 

The young people of Canada, together with their Bishops and the civil authorities, are already preparing to welcome you with great warmth and hospitality. For this I thank them all from my heart. May this first World Youth Day of the new millennium bring to everyone a message of faith, hope and love! 

My blessing goes with you. And to Mary Mother of the Church I entrust each one of you, your vocation and your mission.

[Pope John Paul II, message for World Youth Day in Toronto 2002, from Castel Gandolfo, 25 July 2001]

In today’s Gospel Reading (cf. Mt 5:13-16), Jesus says to his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth. … You are the light of the world” (vv. 13-14). He uses a symbolic language to indicate to those who intend to follow him some criteria for living presence and witnessing in the world.

First image: salt. Salt is the element that gives flavour and which conserves and preserves food from corruption. The disciple is therefore called to keep society far from the dangers, the corrosive germs which pollute the life of people. It is a question of resisting moral degradation, sin, bearing witness to the values of honesty and fraternity, not giving in to worldly flattery of careerism, of power, of wealth. “Salt” is the disciple who, despite daily failures — because we all have them — gets up again from the dust of his errors, and begins again with courage and patience, every day, to seek dialogue and encounter with others. “Salt” is the disciple who does not look for consensus and praise, but strives to be a humble, constructive presence, faithful to the teachings of Jesus who came into the world not to be served, but to serve. And there is a great need for this attitude!

The second image that Jesus proposes to his disciples is that of light: “You are the light of the world”. Light disperses darkness and enables us to see. Jesus is the light that has dispelled the darkness, but it [darkness] still remains in the world and in individuals. It is the task of Christians to disperse it by radiating the light of Christ and proclaiming his Gospel. It is a radiance that can also come from our words, but it must flow above all from our “good works” (v. 16). A disciple and a Christian community are light in the world when they direct others to God, helping each one to experience his goodness and his mercy. The disciple of Jesus is light when he knows how to live his faith outside narrow spaces, when he helps to eliminate prejudice, to eliminate slander, and to bring the light of truth into situations vitiated by hypocrisy and lies. To shed light. But it is not my light, it is the light of Jesus: we are instruments to enable Jesus’ light to reach everyone.

Jesus invites us not to be afraid to live in the world, even if sometimes there are conditions of conflict and sin there. In the face of violence, injustice, oppression, the Christian cannot withdraw into self or hide in the security of his own enclosure; the Church also cannot withdraw into herself, she cannot abandon her mission of evangelization and service. Jesus, at the Last Supper, asked the Father not to take the disciples out of the world, to leave them, there, in the world, but to guard them from the spirit of the world. The Church expends herself with generosity and tenderness towards the little ones and the poor: this is not the spirit of the world, this spreads light, it is salt. The Church listens to the cry of the least and the excluded, because she is aware that she is a pilgrim community called to prolong Jesus Christ’s saving presence in history.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to be salt and light in the midst of the people, bringing to everyone, by example and word, the Good News of God’s love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 9 February 2020]

Mary in the Church, begetting sons

(Jn 19:25-34)

The short Gospel passage in vv.25-27 is perhaps the artistic apex of the Passion narrative.

In the fourth Gospel the Mother appears twice, at the wedding feast of Cana and at the foot of the Cross - both episodes present only in Jn.

Both at Cana and at the foot of the Cross, the Mother is a figure of the genuinely sensitive and faithful remnant of Israel.

The people-bride of the First Testament is as if waiting for the real Revelation: they perceive all the limitation of the ancient idea of God, which has reduced and extinguished the joy of the wedding feast between the Father and his sons.

Authentically worshipping Israel prompted the shift from religiosity to working Faith, from the old law to the New Testament.

An alternative Kingdom is generated at the foot of the Cross.

Mothers and fathers of a different humanity are being formed, proclaiming the Good News of God - this time for the exclusive benefit of every man, in whatever condition he may find himself.

In the theological intent of John, the Words of Jesus «Woman, behold your son» and «Behold, the Mother of yours» were intended to help settle and harmonise the strong tensions that at the end of the first century were already pitting different currents of thought about Christ against each other.

Among them: Judaizers; advocates of the primacy of faith over works; Laxists, who now considered Jesus anathema, intending to supplant Him with a generic freedom of spirit without history.

At the beginning of second century, Marcion rejected the entire First Testament and appreciated only a part of the New.

To those who now wanted to disregard the teaching of the 'fathers', Jesus proposed to make the past and novelty walk together.

The beloved disciple, icon of the authentic son of God [widespread Word-event (of New Testament)] must receive the Mother, the culture of the Covenant people, at Home - that is, in the nascent Church.

Yet, even if it is in the Christian community that the full meaning of the whole of Scripture is discovered, the Person, the story and the Word of Christ Himself cannot be understood nor will it bear concrete fruit without the ancient root that generated Him.

Projections alone are not enough, even if they shake the mental prisons, often edifices of false certainties: the Seed is not an enemy to be fought, but a virtue that comes from deep within.

The Alliance is precious, it gives the real jolt to life. Thus new family relationships flourish: then the Church is born.

And the Church raised up by its Lord will reveal something portentous: fruitfulness from nullity, life from the outpouring of it, birth from apparent sterility.

In Mary and the faithful icons generated from the breast of Christ - inseparable in the Mission - the intimate cooperation is intensified by moments of humble and silent community existence.

In perfect worshipping the identity-character of the Crucified One and in the movement of self-giving, the freedom of abasing oneself gaits and arises.

If anyone gets down, the new will advance.

And the old can also re-emerge, this time for good. For there are other Heights. For what makes one intimate with God is nothing external.

A river of unimagined attunements will reconnect the human spirit of believers to the motherly work of the Spirit without barriers.

Thus, in silence we will not oppose discomfort. The offended body will speak, manifesting the soul and filling the life, in a crescendo.

To internalize and live the message:

How do you get into the rhythm of this Gospel passage? In which character do you recognise yourself, or why do you see yourself in all of them? What is in each one your measure, which you give to the world?

[B.V. Mary Mother of the Church (Monday after Pentecost)]

Mary in the Church, begetting sons

(Jn 19:25-34)

The short Gospel passage in vv.25-27 is perhaps the artistic apex of the Passion narrative.

In the fourth Gospel the Mother appears twice, at the wedding feast of Cana and at the foot of the Cross - both episodes present only in Jn.

Both at Cana and at the foot of the Cross, the Mother is a figure of the genuinely sensitive and faithful remnant of Israel.

The bride-people of the First Testament are as if waiting for the real Revelation: they perceive all the limits of the ancient idea of God, which has reduced and extinguished the joy of the wedding feast between the Father and his children.

Authentically worshipping Israel prompted the transition from religiosity to working Faith, from the Old Law to the New Testament.

At the foot of the Cross an alternative kingdom is generated.

Fathers and mothers of a different humanity are formed, proclaiming the Good News of God - this time in favour exclusively of every man, in whatever condition he may find himself.

In the theological intent of John, the Words of Jesus "Woman, behold your son" and "Behold, your Mother" were intended to help settle and harmonise the strong tensions that at the end of the first century were already pitting different currents of thought about Christ against each other.

Among them: Judaizers; supporters of the primacy of faith over works; Laxists, who now considered Jesus anathema, intending to supplant him with a generic freedom of spirit without history.

At the beginning of the second century Marcion rejected the entire First Testament and seems to have appreciated only part of the New.

To those who now wanted to disregard the teaching of the 'fathers', Jesus proposes to make past and newness walk together.

The beloved disciple, the icon of the authentic son of God [the widespread Word-event of the New Testament] must receive the Mother, the culture of the covenant people, at home - that is, in the nascent Church.

Yet, even if it is in the Christian community that the full meaning of the whole of Scripture is discovered, the Person, the story and the Word of Christ Himself cannot be understood nor will it bear concrete fruit with the many dreams ahead, without the ancient root that generated it.

Projections alone are not enough, even if they shake the mental prisons, often buildings of false certainties: the Seed is not an enemy to be fought, but a virtue that comes from the depths.

The Covenant is precious, it gives a real jolt to life. Thus new family relationships flourish: then the Church is born.

And the Church raised by her Lord will reveal something portentous: fruitfulness from nullity, life from the outpouring of it, birth from apparent sterility.

In Mary and the faithful icons generated from the breast of Christ - inseparable in the Mission - the intimate cooperation is intensified by the moments of a humble and silent community existence.

In the perfect adoration of the identity-character of the Crucified One and in the movement of self-giving, the freedom of abasing oneself.

If someone settles, the new will advance.

And the old can also re-emerge, this time in perpetuity. For there are other Highnesses. For what makes one intimate with God is nothing external.

A river of unthinking attunements will reconnect the human spirit of believers to the motherly work of the Spirit without barriers.

Says the Tao Tê Ching (xxii): "If you bend, you preserve yourself; If you bend, you straighten; If you hollow, you fill; If you wear out, you renew; If you aim at the little, you obtain; If you aim at the much, you are disappointed. That is why the saint preserves the One [the highest of the few], and becomes a model [sets the measure] for the world. Not of itself sees, therefore it is enlightened; not of itself approves, therefore it shines; not of itself glorifies, therefore it has merit; not of itself exalts, therefore it endures. Precisely because he does not contend, no one in the world can contend with him. Were what the ancients said: if you bend you keep, were they empty words? Verily, whole they returned.

Thus, in silence we will not oppose hardship. The offended body will speak, manifesting the soul and filling the life, in a crescendo.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you enter into the rhythm of this Gospel passage? In which character do you recognise yourself, or why do you see yourself in all of them? What is your measure in each one, that you give to the world?

Blood Water: Body still torn apart

Blood and Water: life given and life imparted

(Jn 19:31-37)

The cruel departure of the Lord is not an end: it inaugurates new life, albeit amidst gruesome signs of true death.

The Crucified One saves: he communicates a saved life. He makes us pass from one world to another: only in this sense does the old Easter coincide with the new.

His is a Liberation and Redemption that proceeds far beyond the ritual promises of propitiatory sacrifices, and the religion of purifications.

The Blood of Christ is here a figure of the ultimate Gift of Love. The Water from the same pierced side is that which is assimilated and makes one grow.Such supra-eminent Friendship, given and welcomed, conquers all forms of death, because it offers a double principle of indestructible life: acceptance of an ever-new proposal, and growth from wave to wave.

Thus the Jewish feast of liberation is replaced by the Christian Passover - and the signs of the essential sacraments.

In the body of Jesus and in that of the men crucified at his side, John sees the fraternity of the Son with the human race, also made a divine sanctuary.

When Jesus is dead, we too can follow him [evildoers whose legs are broken] because no one can take the life of the Risen One, even if he tries to do so to those unfortunate with him.

In fact, the 'piercing' of Christ's Body continues even after his death on the Cross (v.34): the hostility towards him will not subside, indeed it wants to annihilate him forever.

But from her torn Body [the authentic Church] will continue to gush forth dizzying love and finally the joy of a festive banquet, as promised since the wedding at Cana.

The evangelist's testimony becomes the solemn foundation of the Faith of future disciples. And the Faith will supplant the yoke of religion that has already been redeemed.

Thus the author invites each of us to write our own Gospel (Jn 20:30-31) in the experience of God's paradoxes and salvation, which has reached us precisely from our sins or uncertain situations.

The future disciples are proclaimed blessed (Jn 20:29) precisely because they "did not see" that spectacle with their eyes.

They recognised it in themselves and in their own going - repeatedly experiencing in their own weaknesses the place of Mercy.

Motherly sense, not Church of spinsters

At St Martha's, on 21 May, Pope Francis celebrated Mass for the first time in the memory of the Blessed Virgin Mary Mother of the Church: as of this year, in fact, the feast day in the general Roman calendar is celebrated on the Monday after Pentecost, as ordered by the Pontiff in the decree Ecclesia mater of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments (11 February 2018), precisely to "foster the growth of the maternal sense of the Church in pastors, religious and the faithful, as well as of genuine Marian piety".

"In the Gospels every time Mary is spoken of, it is the 'mother of Jesus'," Francis immediately pointed out in his homily, referring to the Gospel passage from John (19:25-34). And if 'even in the Annunciation the word "mother" is not said, the context is one of motherhood: the mother of Jesus,' said the Pope, emphasising that 'this motherly attitude accompanies her throughout Jesus' life: she is mother'. So much so that, he continued, "in the end Jesus gives her as mother to his own, in the person of John: 'I am going away, but this is your mother'". Here, then, is "the motherhood of Mary".

"Our Lady's words are mother's words," the Pope explained. And they are "all of them: after those, at the beginning, of availability to God's will and praise to God in the Magnificat, all of Our Lady's words are the words of a mother". She is always "with her Son, even in her attitudes: she accompanies her Son, she follows her Son". And again 'first, in Nazareth, she raises him, educates him, but then she follows him: 'Your mother is there'". Mary "is mother from the beginning, from the moment she appears in the Gospels, from that moment of the Annunciation until the end, she is mother". Of her "one does not say 'the lady' or 'Joseph's widow'" - and indeed "they could say that" - but always Mary "is mother".

"The Fathers of the Church understood this well," the Pontiff affirmed, "and they also understood that Mary's maternity does not end in her; it goes beyond". Again the fathers "say that Mary is mother, the Church is mother and your soul is mother: there is feminine in the Church, which is motherly". Therefore, Francis explained, 'the Church is feminine because she is "church", "bride": she is feminine and she is mother, she gives birth'. She is, therefore, 'bride and mother', but 'the fathers go further and say: "Your soul is also Christ's bride and mother"'.

"In this attitude that comes from Mary who is mother of the Church," the Pope pointed out, "we can understand this feminine dimension of the Church: when she is not there, the Church loses its true identity and becomes a charity association or a football team or whatever, but not the Church.

"The Church is "woman"," Francis relaunched, "and when we think about the role of women in the Church we must go back to this source: Mary, mother". And "the Church is 'woman' because she is mother, because she is capable of 'giving birth to children': her soul is feminine because she is mother, she is capable of giving birth to attitudes of fecundity".

"Mary's maternity is a great thing," the Pontiff insisted. God in fact "wanted to be born as a woman to teach us this way". What is more, 'God fell in love with his people like a bridegroom with his bride: this is said in the Old Testament. And it is "a great mystery". As a consequence, Francis continued, "we can think" that "if the Church is mother, women will have to have functions in the Church: yes, it is true, they will have to have functions, many functions they do, thank God there are more functions women have in the Church".

But "this is not the most significant thing," the Pope warned, because "the important thing is that the Church be a woman, that she have this attitude of bride and mother". With the knowledge that 'when we forget this, it is a male Church without this dimension, and sadly it becomes a Church of spinsters, living in this isolation, incapable of love, incapable of fruitfulness'. Therefore, said the Pontiff, 'without woman the Church does not go forward, because she is woman, and this attitude of womanhood comes to her from Mary, because Jesus wanted it that way'.

In this regard, Francis also wanted to indicate 'the gesture, I would say the attitude, that most distinguishes the Church as a woman, the virtue that most distinguishes her as a woman'. And he suggested recognising it in Mary's 'gesture at the birth of Jesus: "She gave birth to her first-born son, wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger"'. An image in which we find "precisely the tenderness of every mother with her child: caring for him with tenderness, so that he does not injure himself, so that he is well covered". And 'tenderness' is therefore also 'the attitude of the Church that feels woman and feels mother'.

"St Paul - we listened to him yesterday, we also prayed to him in the breviary - reminds us of the virtues of the Spirit and speaks to us of meekness, of humility, of these so-called 'passive' virtues," the Pope said, pointing out that instead "they are the strong virtues, the virtues of mothers". Here it is that, he added, 'a Church that is a mother goes on the path of tenderness; it knows the language of such wisdom of caresses, of silence, of a gaze that knows compassion, that knows silence'. And "also a soul, a person who lives this belonging to the Church, knowing that she is also a mother must go down the same path: a meek, tender, smiling person, full of love".

"Mary, mother; the Church, mother; our soul, mother," Francis repeated, inviting us to think "of this great richness of the Church and ours; and let the Holy Spirit fertilise us, us and the Church, so that we may also become mothers of others, with attitudes of tenderness, of meekness, of humility. Sure that this is Mary's way". And, in conclusion, the Pope also noted how "Mary's language in the Gospels is curious: when she speaks to her Son, it is to tell him about the things that others need; and when she speaks to others, it is to tell them: 'do whatever he tells you'".

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 22/05/2018]

The Cross of Christ is the instrument of our salvation, which reveals the mercy of our God in all its fullness. The Cross is truly the place where God’s compassion for our world is perfectly manifested. Today, as we celebrate the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows, we contemplate Mary sharing her Son’s compassion for sinners. As Saint Bernard declares, the Mother of Christ entered into the Passion of her Son through her compassion (cf. Homily for Sunday in the Octave of the Assumption). At the foot of the Cross, the prophecy of Simeon is fulfilled: her mother’s heart is pierced through (cf. Lk 2:35) by the torment inflicted on the Innocent One born of her flesh. Just as Jesus cried (cf. Jn 11:35), so too Mary certainly cried over the tortured body of her Son. Her self-restraint, however, prevents us from plumbing the depths of her grief; the full extent of her suffering is merely suggested by the traditional symbol of the seven swords. As in the case of her Son Jesus, one might say that she too was led to perfection through this suffering (cf. Heb 2:10), so as to make her capable of receiving the new spiritual mission that her Son entrusts to her immediately before “giving up his spirit” (cf. Jn 19:30): that of becoming the mother of Christ in his members. In that hour, through the figure of the beloved disciple, Jesus presents each of his disciples to his Mother when he says to her: Behold your Son (cf. Jn 19:26-27).

Today Mary dwells in the joy and the glory of the Resurrection. The tears shed at the foot of the Cross have been transformed into a smile which nothing can wipe away, even as her maternal compassion towards us remains unchanged. The intervention of the Virgin Mary in offering succour throughout history testifies to this, and does not cease to call forth, in the people of God, an unshakable confidence in her: the Memorare prayer expresses this sentiment very well. Mary loves each of her children, giving particular attention to those who, like her Son at the hour of his Passion, are prey to suffering; she loves them quite simply because they are her children, according to the will of Christ on the Cross.

The psalmist, seeing from afar this maternal bond which unites the Mother of Christ with the people of faith, prophesies regarding the Virgin Mary that “the richest of the people … will seek your smile” (Ps 44:13). In this way, prompted by the inspired word of Scripture, Christians have always sought the smile of Our Lady, this smile which medieval artists were able to represent with such marvellous skill and to show to advantage. This smile of Mary is for all; but it is directed quite particularly to those who suffer, so that they can find comfort and solace therein. To seek Mary’s smile is not an act of devotional or outmoded sentimentality, but rather the proper expression of the living and profoundly human relationship which binds us to her whom Christ gave us as our Mother.

To wish to contemplate this smile of the Virgin, does not mean letting oneself be led by an uncontrolled imagination. Scripture itself discloses it to us through the lips of Mary when she sings the Magnificat: “My soul glorifies the Lord, my spirit exults in God my Saviour” (Lk 1:46-47). When the Virgin Mary gives thanks to the Lord, she calls us to witness. Mary shares, as if by anticipation, with us, her future children, the joy that dwells in her heart, so that it can become ours. Every time we recite the Magnificat, we become witnesses of her smile. Here in Lourdes, in the course of the apparition of Wednesday 3 March 1858, Bernadette contemplated this smile of Mary in a most particular way. It was the first response that the Beautiful Lady gave to the young visionary who wanted to know who she was. Before introducing herself, some days later, as “the Immaculate Conception”, Mary first taught Bernadette to know her smile, this being the most appropriate point of entry into the revelation of her mystery.

In the smile of the most eminent of all creatures, looking down on us, is reflected our dignity as children of God, that dignity which never abandons the sick person. This smile, a true reflection of God’s tenderness, is the source of an invincible hope. Unfortunately we know only too well: the endurance of suffering can upset life’s most stable equilibrium; it can shake the firmest foundations of confidence, and sometimes even leads people to despair of the meaning and value of life. There are struggles that we cannot sustain alone, without the help of divine grace. When speech can no longer find the right words, the need arises for a loving presence: we seek then the closeness not only of those who share the same blood or are linked to us by friendship, but also the closeness of those who are intimately bound to us by faith. Who could be more intimate to us than Christ and his holy Mother, the Immaculate One? More than any others, they are capable of understanding us and grasping how hard we have to fight against evil and suffering. The Letter to the Hebrews says of Christ that he “is not unable to sympathize with our weaknesses; for in every respect he has been tempted as we are” (cf. Heb 4:15). I would like to say, humbly, to those who suffer and to those who struggle and are tempted to turn their backs on life: turn towards Mary! Within the smile of the Virgin lies mysteriously hidden the strength to fight against sickness and for life. With her, equally, is found the grace to accept without fear or bitterness to leave this world at the hour chosen by God.

How true was the insight of that great French spiritual writer, Dom Jean-Baptiste Chautard, who in L’ âme de tout apostolat, proposed to the devout Christian to gaze frequently “into the eyes of the Virgin Mary”! Yes, to seek the smile of the Virgin Mary is not a pious infantilism, it is the aspiration, as Psalm 44 says, of those who are “the richest of the people” (verse 13). “The richest”, that is to say, in the order of faith, those who have attained the highest degree of spiritual maturity and know precisely how to acknowledge their weakness and their poverty before God. In the very simple manifestation of tenderness that we call a smile, we grasp that our sole wealth is the love God bears us, which passes through the heart of her who became our Mother. To seek this smile, is first of all to have grasped the gratuitousness of love; it is also to be able to elicit this smile through our efforts to live according to the word of her Beloved Son, just as a child seeks to elicit its mother’s smile by doing what pleases her. And we know what pleases Mary, thanks to the words she spoke to the servants at Cana: “Do whatever he tells you” (cf. Jn 2:5).

Mary’s smile is a spring of living water. “He who believes in me”, says Jesus, “out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water” (Jn 7:38). Mary is the one who believed and, from her womb, rivers of living water have flowed forth to irrigate human history. The spring that Mary pointed out to Bernadette here in Lourdes is the humble sign of this spiritual reality. From her believing heart, from her maternal heart, flows living water which purifies and heals. By immersing themselves in the baths at Lourdes, so many people have discovered and experienced the gentle maternal love of the Virgin Mary, becoming attached to her in order to bind themselves more closely to the Lord! In the liturgical sequence of this feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, Mary is honoured with the title of Fons amoris, “fount of love”. From Mary’s heart, there springs up a gratuitous love which calls forth a response of filial love, called to ever greater refinement. Like every mother, and better than every mother, Mary is the teacher of love. That is why so many sick people come here to Lourdes, to quench their thirst at the “spring of love” and to let themselves be led to the sole source of salvation, her son Jesus the Saviour.

Christ imparts his salvation by means of the sacraments, and especially in the case of those suffering from sickness or disability, by means of the grace of the sacrament of the sick. For each individual, suffering is always something alien. It can never be tamed. That is why it is hard to bear, and harder still – as certain great witnesses of Christ’s holiness have done – to welcome it as a significant element in our vocation, or to accept, as Bernadette expressed it, to “suffer everything in silence in order to please Jesus”. To be able to say that, it is necessary to have travelled a long way already in union with Jesus. Here and now, though, it is possible to entrust oneself to God’s mercy, as manifested through the grace of the sacrament of the sick. Bernadette herself, in the course of a life that was often marked by sickness, received this sacrament four times. The grace of this sacrament consists in welcoming Christ the healer into ourselves. However, Christ is not a healer in the manner of the world. In order to heal us, he does not remain outside the suffering that is experienced; he eases it by coming to dwell within the one stricken by illness, to bear it and live it with him. Christ’s presence comes to break the isolation which pain induces. Man no longer bears his burden alone: as a suffering member of Christ, he is conformed to Christ in his self-offering to the Father, and he participates, in him, in the coming to birth of the new creation.

Without the Lord’s help, the yoke of sickness and suffering weighs down on us cruelly. By receiving the sacrament of the sick, we seek to carry no other yoke that that of Christ, strengthened through his promise to us that his yoke will be easy to carry and his burden light (cf. Mt 11:30). I invite those who are to receive the sacrament of the sick during this Mass to enter into a hope of this kind.

The Second Vatican Council presented Mary as the figure in whom the entire mystery of the Church is typified (cf. Lumen Gentium, 63-65). Her personal journey outlines the profile of the Church, which is called to be just as attentive to those who suffer as she herself was. I extend an affectionate greeting to those working in the areas of public health and nursing, as well as those who, in different ways, in hospitals and other institutions, are contributing to the care of the sick with competence and generosity. Equally, I should like to say to all the hospitaliers, the brancardiers and the carers who come from every diocese in France and from further afield, and who throughout the year attend the sick who come on pilgrimage to Lourdes, how much their service is appreciated. They are the arms of the servant Church. Finally, I wish to encourage those who, in the name of their faith, receive and visit the sick, especially in hospital infirmaries, in parishes or, as here, at shrines. May you always sense in this important and delicate mission the effective and fraternal support of your communities! In this regard, I particularly greet and thank my brothers in the Episcopate, the French Bishops, Bishops and priests from afar, and all who serve the sick and suffering throughout the world. Thank you for your ministry close to our suffering Lord.

The service of charity that you offer is a Marian service. Mary entrusts her smile to you, so that you yourselves may become, in faithfulness to her son, springs of living water. Whatever you do, you do in the name of the Church, of which Mary is the purest image. May you carry her smile to everyone!

To conclude, I wish to join in the prayer of the pilgrims and the sick, and to pray with you a passage from the prayer to Mary that has been proposed for this Jubilee celebration:

“Because you are the smile of God, the reflection of the light of Christ, the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit,

Because you chose Bernadette in her lowliness, because you are the morning star, the gate of heaven and the first creature to experience the resurrection,

Our Lady of Lourdes”, with our brothers and sisters whose hearts and bodies are in pain, we pray to you!

[Pope Benedict, Lourdes 15 September 2008]

At the Cross, Mary is a participant in the drama of Redemption (Jn 19:17-28.25).

Mary united herself to Jesus’ offering

1. Regina caeli laetare, alleluia!

So the Church sings in this Easter season, inviting the faithful to join in the spiritual joy of Mary, Mother of the Redeemer. The Blessed Virgin’s gladness at Christ’s Resurrection is even greater if one considers her intimate participation in Jesus’ entire life.

In accepting with complete availability the words of the Angel Gabriel, who announced to her that she would become the Mother of the Messiah, Mary began her participation in the drama of Redemption. Her involvement in her Son’s sacrifice, revealed by Simeon during the presentation in the Temple, continues not only in the episode of the losing and finding of the 12-year-old Jesus, but also throughout his public life.

However, the Blessed Virgin’s association with Christ’s mission reaches its culmination in Jerusalem, at the time of the Redeemer’s Passion and Death. As the Fourth Gospel testifies, she was in the Holy City at the time, probably for the celebration of the Jewish feast of Passover.

2. The Council stresses the profound dimension of the Blessed Virgin’s presence on Calvary, recalling that she “faithfully persevered in her union with her Son unto the Cross” (Lumen gentium, n. 58), and points out that this union “in the work of salvation is made manifest from the time of Christ’s virginal conception up to his death” (ibid., n. 57).

 With our gaze illumined by the radiance of the Resurrection, we pause to reflect on the Mother’s involvement in her Son’s redeeming Passion, which was completed by her sharing in his suffering. Let us return again, but now in the perspective of the Resurrection, to the foot of the Cross where the Mother endured “with her only-begotten Son the intensity of his suffering, associated herself with his sacrifice in her mother’s heart, and lovingly consented to the immolation of this victim which was born of her” (ibid., n. 58).

With these words, the Council reminds us of “Mary’s compassion”; in her heart reverberates all that Jesus suffers in body and soul, emphasizing her willingness to share in her Son’s redeeming sacrifice and to join her own maternal suffering to his priestly offering.

The Council text also stresses that her consent to Jesus’ immolation is not passive acceptance but a genuine act of love, by which she offers her Son as a “victim” of expiation for the sins of all humanity.

Lastly, Lumen gentium relates the Blessed Virgin to Christ, who has the lead role in Redemption, making it clear that in associating herself “with his sacrifice” she remains subordinate to her divine Son.

3. In the Fourth Gospel, St John says that “standing by the Cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene” (19:25). By using the verb “to stand”, which literally means “to be on one’s feet”, “to stand erect”, perhaps the Evangelist intends to present the dignity and strength shown in their sorrow by Mary and the other women.

The Blessed Virgin’s “standing erect” at the foot of the Cross recalls her unfailing constancy and extraordinary courage in facing suffering. In the tragic events of Calvary, Mary is sustained by faith, strengthened during the events of her life and especially during Jesus’ public life. The Council recalls that “the Blessed Virgin advanced in her pilgrimage of faith and faithfully persevered in her union with her Son unto the Cross” (Lumen gentium, n. 58).

Sharing his deepest feelings, she counters the arrogant insults addressed to the crucified Messiah with forbearance and pardon, associating herself with his prayer to the Father: “Forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). By sharing in the feeling of abandonment to the Father’s will expressed in Jesus’ last words on the Cross: “Father into your hands I commend my spirit!” (ibid., 23:46), she thus offers, as the Council notes, loving consent “to the immolation of this victim which was born of her” (Lumen gentium, n. 58).

 4. Mary’s supreme “yes” is radiant with trusting hope in the mysterious future, begun with the death of her crucified Son. The words in which Jesus taught the disciples on his way to Jerusalem “that the Son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” re-echo in her heart at the dramatic hour of Calvary, awakening expectation of and yearning for the Resurrection.

Mary’s hope at the foot of the Cross contains a light stronger than the darkness that reigns in many hearts: in the presence of the redeeming Sacrifice, the hope of the Church and of humanity is born in Mary.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 2 April 1997]

At Santa Marta, on 21 May, Pope Francis celebrated Mass for the first time in the memory of the Blessed Virgin Mary Mother of the Church: as of this year, in fact, the feast day in the general Roman calendar is celebrated on the Monday after Pentecost, as ordered by the Pontiff in the decree Ecclesia mater of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments (11 February 2018), precisely to "foster the growth of the maternal sense of the Church in pastors, religious and the faithful, as well as of genuine Marian piety".

"In the Gospels every time Mary is spoken of, it is the 'mother of Jesus'," Francis immediately pointed out in his homily, referring to the Gospel passage from John (19:25-34). And if "even in the Annunciation the word 'mother' is not said, the context is one of motherhood: the mother of Jesus," said the Pope, emphasising that "this motherly attitude accompanies her throughout Jesus' life: she is mother". So much so that, he continued, "in the end Jesus gives her as mother to his own, in the person of John: 'I am going away, but this is your mother'". Here, then, is "the motherhood of Mary".

"Our Lady's words are mother's words," the Pope explained. And they are "all of them: after those, at the beginning, of availability to God's will and praise to God in the Magnificat, all of Our Lady's words are the words of a mother". She is always 'with her Son, even in her attitudes: she accompanies her Son, she follows her Son'. And again 'first, in Nazareth, she raises him, educates him, but then she follows him: 'Your mother is there'". Mary 'is mother from the beginning, from the moment she appears in the Gospels, from that moment of the Annunciation until the end, she is mother'. Of her "one does not say 'the lady' or 'Joseph's widow'" - and indeed "they could say that" - but always Mary "is mother".

"The Fathers of the Church understood this well," the Pontiff affirmed, "and they also understood that Mary's maternity does not end in her; it goes beyond". Again the fathers "say that Mary is mother, the Church is mother and your soul is mother: there is feminine in the Church, which is motherly". Therefore, Francis explained, 'the Church is feminine because she is "church", "bride": she is feminine and she is mother, she gives birth'. She is, therefore, 'bride and mother', but 'the fathers go further and say: "Your soul is also Christ's bride and mother"'.

"In this attitude that comes from Mary who is mother of the Church," the Pope pointed out, "we can understand this feminine dimension of the Church: when she is not there, the Church loses its true identity and becomes a charity association or a football team or whatever, but not the Church.

"The Church is "woman"," Francis relaunched, "and when we think about the role of women in the Church we must go back to this source: Mary, mother". And "the Church is 'woman' because she is mother, because she is capable of 'giving birth to children': her soul is feminine because she is mother, she is capable of giving birth to attitudes of fecundity".

"Mary's maternity is a great thing," the Pontiff insisted. God in fact "wanted to be born as a woman to teach us this way". What is more, 'God fell in love with his people like a bridegroom with his bride: this is said in the Old Testament. And it is "a great mystery". As a consequence, Francis continued, "we can think" that "if the Church is mother, women will have to have functions in the Church: yes, it is true, they will have to have functions, many functions they do, thank God there are more functions women have in the Church".

But "this is not the most significant thing," the Pope warned, because "the important thing is that the Church be a woman, that she have this attitude of bride and mother". With the knowledge that 'when we forget this, it is a male Church without this dimension, and sadly it becomes a Church of spinsters, living in this isolation, incapable of love, incapable of fruitfulness'. Therefore, said the Pontiff, 'without woman the Church does not go forward, because she is woman, and this attitude of womanhood comes to her from Mary, because Jesus wanted it that way'.

In this regard, Francis also wanted to indicate 'the gesture, I would say the attitude, that most distinguishes the Church as a woman, the virtue that most distinguishes her as a woman'. And he suggested recognising it in Mary's 'gesture at the birth of Jesus: "She gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger"'. An image in which we find "precisely the tenderness of every mother with her child: caring for him with tenderness, so that he does not injure himself, so that he is well covered". And 'tenderness' is therefore also 'the attitude of the Church that feels woman and feels mother'."St Paul - we listened to him yesterday, we also prayed to him in the breviary - reminds us of the virtues of the Spirit and speaks to us of meekness, of humility, of these so-called 'passive' virtues," the Pope said, pointing out that instead "they are the strong virtues, the virtues of mothers". Here it is that, he added, 'a Church that is a mother goes on the path of tenderness; it knows the language of such wisdom of caresses, of silence, of a gaze that knows compassion, that knows silence'. And "a soul, a person who lives this belonging to the Church, knowing that she is also a mother must also go down the same path: a meek, tender, smiling person, full of love".

"Mary, mother; the Church, mother; our soul, mother," Francis repeated, inviting us to think "of this great richness of the Church and ours; and let the Holy Spirit fertilise us, us and the Church, so that we may also become mothers of others, with attitudes of tenderness, of meekness, of humility. Sure that this is Mary's way". And, in conclusion, the Pope also noted how "Mary's language in the Gospels is curious: when she speaks to her Son, it is to tell him about the things that others need; and when she speaks to others, it is to tell them: 'do whatever he tells you'".

[Pope Francis, St Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 22/05/2018]