Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ [22 June 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! At a time when it seems that the Eucharist is not always at the centre of Christian life, this day invites us to reflect and to place at the heart of our priestly life the daily worthy celebration of the Eucharist and the adoration that prepares for it and continues its contemplation throughout the day.   

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (14:18-20)

Melchizedek is mentioned only twice in the Old Testament: here in the Book of Genesis and in Psalm 109/110, which we also read this Sunday. This character will play an important role for those who were waiting for the Messiah, and even more so among Christians, so much so that he is also mentioned in a Eucharistic prayer. Abraham meets Melchizedek on his return from a victorious expedition. The Bible rarely recounts the celebrations after a military victory, but here there is celebration, and much later, this story is given great importance. These are the facts: a war breaks out between two small coalitions, five against four, and the king of Sodom is among the combatants, but neither Melchizedek nor Abraham are directly involved at the beginning. The king of Sodom is defeated and Lot, Abraham's nephew, is taken prisoner among his subjects. Abraham, upon hearing this, rushes to free him along with the king of Sodom and his subjects. The king of Sodom thus becomes Abraham's ally. At this point, Melchizedek (whose name means 'king of righteousness') intervenes, perhaps for a meal of alliance, but the biblical author does not specify this and, indeed, from this point onwards, focuses the narrative on the figure of Melchizedek and his relationship with Abraham. We have very unusual information about Melchizedek in the Bible: he has no genealogy, he is both king and priest, whereas for many centuries in Israel this was not supposed to happen; he is king of Salem, probably the city that later became Jerusalem when David conquered it to make it his capital; the offering he brings consists of bread and wine and not animals, as will be the sacrifice offered by Abraham, recounted in Genesis 15.  Melchizedek blesses the Most High God and Abraham, who gives him a tithe (a tenth of the spoils of war), and with this gesture recognises his priesthood. These are all details that have clear significance for the sacred author, who focuses on the relationship between royal power and the priesthood: for example, this is the first time the word 'priest' appears in the Bible, and Melchizedek has all the characteristics of a priest: he offers a sacrifice, pronounces a blessing in the name of 'the Most High God who created heaven and earth' and receives a tithe of Abram's goods. There is complete silence about Melchizedek's origins: the Bible attaches great importance to the genealogy of priests, but we know nothing about Melchizedek, the first on the list, and he seems timeless. However, the fact that he is recognised as a priest means that a priesthood existed before the legal establishment of the priesthood in Jewish law linked to the tribe of Levi, son of Jacob and great-grandson of Abraham. In other words, there were priests who were not descended from Levi and therefore 'according to the order of Melchizedek', in the manner of Melchizedek. No exegete can say with certainty who wrote this text, when, or for what purpose. It may date back to the time when the dynasty of David seemed to have died out and a different Messiah was beginning to emerge: no longer a king descended from David, but a priest, capable of bringing the blessing of the Most High God to the descendants of Abraham. Melchizedek, "king of justice and king of peace", is considered an ancestor of the Messiah, as we see more clearly in Psalm 109/110. Abraham was not yet circumcised when he was blessed by Melchizedek, and in the controversies of the early communities formed by circumcised Jews and pagans, Christians deduced that it was not necessary to be circumcised to be blessed by God. Finally, in the offering of bread and wine, which seals a covenant meal, we Christians recognise Christ's gesture in continuity with God's plan. At every Eucharist, we repeat Melchizedek's gesture, accompanying the offering of bread and wine with the words "Blessed are you, God of the universe, from your goodness we have received the bread (wine) that we offer you..."

*Responsorial Psalm (109/110:1-4)

Some of these verses from the psalm are addressed to the new king of Jerusalem on the day of his coronation, a ritual that subtly expressed the expectation of the Messiah, and it was hoped that every newly crowned king would be the Messiah. The ceremony took place in two stages, first in the Temple, then inside the royal palace in the throne room. When the king arrived at the Temple escorted by the royal guard, a prophet placed the diadem on his head and handed him a scroll called 'the Testimonies', i.e. the document of the Covenant concluded by God with the descendants of David containing formulas applied to each king: 'You are my son, today I have begotten you', 'Ask of me and I will give you the nations for your inheritance', and this document also revealed his new name (cf. Isaiah 9:5). The priest anointed him, and the ritual in the Temple ended with the acclamation called "Terouah," a war cry transformed into an ovation for the new king-leader. The procession then wound its way to the Palace, and along the way, the king stopped to drink from a spring, symbolising the new life and strength he had to take on to triumph over his enemies. Once at the palace, the second part of the ceremony took place in the throne room. At this point, today's psalm begins: the prophet speaks on behalf of God, using the solemn formula: 'Oracle of the Lord to my lord', which should be read as 'word of God to the new king'. In the Bible, we find the expression 'to sit on the throne of kings', which means 'to reign'. The new king is invited to climb the steps of the throne and sit down: 'Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool'. Enemy warriors in chains are carved or engraved on the steps of the throne: thus, as he climbs the steps, the king will place his foot on the necks of these soldiers, a gesture of victory and a harbinger of his future victories. This is the meaning of the first verse, to make his enemies the footstool of his feet. The expression 'at my right hand' once had a concrete, topographical meaning: in Jerusalem, Solomon's palace is located south of the Temple (therefore to the right of the Temple, if one faces east), so God reigns invisibly above the Ark in the Temple and the king, sitting on his throne, will be at his right hand. Then the prophet hands the sceptre to the new king; and this is the second verse: 'The sceptre of your power extends from Zion; you rule in the midst of your enemies'. The handing over of the sceptre is a symbol of the mission entrusted to the king, who will rule over his enemies by joining the long line of kings descended from David, who in turn was the bearer of the promise made to David. The king is only a mortal man, but he bears an eternal destiny because God's plan is eternal. This is probably the meaning of the following verse, which is somewhat obscure: "The principality is yours on the day of your power (i.e. the day of your coronation) among holy splendours (you are clothed in the holiness of God and therefore in his immortality). From the womb of the dawn like dew, I have begotten you," a way of saying that it has been planned by God since the dawn of the world. The king remains mortal but, in the faith of Israel, the descendants of David, foreseen from eternity, are immortal. In the same sense, the following verse uses the expression 'forever': 'You are a priest forever', the future king (i.e. the Messiah) will therefore be both king and priest, mediator between God and his people. Here we have proof that, in the last centuries of biblical history, it was thought that the Messiah would also be a priest. Finally, the psalm specifies: priest "according to the order of Melchizedek" because there was the problem that one cannot be a priest unless one is descended from Levi. How can this Law be reconciled with the promise that the Messiah would be a king descended from David of the tribe of Judah and not from Levi? Psalm 109/110 provides the answer: he will be a priest, yes, but in the manner of Melchizedek, king of Salem, who was both king and priest long before the tribe of Levi existed. Psalm 109/110 was sung in Jerusalem during the Feast of Tabernacles to remember God's messianic promises: evoking a scene of enthronement, it was precisely these promises that were thought of in order to keep the hope of the people alive. Rereading this psalm in the New Testament, a new depth was discovered: Jesus Christ is truly that priest 'forever', mediator of the definitive Covenant, victor over man's worst enemy, death. St Paul says this in his first letter to the Corinthians: 'The last enemy to be destroyed will be death, for he has put everything under his feet'.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (11:23-26)

St Paul reveals here the true meaning of the word 'tradition': a precious deposit faithfully handed down from generation to generation. If we are believers today, it is because, for over two thousand years, Christians in every age have faithfully handed on the deposit of faith as in an unbroken relay race. Transmission is faithful when the tradition of the Lord is preserved, as St Paul writes: "I have received from the Lord what I have handed on to you". Only this faithful transmission builds the Body of Christ throughout human history, since it is not the transmission of intellectual knowledge, but of the mystery of Christ, and fidelity is measured by our way of life. This is why Paul is concerned with correcting the bad habits of the Corinthians and affirms that living in fraternal communion is directly connected with the mystery of the Eucharist. Paul writes: Jesus "on the night he was betrayed, took bread". "He was betrayed": Just as he was misunderstood and betrayed, handed over into the hands of his enemies, Jesus "took bread, gave thanks, broke it and said...". He thus has the strength to turn the situation upside down and, from a path of death, performs the supreme gesture of the Covenant between God and humankind, echoing his words: "No one takes my life from me. I lay it down of my own accord" (Jn 10:18). He transforms a context of hatred and blindness into a place of love and sharing: "My body is given for you", a body given for our liberation, and the effectiveness of this gift is linked to the biblical concept of "memorial": "Do this in memory of me".  "This cup is the new covenant in my blood." This formula centres on the theme of the new covenant, taken from Jeremiah (31:31-34) and established not with blood shed on the people (Ex 24), but with his blood and in the Holy Spirit. Here we can understand what forgiveness is, the perfect gift given beyond hatred, pure love that transforms death into a source of life. Only forgiveness is this miracle, and we repeat it in every Eucharist: 'Mystery of faith'. "For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death": we proclaim his death, a testimony of love to the extreme, as the Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation reminds us: "his outstretched arms mark the indelible sign of the Covenant" between God and humanity. "We proclaim his death": we commit ourselves to the great work of reconciliation and covenant inaugurated by Jesus. "Until he comes": we are the people of expectation that we proclaim in every Eucharist, and if Jesus invites us to repeat this prayer so often, it is to educate us in the hope that means becoming impatient for his Kingdom in joyful expectation of his coming. Finally, Paul says "until he comes" and not until he returns because Christ has not left us; he is with us until the end of the world (cf. Mt 28:20). Indeed, he never ceases to come because he is a working presence who progressively realises the great divine plan since the creation of the world and asks us to collaborate in it.

NOTE. The last words of the Bible, in Revelation, are precisely "Come, Lord Jesus." The beginning of the book of Genesis spoke to us of the vocation of humanity, called to be the image and likeness of God, and therefore destined to live in love, dialogue and sharing, just as God himself is Trinity. The last word of the Bible tells us that the plan is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, and when we say 'Come, Lord Jesus', we invoke with all our strength the day when he will gather us from the four corners of the world to form one Body.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (9:11b-17)

 For the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, we read the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, in which Luke certainly wants to emphasise the link with the Eucharist by describing Jesus' gestures with the same words as the Eucharistic liturgy: "He took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven, recited the blessing over them, broke them and gave them to the disciples": a clear allusion to the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24:30). Jesus is announcing the kingdom of God, preaching the Gospel and performing miracles. The multiplication of the loaves takes place in this context: it is evening, the disciples are worried about the crowd and suggest sending everyone away so that they can find food for themselves in the surrounding area. Jesus does not accept this solution because the Kingdom of God is a mystery of communion. He is not satisfied with "every man for himself" and proposes his own solution: "You yourselves give them something to eat". But how? Five loaves and two fish, the apostles reply, are only enough for a family, not for five thousand men. Jesus does not want to put them in difficulty, but if he tells them to feed them themselves, it is because he knows they can do it. The disciples respond by offering to go and buy bread, but Jesus has another solution: "Have them sit down in groups of about fifty." He chooses the "solution of gathering" because the Kingdom of God is not an indistinct crowd, but a community of communities. Jesus blessed the loaves, recognising bread as a gift from God to be used to serve the hungry. Recognising bread as a gift from God is a true programme of life, and this is the meaning of the "preparation of the gifts" during Mass. It was formerly called the "offertory," and the liturgical reform of the Second Vatican Council replaced it with the "preparation of the gifts" to help us better understand that it is not we who give something of our own, but rather it is the 'preparation of God's gifts'. By bringing bread and wine, symbols of the entire cosmos and of humanity's work, we recognise that everything is a gift and that we are not masters of what God has given us (both material goods and physical, intellectual and spiritual riches), but only administrators. This gesture, repeated at every Eucharist with faith, transforms us, making us truly stewards of our riches for the good of all. It is precisely in this gesture of generous self-emptying that we can find the courage to perform miracles: when he tells his disciples, "Give them something to eat," Jesus wants them to discover that they have unsuspected resources, but on condition that they recognise everything as a gift from God. Before the hungry of the whole world, he also says to us: "Feed them yourselves," and, like the disciples, we have resources that we are unaware of, provided that we recognise that what we possess is a gift from God and that we are only administrators who reject the "logic of dispersion," that is, thinking only of our own interests. The link between this multiplication of the loaves and the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ thus becomes clear. The three synoptic Gospels recount the institution of the Eucharist on Holy Thursday evening, and Luke adds the Lord's command, "Do this in memory of me," but St John offers us another key: he relates the washing of the feet with Jesus' command to the disciples to do the same. Here, then, are two inseparable ways of celebrating the memorial of Christ: sharing the Eucharist and placing oneself at the service of others.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

For a transparent coexistence

(Mt 7:1-5)

The Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5-7) lists catechesis on salient questions of living in the communities of Galilee and Syria - composed of Jews converted to Christ.

There was no lack of contempt on the part of the veterans for the new ones who appeared at the threshold of the churches - for their way of life far from the recognized norm, or even for trifles.

«Theatrant» (v.5) is one who thinks big about himself and always has the ability to look around to convince himself that he can excel - without putting himself in an attitude of respect for the enigma of life, where instead the burdens can turn into progress.

The objective view of ourselves and our personal growth - often resulting from deviations from stereotypes or nomenclatures - can make us benevolent. It can convince of due respect and even deference for the ‘more’ that surrounds us and calls.

The legalism of plastered details leads in fact to the neglect of the essential, in mutual love (cf. vv.3-5).

In the 70s of the first century the awareness of the different familiar and serene relationship with God - and the new way of living his Law - was questioning believers and involved relations with community’ sisters and brothers.

After having introduced both the new criteria of ‘Greater Justice’ and the recovery of the principles of Creation, the evangelist suggests some essential ideas for the internal quality of life of the fraternities.

The cultural background of older church members was fiercely legalistic. This baggage didn’t favour the freedom of mutual evaluations: coexistence had to be more transparent.

To encourage communion, Mt wants to present a free and tranquil Jesus - not superhuman, nor idol or model: vice versa, genuine Person; not unilateral Master.

In fact, he knew how to recover and wanted to enhance all the individual sensitivities, to allow the expression of friendship and enrichment in every human reality.

Only its strong ‘root’ in the relationship with the Father had to be of sacred example for each one, and inviolable comparison for everyone, always.

In Palestine the Lord had not shown himself to be fundamentalist. 

«Trust» in the Father and in his «life to come» gave the Son himself the certainty that he could open completely to situations and to everyone - whatever circumstances he found himself in.

A convivial openness to differences, in order not to block the gates and the outcome of the Novelty, in the Spirit of the Beatitudes.

This is because we have been called to make our existence exponential and that of all, not to dampen it with preconceptions and relative convictions.

We accept Providence, ourselves and the others as they are: aware that there is a precious secret, an unprecedented destiny, a Mystery that surpasses us... behind every event, in each of our own ‘intimate faces’ [supported by the Father], or in the brother even if eccentric.

The ways of following that resonate deep in the heart are as varied as people, events, rhythms commensurate with the soul, ages.

They embrace the same Proposal - without losing the enduring Mystery or any link in this versatility.

Only here... real World, Person, Nature and Eternity are allied.

[Monday 12th wk. in O.T.  June 23, 2025]

For transparent coexistence

(Mt 7:1-5)

The Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5-7) lists catechesis on salient issues in the life of the communities of Galilee and Syria, composed of Jews converted to Christ.

There were episodes of mutual contempt, fuelled especially by veterans accustomed to scrutinising newcomers who presented themselves at the door of the churches, either because their lifestyle was far from the accepted norm or even for trivial reasons.

But we are not judges, we are family members. And of course, in the final analysis, it is precisely malice that sharpens the eye to the slightest faults in others: generally, specks and external shortcomings.

This while the same shrewdness overlooks our own enormities - the heavy beam that separates us not only from God and everyone else, but even from ourselves, bringing us closer to the selfish and arrogant ego.

A 'theatral' person (v. 5) is someone who thinks highly of themselves and is always looking around to convince themselves that they can excel - without showing any respect for the enigma of life, where burdens can be transformed into progress.

An objective view of ourselves and our personal growth - often arising precisely from deviations from stereotypes or nomenclatures - can make us benevolent. It can convince us of the respect and even deference due to the greater reality that surrounds us and calls us.

Legalism in rigid details leads to neglect of what is essential in mutual love (cf. vv. 3-5).

We know very well how hard it is to question ourselves, or to educate perfectionist religious people to detach themselves from their accidental convictions [or fads], which have become sclerotic habits like totems.

In short, in the 70s of the first century, awareness of a different, peaceful relationship with God – and a new way of living his Law – was challenging believers and affecting their relationships with their brothers and sisters in the community.

After introducing both the new criteria of 'greater justice' and the recovery of the principles of Creation, the evangelist suggests some essential points for the quality of life within the fraternities.

The cultural background of the older members of the church was fiercely legalistic. 

This background did not favour freedom in mutual evaluation: coexistence had to be more transparent.

Devout preconceptions seemed an insurmountable obstacle to personalised life and mutual sharing according to the new logic of the Beatitudes [Mt 5:1-12: Self-portrait of Christ as an 'open book' (pierced by a spear)].

The cultural baggage linked to obligations, a sense of duty and hierarchy, an ingrained lifestyle, and beliefs that were difficult to abandon multiplied harsh judgements between generations and between different cultural backgrounds.

To encourage communion, Matthew wants to present a free and peaceful Jesus - not a superman, nor an idol or model: on the contrary, a genuine Person; a non-unilateral Teacher.

He knew how to restore; he wanted to value all the multifaceted, individual sensibilities, to allow the expression of friendship and enrichment in every human reality.

Only his strong 'roots' in his relationship with the Father were to be a sacred example for everyone and an inviolable model for all, always.

This was for the sake of a rich and global transparency, to be proposed also to his disciples.

In this way, adherence to particular beliefs or the repetition of the usual disciplines of perfection did not take shape.

Nor should pious mass observances be favoured, as these are sometimes the first obstacle to dialogue and to the Exodus in its various forms.

Then life itself would providentially guide each person towards a specific witness, which could itself create another opening - relevant to their own character and vocation of the soul.

In Palestine, the Lord did not show himself to be obsessive or one-sided, nor was he reduced to normal and plausible patterns based on cultural codes, evaluative prudence, or moral and religious paradigms.

Trust in the Father and in the life that is given gave the Master Jesus the certainty that he could open himself totally to situations and to everyone, whatever reality he found himself in.

A convivial openness to the most exceptional differences, so as not to block the gateways and the outcome of the Newness, in the Spirit of the Beatitudes.

Unconditional love always applies first and foremost to the disciple, the members of the same community, and one's neighbour.

This is because we have been called to make our existence and that of everyone else exponential, not to dampen it with glamorous versions, preconceived ideas, and relative convictions.

We were created to love the exceptional truth of women and men, not to extinguish uniqueness by passing judgement on trifles.Let us accept Providence, ourselves and others as they are: aware that there is a precious secret, a destiny of newness, a Mystery that surpasses us... behind every event, in each of our own intimate faces [supported by the Father], or in our eccentric brother.

The ways of following that resonate in the depths of our hearts are as varied as the people, events, rhythms commensurate with the soul, and ages.

They embrace the same Proposal - without losing the enduring Mystery or any bond in this multifacetedness.

Only here... the real world, the Person, Nature and Eternity are united.

"When the weaver raises one foot, the other lowers. When the movement ceases and one of the feet stops, the fabric is no longer woven. His hands throw the shuttle from one to the other, but no hand can hope to hold it. Like the weaver's gestures, it is the union of opposites that weaves our life" [African Peul oral tradition].

"We are utterly lost if we lack this particular Individuality, the only thing we can truly call our own and whose loss is also a loss for the whole world. It is precious precisely because it is not universal" [Tagore].

"We must learn to abandon our defences and our need to control, and trust totally in the guidance of the spirit" [Sobonfu Somé].

"True morality does not consist in following the beaten path, but in finding the path that is true for us and following it without fear" [Gandhi].

Beams and specks: a paradoxical situation, where there is sometimes an excess of 'belief' - yet Faith is lacking.

“Let us be concerned for each other”: responsibility towards our brothers and sisters.

This first aspect is an invitation to be “concerned”: the Greek verb used here is katanoein, which means to scrutinize, to be attentive, to observe carefully and take stock of something. We come across this word in the Gospel when Jesus invites the disciples to “think of” the ravens that, without striving, are at the centre of the solicitous and caring Divine Providence (cf. Lk 12:24), and to “observe” the plank in our own eye before looking at the splinter in that of our brother (cf. Lk 6:41). In another verse of the Letter to the Hebrews, we find the encouragement to “turn your minds to Jesus” (3:1), the Apostle and High Priest of our faith. So the verb which introduces our exhortation tells us to look at others, first of all at Jesus, to be concerned for one another, and not to remain isolated and indifferent to the fate of our brothers and sisters. All too often, however, our attitude is just the opposite: an indifference and disinterest born of selfishness and masked as a respect for “privacy”. Today too, the Lord’s voice summons all of us to be concerned for one another. Even today God asks us to be “guardians” of our brothers and sisters (Gen 4:9), to establish relationships based on mutual consideration and attentiveness to the well-being, the integral well-being of others. The great commandment of love for one another demands that we acknowledge our responsibility towards those who, like ourselves, are creatures and children of God. Being brothers and sisters in humanity and, in many cases, also in the faith, should help us to recognize in others a true alter ego, infinitely loved by the Lord. If we cultivate this way of seeing others as our brothers and sisters, solidarity, justice, mercy and compassion will naturally well up in our hearts. The Servant of God Pope Paul VI stated that the world today is suffering above all from a lack of brotherhood: “Human society is sorely ill. The cause is not so much the depletion of natural resources, nor their monopolistic control by a privileged few; it is rather the weakening of brotherly ties between individuals and nations” (Populorum Progressio, 66).

[Pope Benedict, Message for Lent 2012]

In the liturgy of the word, Luke's Gospel presents us once again with Jesus' question: "Can a blind man guide a blind man?" (Lk 6:39). The Lord means that a guide cannot be blind; he must see well if he does not want to risk harming those entrusted to him. Jesus thus draws the attention of all those who have educational or leadership responsibilities: pastors of souls, rulers of peoples, legislators, teachers, parents, urging them to be aware, to feel responsibility, to ask themselves about the right path and to be the first to follow it themselves.

3. And the right path is the one traced by the divine Master. He said so himself with a Semitic expression that sounds like this: "The disciple is not above his master, but everyone who is well trained will be like his master" (Lk 6:40). With this, Jesus presents himself as a model and invites us to follow his conduct and his teachings. Only in this way can we be sure and wise guides. The Lord's teachings on moral life are contained mainly in the Sermon on the Mount, which we have been reading for the past three Sundays during the celebration of Holy Mass. In today's passage, we find another very significant phrase, which urges us not to be presumptuous and hypocritical. "Why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye and not notice the log in your own?" (Lk 6:41). How easy it is to see the faults and sins of others and not see our own! And how can we tell if our eye is clear or if it is impeded by a beam? The proof comes from our actions. It is Jesus himself who tells us: "Every tree is recognised by its fruit" (Lk 6:44). The fruit is our actions, but also our words. These too reveal the quality of the tree. In fact, those who are good bring out good from their hearts and mouths, and those who are evil bring out evil. This teaching of Jesus echoes the ancient words of wisdom from Sirach, which we heard in the first reading: 'The fruit shows how the tree is cultivated, so words reveal the feelings of a person' (Sir 27:6).

[Pope John Paul II, homily at Corviale, 1 March 1992]

Jesus gave us clear rules to follow in order to avoid hypocrisy: do not judge others, lest we be judged in the same way; and when we are tempted to do so, it is better to look in the mirror first, not to hide behind make-up, but to see ourselves as we really are. Recalling that the only true judgement is that of God with his mercy, Pope Francis — in the Mass celebrated on Monday morning, 20 June, in the chapel of Casa Santa Marta — recommended not giving in to the temptation to put ourselves in the Lord's place, doubting his word.
"Jesus speaks to people and teaches them many things about prayer, about riches, about vain concerns, many things, about how his disciples should behave," Francis said. And so "he comes to this passage of the Gospel on judgement," proposed by the liturgy (Matthew 7:1-5). It is a passage in which "the Lord is very concrete." In fact, if "sometimes the Lord tells us a parable to make us understand, here it is: 'ta, ta, ta': direct, because judgement is something only he can do."
"It begins" with a clear word from Jesus: "Do not judge, so that you will not be judged." Therefore, "if you do not want to be judged, do not judge others: 'tac, tac', clear". And the Lord "goes one step further", indicating precisely the criterion of measure: "For with the judgement you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you".
"All of us want, on the day of judgement, for the Lord to look upon us with kindness, for the Lord to forget the many bad things we have done in our lives," said Francis. And "this is right, because we are children, and a child always expects this from his father." But "if you continually judge others, you will be judged by the same measure: this is clear."
"First, the commandment, the fact: 'Do not judge, so that you will not be judged,'" the Pope reiterated, adding: "Second, the measure will be the same as you use for your brothers and sisters." And then "the third step: look in the mirror, but not to put on make-up so that your wrinkles cannot be seen; no, no, no, that is not the advice!" Rather, Francis suggested, "look in the mirror to see yourself as you are." Jesus' words are clear: "Why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye and not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is a log in your own eye?"
"How does the Lord describe us," asked the Pontiff, "when we do this? With one word: 'Hypocrite, first take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.'" In reality, the Lord's reaction should not surprise us, for he "becomes angry; he is very strong, and he even seems to insult us: he calls those who judge others 'hypocrites'.
The reason is that "those who judge," explained the Pope, "put themselves in God's place, make themselves God and doubt God's word." It is precisely "what the serpent convinced our fathers to do: 'No, no, God is a liar, if you eat this, you will be like him'. And they wanted to put themselves in God's place."
For this reason, the Pope insisted, "it is so ugly to judge: judgement belongs to God alone, to him alone!" Rather, it is up to us to "love, understand, pray for others when we see things that are not good," and if necessary, "even speak to them" to warn them if something does not seem to be going right. In any case, "never judge, never," because "if we judge, it is hypocrisy."
After all, Francis said, "when we judge, we put ourselves in God's place, that is true, but our judgement is a poor judgement: it can never, ever be a true judgement." Because, in fact, "true judgement is that which God gives." And "why can't ours be like God's? Because God is almighty and we are not? No, because our judgement lacks mercy." And "when God judges, he judges with mercy."
In conclusion, the Pope suggested that we think "today about what the Lord tells us: do not judge, so as not to be judged; the measure with which we judge will be the same that will be used with us; and thirdly, let us look in the mirror before judging." And so when we feel like saying, "she does this, he does that," it is better to look in the mirror before speaking. Otherwise, "I will be a hypocrite," Francis repeated, "because I am putting myself in God's place." And in any case, "my judgment is a poor judgment: it lacks something very important that God's judgment has, it lacks mercy." The Pope expressed his hope that the Lord "will help us to understand these things well."
[Pope Francis, homily at St. Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano, 20 June 2016]

Corpus Domini

(Lk 9:11b-17)

The Second Vatican Council didn’t spend a single word about the many Eucharistic devotions.

To make us fully understand the Person of Christ, the Council Fathers were well aware that Jesus did not leave a statue or a relic.

He preferred to express Himself in a gesture, which challenges us.

In the Jewish world, in the evening each family met around for meal, and that of breaking bread was the most significant moment in their experience of conviviality (and memory of the delivery of self to others).

The only bread was divided and shared among all the family members - but even a poor hungry man could look out at the door, which should not be tightened.

Bread and wine, products that had assimilated the energies of heaven and earth, were perceived with spiritual sensitivity - gifts of the Creator for the life and joy of humanity.

In that culture, bread is basic food. But our life is complete only if there is also the element of celebration: here is wine.

Even today bread is not cut with a knife, to respect its sacredness: only broken. It contains concrete existence.

This is why Jesus chooses the Banquet as a sign of his Person, life, word, risky event, given in food.

During the family dinner, bread and wine were not perceived as manna, that is, like natural and raw products. Family members wasn’t even feeding to regain strength, and that’s it.

In wheat and grapes, all the varied contributions of the domestic hearth were also met.

Around the banquet, each man saw in bread and wine the fruit of his work: cleaning of the soil, plowing, sowing, pruning, harvesting and work of press.

The woman caught in the bread her work of grinding, kneading, cooking. Even minors could remember something of their own, because the kids lent themselves to drawing water.

Dinner was a celebration of harmony. The canteen was precisely a place where young people were educated to the perception of existing in unity, instead of disinterest.

Gratitude towards God’s gifts and perception of one’s own support, which reaches (really) the goal in the spirit of synergy and communion.

Contributions, resources and skills appropriate to serve, for everyone's life.

In the Eucharistic gesture Jesus says: new heavens and earth do not correspond to the world in which each one hastens to reap for himself or his circle, in order to grab the maximum of resources.

What about his kingdom? All invited and brothers agree, no master or ruler - destined to stand in front or above (albeit faster than the others) even in Heaven.

Even the Apostles - called by Jesus with Him but still at a safe distance from Him (cf. Lk 9:10.12) - are not the owners of the Bread, but those who must give it to everyone (vv.13.16), to create abundance where it’s not.

In the passage from Lk Jesus arouses bewilderment. He disagrees with the idea that everyone arranges; nor does He like almsgiving (vv.12-13).

He dictates to disciples that the crowd lay down (v.14 Greek text) as did the gentlemen and the free people in solemn moments.

He wants and insists that the Apostles first serve (vv.13.16), not other slaves.

And perhaps the most astounding thing is that none of those present are required to make preventive gestures of purification, as was customary in traditional religiosity.

Before the meal it postulated ablution: a sort of ceremony that emphasized a sacral detachment between pure and impure.

The only task of the apostles is to distribute Food - then to be shredded, sifted and assimilated, to build a new Kingdom - not to make preventive x-rays; let alone interested.

In religion we have a long line of fulfillments to observe in order to present ourselves before God.

On the journey of Faith it’s the gratuitous encounter with the Lord that makes us grow, making us pure without conditions.

Appeal to real Conviviality, and evergreen Reminder not to settle.