The world considers a long life fortunate, but God, more than age, looks at the uprightness of heart. The world gives credit to the "wise" and "intelligent", while God prefers the "lowly". The general teaching that we can draw from this is that there are two dimensions to reality: a more profound, true and eternal one and the other, marked by finitude, transience and appearance. Now, it is important to emphasize that these two dimensions are not placed in simple temporal succession, as if true eternal life were to begin only after death. In reality, true life, eternal life already begins in this world, although within the precariousness of human history; eternal life begins in the measure to which we open ourselves to the mystery of God and welcome it in our midst. It is God, the Lord of life, in whom "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17: 28), as St Paul said at the Areopagus in Athens.

God is the true wisdom that never ages, the authentic wealth that never corrupts, the happiness to which every man aspires in the depths of his heart. This truth, that passes through the Wisdom Books and re-emerges in the New Testament, comes to fulfilment in the existence and teaching of Jesus.

[Pope Benedict, homily 3 November 2008]

1. An innumerable host of "wise virgins" like those praised in the Gospel parable we have just heard, have known, throughout the Christian centuries, how to await the Bridegroom with their lamps, well stocked with oil, to participate with him in the feast of grace on earth, and of glory in heaven. Among them, today shines before our gaze the great and beloved Saint Catherine of Siena, splendid flower of Italy, most resplendent gem of the Dominican Order, star of unparalleled beauty in the firmament of the Church, whom we honour here on the sixth centenary of her death, which occurred on a Sunday morning, about the third hour, on 29 April 1380, while the feast of Saint Peter the Martyr, whom she loved so much, was being celebrated.

Happy to be able to give you a first sign of my lively participation in the centenary celebration, I cordially greet all of you, dear brothers and sisters, who, to worthily commemorate the glorious date, have gathered in this Vatican Basilica, where the ardent spirit of the great Sienese woman seems to hover. I greet in a special way the Master General of the Friars Preachers, Father Vincent de Couesnongle, and the Archbishop of Siena, Monsignor Mario Ismaele Castellano, the main promoters of this celebration; I greet the members of the Dominican Third Order and of the Ecumenical Association of the Catholics, the participants in the International Congress of Catholics Studies, and all of you, dear pilgrims, who have travelled so many roads of Italy and Europe to unite yourselves in this centre of Catholicity, on such a beautiful and significant feast day.

2. Today, we look to St Catherine first of all to admire in her what immediately struck those who approached her: the extraordinary richness of her humanity, in no way obscured, but rather increased and perfected by grace, which made her almost a living image of that true and healthy Christian "humanism", the fundamental law of which is formulated by Catherine's brother and teacher, St Thomas Aquinas, in the well-known aphorism: "Grace does not suppress, but supposes and perfects nature" (St Thomas, Summa Theologia, p. 4). Thomas, Summa Theologiae, I, q. 1, a. 8, ad 2). The full-sized man is the one who is realised in the grace of Christ.

When, in my ministry, I insist on drawing everyone's attention to the dignity and values of man, which must be defended, respected and served today, it is above all of this nature that came forth from the hands of the Creator and was renewed in the blood of Christ the Redeemer that I speak: a nature that is good in itself, and therefore healable in its infirmities and perfectible in its gifts, called to receive that "more" that makes it share in the divine nature and in "eternal life". When this supernatural element is grafted into man and can act on him with all its force, we have the prodigy of the 'new creature', which in its transcendent elevation does not annul, but makes richer, denser, firmer everything that is purely human.

Thus our saint, in her nature as a woman endowed with imagination, intuition, sensitivity, volitional and operative vigour, communicative capacity and strength, willingness to give of herself and to service, is transfigured, but not impoverished, in the light of Christ who calls her to be his bride and to mystically identify with him in the depths of 'interior knowledge', as well as to commit herself to charitable, social and even political action, among the great and the small, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant. And she, almost illiterate, becomes capable of making herself heard, and read, and taken into consideration by governors of cities and kingdoms, by princes and prelates of the Church, by monks and theologians, by many of whom she is even revered as 'teacher' and 'mother'.

She is a prodigious woman, who in that second half of the 14th century shows in herself what a human creature is capable of, and - I insist - a woman, the daughter of humble dyers, when she knows how to listen to the voice of the only shepherd and master, and nourish herself at the table of the divine Bridegroom, to whom, as a 'wise virgin', she has generously consecrated her life.

It is a masterpiece of the renewing and elevating grace of the creature to the perfection of holiness, which is also the full realisation of the fundamental values of humanity.

3. Catherine's secret in responding so meekly, faithfully and fruitfully to the call of her divine Bridegroom can be grasped from the same explanations and applications of the parable of the 'wise virgins' that she makes several times in her letters to her disciples. Particularly in the one sent to a young niece who wants to be a 'bride of Christ', she lays down a small summary of spiritual life, which applies especially to those who consecrate themselves to God in the religious state, but is of guidance and direction to all.

"If you want to be a true bride of Christ," writes the saint, "you better have the lamp, the oil and the light."Do you know what is meant by this, my child?".

And here is the symbolism of the lamp: "By the lamp is meant the heart, which must resemble a lamp. Thou seest well that the lamp is wide above, and narrow below: and so is our heart made, to signify that we must always have it wide above, by holy thoughts, holy imaginations, and continual prayer; with the memory always turned to remembering the benefits of God, and especially the benefit of the blood by which we have been recompensed...".

"I also told you that the lamp is narrow below: so also is our heart, to signify that it must be narrow towards these earthly things, neither desiring them nor loving them disorderly, nor coveting them in greater quantity than God wants to give us, but we must thank him always, admiring how sweetly he provides for us, so that we never lack anything..." (Letter 23).

In the lamp you need oil. "The lamp would not be enough if there were no oil in it. And by oil is meant that sweet little virtue of deep humility.... Those five foolish virgins, glorying solely and vainly in the integrity and virginity of the body, lost the virginity of the soul, because they did not bring with them the oil of humility..." (Ibid).

"Finally, it is necessary for the lamp to be lit and for the flame to burn in it: otherwise it would not be enough for us to see. This flame is the light of the most holy faith. I say living faith, because the saints say that faith without works is dead..." (Ibid; cf. Letters 79, 360).

Throughout her life, Catherine actually nourished the lamp of her heart with great humility, and kept the light of faith, the fire of charity, and the zeal of good works done for the love of God burning, even in the hours of tribulation and passion, when her soul reached its greatest conformation to Christ crucified, until one day the Lord celebrated the mystical wedding with her in the small cell where she lived, made all resplendent by that divine presence (cf. Life, nos. 114-115).

If men today, and especially Christians, could rediscover the wonders that can be known and enjoyed in the "inner cell", and indeed in the heart of Christ! Then, yes, man would find himself, the reasons for his dignity, the foundation of his every value, the height of his eternal vocation!

4. But Christian spirituality does not exhaust itself in an intimistic circle, nor does it push towards an individualistic and egocentric isolation. The elevation of the person takes place in the symphony of the community. And Catherine, who keeps the cell of her home and heart to herself, has lived since her youth in communion with so many other children of God, in whom she feels the mystery of the Church vibrate: with the friars of St Dominic, to whom she is united in spirit even when the bell calls them in choir, at night, for matins; with the capes of Siena, among whom she is admitted for the exercise of works of charity and the common practice of prayer; with her disciples, who grow to form around her a cenacle of fervent Christians, who welcome her exhortations to the spiritual life and the incitements to renewal and reform that she addresses to all in the name of Christ; and one can say with the entire 'mystical body of the Church' (cf. Dialogue, can. 166), with whom and for whom Catherine prays, works, suffers, offers herself, and finally dies.

His great sensitivity to the problems of the Church of his time is thus transformed into a communion with the 'Christus patiens' and the 'Ecclesia patiens'. This communion is at the origin of the same outward activity, which at a certain moment the saint is driven to carry out first with charitable action and the lay apostolate in her city, and soon on a broader level, with commitment on a social, political, ecclesial scale.

In any case, Catherine drew from that inner source the courage for action and that inexhaustible hope that sustains her even in the most difficult hours, even when all seems lost, and allows her to influence others, even at the highest ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith and the charm of her person completely offered to the cause of the Church.

At a meeting of Cardinals in the presence of Urban VI, according to the account of Blessed Raymond, Catherine "showed that divine Providence is always present, especially when the Church suffers"; and she did so with such ardour that the pontiff finally exclaimed: "What has the vicar of Jesus Christ to fear, if the whole world were to turn against him? Christ is more powerful than the world, and it is not possible for him to abandon his Church!" (Vita, n. 334).

5. That was an exceptionally serious moment for the Church and the Apostolic See. The demon of division had penetrated the Christian people. Discussions and fights were breaking out everywhere. In Rome itself there were those who plotted against the Pope, not without threatening him with death. The people were rioting.

Catherine, who did not cease to hearten pastors and faithful, felt however that the hour had come for a supreme offering of herself, as a victim of expiation and reconciliation together with Christ. And so he prayed to the Lord: "For the honour of your name and for the sake of your holy Church, I will gladly drink the cup of passion and death, as I have always wished to drink; you are my witness, since, by your grace, I began to love you with all my mind and with all my heart" (Ibid., no. 346).

From then on it began to deteriorate rapidly. Every morning of that Lent of 1380, "she went to the church of St Peter, prince of the apostles, where, having heard mass, she remained long in prayer; she did not return home until the hour of vespers", exhausted. The next day. early in the morning, "starting from the street known as Via del Papa (today St Clare's Street), where she was at home, between Minerva and Campo dei Fiori, she went swiftly to St Peter's, making a journey to tire even a healthy man" (Ibid., no. 348; cf. Letter 373).

But at the end of April, he could no longer get up. He then gathered his spiritual family around his bed. In her long farewell, she declared to her disciples: 'I commit life, death and everything into the hands of my eternal Spouse.... If it pleases him that I should die, hold firm, my dear children, that I have given my life for the holy Church, and this I believe by the exceptional grace which the Lord has granted me' (Ibid., no. 363).

Shortly afterwards she died. She was but 33 years old: a beautiful youth offered to the Lord by the 'wise virgin' who had come to the end of her waiting and service.

We are gathered here, six hundred years since that morning (Ibid., no. 348), to commemorate that death and especially to celebrate that supreme offering of life for the Church.

My dear brothers and sisters, it is consoling that you have come in such great numbers to glorify and invoke the saint on this auspicious occasion.

It is fitting that the humble Vicar of Christ, like so many of his predecessors, should inspire, precede and guide you in paying homage of praise and thanksgiving to her who loved the Church so much, and who worked and suffered so much for her unity and renewal. And I did so wholeheartedly.

Now let me give you a final remembrance, which is meant to be a message, an exhortation, an invitation to hope, a stimulus to action: I take it from the words that Catherine addressed to her disciple Stefano Maconi and to all her companions in action and passion for the Church: "If you will be what you must be, you will set fire to the whole of Italy..." (Letter 368). (Letter 368); indeed, I would add: in the whole Church, in the whole world. Humanity needs this 'fire' even today, and indeed perhaps more today than yesterday. May Catherine's word and example awaken in so many generous souls the desire to be flames that burn and that, like her, are consumed in order to give their brothers and sisters the light of faith and the warmth of charity "that does not fail" (1 Cor 13:8).

[Pope John Paul II, homily VI centenary s. Catherine of Siena, 29 April 1980]

Today we celebrate the feast of St Catherine of Siena, Co-Patroness of Italy. This great figure of a woman drew from communion with Jesus the courage of action and that inexhaustible hope that sustained her in the most difficult hours, even when all seemed lost, and enabled her to influence others, even at the highest civil and ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith. May her example help each one to know how to unite, with Christian consistency, an intense love for the Church with an effective solicitude in favour of the civil community, especially in this time of trial. I ask Saint Catherine that she protect Italy during this pandemic; and that she protect Europe, because she is the patroness of Europe, that she protect all of Europe so that it may remain united.

[Pope Francis, greetings after the General Audience 29 April 2020]

(Jn 3:1-8)

Jn introduces the Gospel passage with the highly representative Jewish leader, insisting on the imperfection of believing in prodigies that only grasp the outward side.

On the contrary, it seems to emphasise that the devotion-show so coveted by religious leaders only arouses deviant expectations and ambiguous hearts (2:18-25).

In the fourth Gospel, the notable represents precisely the Jews intrigued by the figure of Jesus [called Jews because they were related to the Judaizers of the first communities].

Some of them question themselves and do not silence the questions, but remain perplexed - because they are educated to other messianic, peremptory and clamorous expectations.

In fact, they cultivated the whole issue concerning the Kingdom of God (vv.3.5) in an approximate and conformist manner.

In addition, Jesus teaches that all speculation does not bring good results for life in the Spirit.

Our profound experience is not generated from what woman and man devise or do for God, from their possibilities - as assumed in ancient religions.

We must rely on the Grace that enters the scene, overturning petty hopes - in this way, not relying on our own measures, skills and dexterity; nor on thoughts, as established as they are inadequate.

The new Rabbi makes it clear that to understand the Mystery one must shake off the outer book of the Law, and embark on an experience of ideal and practical transmutation, like a Birth - alongside a regenerating Agent.

Christ prompts Nicodemus to make the leap from normal traditional devotion, with its reasonable intentions and expectations, to the adventure of Faith that grasps, dreams and maps out the future, surpassing the habitual chain of expectations.

One does not understand the Newness of God according to common knowledge, starting with the patriarchs - or by reading it in the watermark of a normative, albeit sharable.

The new order of existence is superior to all dexterity, restraint, and resilience. That which is born from the flesh is, however, subject to all boundaries.

Vice versa, the path 'from above' creates a new personality, thanks to which we are enabled to correspond perfectly to the Calling by Name, which propose itself again wave after wave in an increasing and dissimilar manner.

Recreated by the indestructible Life that Comes, we too are enabled to generate something similar to the same Nature that gives birth to us. As sparks somehow conforming to the divine: similis sibi similem parit.

Precisely: the too normal is unable to redefine the codes of a new look, and of the inconceivable space of unknown love.

What does not coincide with the inherited ideas is actually activating the new developments.

What is contrary to established customs, or fashions, is preparing another world, a different person, another trail to follow.

The Kingdom is not set up: it is welcomed - because it always throws us off guard.

The relationship with the God of religions usually comes up with static and reassuring recipes, but the experience of Faith in Christ convinces “by Way” that each stage must instead correspond to another genesis.

Indeed, the thorny trials are all called to a leap of over-nature; to sprout again.

Birth in the Spirit does not happen once and for all: only then will living not be a reward, nor perishing a punishment.

For we have become like a Wind.

[Monday 2nd wk. in Easter, April 28, 2025]

(Jn 3:1-8)

Jn introduces the Gospel passage with the very representative Jewish leader, insisting on the imperfection of believing in prodigies. They only grasp the outward side.

Indeed, he seems to emphasise that the religion-show so coveted by the religious leaders called Jews, because they were akin to the Judaizers of the first communities, arouses only deviant expectations and ambiguous hearts (2:18-25).

Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a prominent person, a leader among the early religious leaders, and even a member of the Sanhedrin [supreme court], which, however, recognises in Christ a messenger from God.

In the fourth Gospel, the notable represents precisely the Jews who were intrigued by the figure of Jesus. Some of them question and do not silence their questions, but remain perplexed - because they were educated to other messianic, peremptory and clamorous expectations.

Indeed, the authorities cultivated the whole issue concerning the 'Kingdom of God' (vv.3.5) in an approximate and conformist manner. [The expression so frequent in the Synoptics - 'kingdom of heaven' in Mt - is only found in this passage of the Fourth Gospel].

But it is only a point of support, because Jesus teaches that all speculations do not bring good results for life in the Spirit, which is not generated from what man devises or does for God, from his possibilities - as in religions.

We must rely on Grace, which enters the scene by overturning petty hopes - in this way, not relying on our own measures, skills and dexterity; nor on thoughts, which are as established as they are inadequate.

The new Rebbe makes it clear that to understand the Mystery we must shake off the outer book of the Law, and undertake an experience of ideal and practical transmutation, like a Birth - alongside a regenerating Agent.

Christ stimulates Nicodemus to make the leap from normal traditional religiosity, with its reasonable intentions and expectations, to the adventure of Faith that grasps, dreams and traces the future, surpassing the habitual chain of expectations.

One does not understand the Newness of God according to ancient knowledge, starting with the patriarchs - or by reading it in the watermark of a normative, albeit sharable, standard.

The new order of existence is superior to all capacities, all holdings and resiliences. That which is born from the flesh is in any case subject to too many boundaries.

Conversely, the path from above creates a new personality, by which we are enabled to correspond perfectly to the Calling by Name, which repeats itself wave after wave in increasing and dissimilar ways.

Recreated from the indestructible Life that Comes, we too are enabled to generate something like the same Nature that gives birth to us. As sparks that somehow conform to the divine: similis sibi similem parit.

Exactly: the too normal is unable to redefine the codes of a new look, and of the inconceivable space of unknown love.

It is not a question of changing banners, or 'cutting something' and mortifying oneself more. Rather, integrating and shining, changing beliefs.

What does not coincide with the inherited ideas is actually activating the new developments.

That which is contrary to established customs, or fashions, is preparing another world, a different person, a new calling (in the same personal vocation), another trail to follow.

It is no longer the God of religions, everything still and always to be achieved with arrangements, agility in the smallest details, and chiselled rhythms, accumulating merits according to clichés.

The Kingdom is not set up: it is welcomed - because it always bewilders us.

So it cannot be predetermined: it is impossible to set it up on the basis of our genius, muscles, virtues, perfections. We receive Him as a free gift and without 'due' prerequisites.

The God who comes without warning calls us to listen, to know what is unbelievable - to allow ourselves to be saved in an unthinkable way, then to be taken by surprise by the facts that Providence brings.

And there to stay, until the next news.

Jesus invites Nicodemus to scrutinise the reality of the soul and the events as a global sphere, of overall energies that draw together in paradoxical synergy, to recover the opposite sides - all of them useful.

Innate forces that are activated by attunements and reciprocal ways, making themselves infallible guides: cosmic outside and acutely divine within us.

The recoveries that Jesus makes through the quality of life of his own and of the communities generate in the one who is in the 'night' of doubt (v.2) an initial search and dedication, but they do not arouse active Faith.

In short, one does not understand God from arguments, but from the experience of involvement wave after wave; recreating, from the accepted Gift of one's own history, in the sign of the times.

We must lay aside the reassuring certainties of the normal religious catechism, and open heart and hand to the reality that comes like a tide - not to put us on the defensive, but to ride it.Throwing ourselves into the life of the Spirit retrieves us, but it supplants and overrides the organisation of the settled synagogues; it is not within the reach of complacent mechanisms or impersonal balances.

At most we understand its intrinsic course - the fullness of humanisation, in the creaturely plan - not its Origin and Goal.

Humanity, in its voluntarist plan and even in its good intentions, is unable to solve the real problems. It cannot give itself salvation; only manners - initiating at the same time processes of communion and individuation.

This is the new restlessness and the 'night' of questions that we, like Nicodemus, experience, practising teaching and works according to the norm - which do not convey a sense of fullness of being, indeed despite great promises seem to attract precisely sadness.

It is the Spirit of oneness that dominates the chaos, that shapes heaven and earth, and takes possession of the eminent characters of the First Testament, prompting them to perform actions in favour of the emancipation of the people - acting with contagious power.

But resting "as a dove" - a figure of a force no longer aggressive - on Jesus in Baptism (Jn 1:32), he initiates a new Creation, the reconciled Man, capable of fulfilling his vocation.

Of course, what characterises this Wind is freedom, not control. 

It acts energetically on us, but we do not act on Him. We cannot affect it. Only set the sails according to its direction, and look at it with new eyes.

Even in difficulties, the Gift of the Spirit prepares us for another Birth. Then the Word of Jesus announces an upheaval that goes to the root of the common pious life.

The relationship with the God of religions usually comes up with static and reassuring recipes, but the experience of Faith in Christ convinces "by Way" that each stage must instead correspond to another genesis.

Indeed, thorny trials are all called to a leap of supra-nature; to germinate again.

Birth in the Spirit does not happen once and for all: only then will living not be a prize, nor perishing a punishment.

For we have become like a Wind.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you accept the surprise? Do you feel it as a revelation of the Spirit's action? How do you react to the novelties that the apostolate proposes? On what occasion have you perceived that you are born again?

The Gospel presents to us a person by the name of Nicodemus, a member of the Sanhedrin of Jerusalem who sought out Jesus by night. He was a well-to-do man, attracted by the Lord's words and example, but one who hesitated to take the leap of faith because he was fearful of others. He felt the fascination of this Rabbi, so different from the others, but could not manage to rid himself of the conditioning of his environment that was hostile to Jesus, and stood irresolute on the threshold of faith. 

How many people also in our time are in search of God, in search of Jesus and of his Church, in search of divine mercy, and are waiting for a "sign" that will touch their minds and their hearts! 

Today, as then, the Evangelist reminds us that the only "sign" is Jesus raised on the Cross:  Jesus who died and rose is the absolutely sufficient sign. Through him we can understand the truth about life and obtain salvation. 

This is the principal proclamation of the Church, which remains unchanged down the ages.
The Christian faith, therefore, is not an ideology but a personal encounter with the Crucified and Risen Christ. From this experience, both individual and communitarian, flows a new way of thinking and acting:  an existence marked by love is born, as the saints testify.

[Pope Benedict, homily 26 March 2006]

1. Nicodemus said to him: "How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter his mother's womb a second time and be born again?" (John 3, 4).
Nicodemus' question to Jesus expresses well the restless wonder of man before the mystery of God, a mystery that he discovers in his encounter with Christ. The whole dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus reveals the extraordinary richness of meaning of every encounter, even that of man with another man. The encounter is in fact the surprising and real phenomenon by which man comes out of his original solitude to face existence. It is the normal condition through which he is led to grasp the value of reality, of the people and things that constitute it, in a word, of history. In this sense it is comparable to a new birth.
In John's Gospel, Christ's encounter with Nicodemus has as its content the birth to the definitive life, that of the Kingdom of God. But in the life of every man, is it not encounters that weave the unexpected and concrete fabric of existence? Are they not at the basis of the birth of that self-awareness capable of action, which alone allows a life worthy of the name of man?
In the encounter with the other, man discovers that he is a person and that he must recognise the equal dignity of other men. Through significant encounters, he learns to know the value of the constituent dimensions of human existence, first and foremost those of religion, family and the people to which he belongs.
2. The value of being with its universal connotations - the true, the good, the beautiful - presents itself to man sensitively incarnated in the decisive encounters of his existence.
In conjugal affection, the encounter between lover and beloved, which finds fulfilment in marriage, begins with the perceptible experience of beauty embodied in the 'form' of the other. But being, through the attraction of the beautiful, asks to express itself in the fullness of authentic goodness. That the other be, that his good be realised, that the destiny traced out for him by the providential God be fulfilled, is the living and disinterested desire of every person who truly loves. The desire for lasting good, capable of generating and regenerating itself in children, would not be possible if it did not rest on truth. The attraction of beauty cannot be given the consistency of a definitive good without the search for self-truth and the will to persevere in it.
And going on: how could one be a fully realised man without the encounter, which takes place in the depths of oneself, with one's own land, with the men who have built its history through prayer, testimony, blood, genius and poetry? In turn, the fascination for the beauty of the homeland, and the desire for truth and goodness for the people who continually 'regenerate' it, increase the desire for peace, which alone makes the unity of the human race viable. The Christian is educated to understand the urgency of the ministry of peace by his encounter with the Church, where the people of God live that my predecessor Paul VI defined '. . . an ethnic entity sui generis'.
Its history has defied time for two thousand years now, leaving unaltered, despite the miseries of the people who belong to it, its original openness to truth, goodness and beauty.
3. But sooner or later man realises, in dramatic terms, that of such multiform and unrepeatable encounters he does not yet possess the ultimate meaning, capable of making them definitively good, true, beautiful. He intuits in them the presence of being, but being as such eludes him. The good to which he feels attracted, the true that he knows how to affirm, the beautiful that he knows how to discover are in fact far from satisfying him. Structural destitution or unquenchable desire parade themselves before man even more dramatically, after the other has entered his life. Made for the infinite, man feels himself a prisoner of the finite!
What journey can he still make, what other mysterious sortie from his inner self can he attempt, who has left his original solitude to go towards the other, seeking definitive fulfilment? Man, committed with genuine seriousness to his human experience, finds himself faced with a tremendous aut aut aut: to ask an Other, with a capital A, who rises on the horizon of existence to reveal and make possible its full fulfilment, or to withdraw into himself, into an existential solitude in which the very possibility of being is denied. The cry of demand or blasphemy: that is what is left!
But the mercy with which God has loved us is stronger than any dilemma. It does not stop even in the face of blasphemy. Even from within the experience of sin, man can always and again reflect on his metaphysical frailty and come out of it. He can grasp the absolute need for that Other with a capital A, who can forever quench his thirst! Man can rediscover the path of invocation to the Author of our salvation, that he may come! Then the soul surrenders to God's merciful embrace, finally experiencing, in this decisive encounter, the joy of a hope "that does not disappoint" (Rom 5:5).
[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 16 November 1983].

There are people - we too, very often - who cannot live in the light because they are accustomed to the dark. The light blinds them, they are unable to see. They are humans who are like bats, which only know how to move about at night. And we too, when we are in sin, are in this state: we cannot tolerate the light. It is more convenient for us to live in darkness. The light hits us in the face, it makes us see what we do not want to see. What’s worse is that the eyes of the soul, the more they live in darkness, the more they grow accustomed to it, and become ignorant of what light is. One loses a sense of light through growing more accustomed to the darkness. And many human scandals, so much corruption, prove this. Those who are corrupt do not know what the light is, they do not know. We too, when we are in a state of sin, distance ourselves from the Lord and become blind. We feel better when we are in the darkness and we move about in this way, without seeing, like the blind, as best we can.

Let us allow the love of God, who sent Jesus to save us, enter into us, and may the light that Jesus brings (see v. 19), the light of the Spirit, enter into us and help us to see things with God’s light, with the true light and not the shadows that the lord of darkness gives us.

Two things, today: the love of God in Christ, in the crucifix, in daily life. And the question we can ask ourselves every day: “Do I walk in the light or do I walk in the darkness? Am I a child of God or have I ended up like a poor bat?”

[Pope Francis, from: St Marta homily 22 April 2020 (on Jn 3:16-21)]

Jn 20:19-31 (24-31)

The Gospel passage has a liturgical flavour, but the question we glimpse in the watermark is crude. We too want «to see Him».

How to believe without having seen?

It is the most common question starting from the third generation of believers, who not only hadn’t known the Apostles, but many of them not even subsequent pupils.

In particular: how do we go from «seeing»… to «believing» in a defeated, even subjected to torture?

There is an authentic Church, but held together by fear (v.19).

Not only because the arrest warrant always hangs over the real witnesses.

Also out of fear of confrontation with the world, or inability to dialogue.

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside the barred doors.

He does not withdraw into himself; he does not dread the encounter, the confrontation with life that pulsates and comes.

In this sense he is «said to be the twin» [δίδυμο] of each one - and of Jesus.

Our context resembles that of the Johannine realities of Asia Minor, lost in the immensity of the Roman Empire; small churches sometimes seduced by its attractions.

Ephesus in particular had hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.  Commercial emporium, banking center and major cosmopolitan city [whose centerpiece was of course the great Temple of Artemis - wonder of the ancient world] was the fourth city of the empire.

Distractions were many.

And already from the first generations of faithful the routine began to take over: the fervor of the beginnings was dying out; participation became sporadic.

Under Domitian, believers suffered social marginalization, discrimination.

Even today, one of the decisive elements of the ability to manifest the Risen One Present remains the direct encounter with sisters and brothers, within a living fraternity.

People who welcome surprises and encourage the ability to think and debate; who are themselves and make others breathe.

Women and men who spend their material resources and wisdom, according to particular history and sensitivity.

Where each one as he is and where is - real in the round, not dissociated from himself - becomes food for others with the crumbs he has.

Here then is the «recognize»: it’s a question not of obedience to an abstract world, but of personal Likeness.

It’s a matter of attuning the “physiognomy” and our small «actions» with the Source of Love consumed to the end [our «finger» and its «Hands»;  our «hand» and his «pierced Side»].

Even with our limitation, 'by entering into the wounds'. And by attraction, Faith will spring forth spontaneously (v.28).

Thus (vv.29-31 and 21:25) Jn invites each one to write his own personal Gospel.

When our works are at least a little the same as Christ's, everyone will ‘see’ Him.

So is there any evidence that Jesus lives?

Of course. He concretely manifests Himself in an assembly of non-conformist people, who are themselves; endowed with the capacity for autonomous thinking skills.

«Twins» of Him and of Thomas.

People Free to live in the world; outside locked doors - to listening, descending, serving.

And doing it with conviction: personally, without forcing or hysteria.

We too want to «see» Him.

[2nd Easter Sunday (of Divine Mercy), April 27, 2025]

(Jn 20:19-31)

The Manifestation, the Spirit, the remission

(Jn 20:19-23)

The Johannine Pentecost does not suffer any temporal delay (v.22) yet the Lucan account also emphasises the link with Easter, of which it is but a further specification.

Pentecost is not a matter of a date, but an event that happens without ceasing, in the assembled assembly; where a joy-filled Peace is made present, which founds the Mission.

Jesus did not assure easy life. But the "closed doors" indicate that the Risen One has not returned to his former existence: he has been introduced into the divine condition, into a total form of life.

The complete configuration of his being is not in the order of flesh and bones; it eludes our senses.

"Resurrection of the flesh" is not equivalent to the improvement of previous conditions. From a man [as from a seed] there has blossomed a form of life that subsists in God himself.

The disciples rejoice at seeing the wounds (v.20). The reaction is not surprising: it is the perception-vertigo of Presence, springing up and pouring out from inner senses.

The Risen One who reveals Himself is the same Jesus who delivered the gift of life, in the Spirit.

The Father's World bears his Name - that is, the whole of his history, all real.

The heavenly world no longer remains that of religions. It is not exclusive, nor fanciful or abstract; neither is it sterilised.

The Manifestation is placed on "the one of the Sabbaths" (v.19) to say that the disciples can meet and see the Risen One every time they come together on the Lord's Day.

Thanks to the Gift of the Spirit (v.22) his people are sent on Mission, to continue and expand the Master's work - insisting in particular on the work of remission of sins (v.23).

At the time, there was a widespread notion that men acted badly and allowed themselves to be contaminated by idols, because they were driven by an unclean instinct that began to manifest itself at an early age.

One was under the illusion that one could conquer or at least keep such an evil spirit at bay with the study of the Torah - but it was easy to see the failures: the indications of the Law, though right, did not give one the strength to tread that path.

After so many failures even of kings and the entire priestly class, God himself was expected to come, precisely to free us from impurities, through the outpouring of a good impulse.

Throughout the ancient world [also in classical culture: especially Ovid] people wondered about the meaning of this creaturely block.

Inwardly, humanity found itself united and torn between intuition and desire for goodness, and inability to implement it (cf. Rom 7:15-19).

No religion or philosophy had ever realised that it is in the discomfort and imperfection that the most precious mouldable energies, our uniqueness, and the non-conformist solution to problems lie.

Through the mouth of the Prophets, God had promised the gift of a new heart - of flesh and not of stone (Ez 36:25-27).

An outpouring of the Spirit that would renew the world, enliven the desert and make it fruitful.

On Easter Day the prophecies were fulfilled.

The "breath" of Christ recalls the moment of Creation (Gen 2:7; cf. Ez 37:7-14).

We are at the origin of a new humanity of mothers and fathers who generate - now able to make only life appear, eliminating death from the face of the earth.

Jesus creates the new man, no longer a victim of the invincible forces that lead him to evil, despite his profound aspirations.

He conveys a resourceful, clear, alternative, self-confident energy that spontaneously impels to goodness.

Where this Spirit comes, sin is annihilated.

It was the first ecclesial experience: the unmistakable action of divine power, which became present and operative in fearful and unregarded people.

Throughout the book of Acts of the Apostles, the protagonist is precisely the impetuous Wind of the Spirit.

So far, the concept of forgiveness of sins was missing in Jn. But the meaning of the expression in v.23 is not strictly sacramental.

Neutralising and defeating defaults affects everyone who gets involved in the work of improving life in the world.

In short, we are called to create the conditions so that by tilling the soil of hearts, everyone opens up to divine action.

Conversely, the inability to do good drags on: in this way, sin is not 'remitted'.

The Shalôm received by the disciples is to be announced by them and transmitted to the world.

It is a Peace that is not the worldly fruit of weighed and cunning compromises: the only powerful means to be used is forgiveness.

Not so much for the sake of tranquillity and 'permanence', but to introduce unknown powers, to accentuate life, to bring out the aspects we have not given space to; to convey a sense of adequacy and freedom.

In each one and for all times, the Church is called to make the Lord's complete and personal Gratis effective.As a Gift in the Spirit: without ever 'holding back' (v.23) the problems, nor making them paradoxical protagonists of life [even of assembly].

Such is the priestly, royal and prophetic dimension of the fraternal community. Such is its Newness.

Victory of the Risen One, Church of free people

Without hysteria

(Jn 20:24-31)

The passage has a liturgical flavour, but the question we glimpse in the watermark is stark. We too want to "see it".

How could one believe without having seen?

And even how could the identification of the sufferer with the bliss experienced, and the divinity itself, go without saying?

It is the most common question from the third generation of believers, who had not only not got to know the Apostles, but many of them not even their pupils.

The evangelist assures us: compared to the first witnesses of the Resurrection, our condition is not at all disadvantaged, on the contrary: more open and less subject to conditioning or special circumstances.

We must go deeper than the immediate experience.

Even the direct disciples struggled, trying to switch to another vocabulary and grammar of revelation; and from 'seeing', to 'believing'.

There are unfortunately common traits, e.g. the search for Magdalene in the places of death. Or here the carefully barred doors, where one does not enter without forcing the closures - but above all significant gaps.

In particular, we reiterate the most burning question. How do we go from 'seeing' ... to 'believing' in a defeated, even subjected to torment?

We do not believe, just because there are truthful witnesses.

We are certain that life supersedes death, because we have 'seen' first-hand; because we have gone through a personal recognition.

For He does not lead the way, but repeatedly 'in between' (vv.19.26).

In the collection of the Manifestations of the Risen One [the so-called "Book of the Resurrection"] Jn designates the conditions of Easter Faith.

He expounds on the witnessing experiences of the first churches (morning and evening, and eight days later) and of the disciples who accepted the missionary mandate.

Then as now, perceiving the realities hidden to the mere eye, internalising the readiness to make an exodus to the peripheries, depends on the depth of Faith.

Nor does it follow that we are willing to gamble our lives, to build a kingdom with values reversed from the common, ancient, imperial religious values.

By the time the Thomas episode is written, the dimension of the eighth day [Dies Domini] already had a prevailing configuration, as opposed to the radically Judaizing early Messianic Sabbath.

"Shalôm" is, however, still understood in the ancient sense: it is not a wish, but the present fulfilment of the divine Promises.

Messianic "Peace" would have evoked the undoing of fears, deliverance from death; reconciliation with one's life, the world, and God.

"Shalôm" - here - comes to surprise us: it comes from the gift of self carried to the depths; beyond, the capabilities.

The wounds are part of the character of the Risen One.

Any image that does not make explicit the signs of the excessive gratuitousness of the new kingdom inaugurated by Christ [even the gilded bronze sculpture in the Nervi Hall] is misleading.

Joy comes from the perception of the Presence 'beyond' biological life.

Our happiness is diminished and lost if we lose the Witness of life - through whom every slightest gesture or state of mind (even fear) becomes unveiling, meaning, intensity of relationship.

Reaching out into the world, the Sent Ones embrace the same mission as Jesus: that all may be saved.

And the gift of the working Spirit is precisely like the beginning of a new creation.

In fact, the Johannine Pentecost springs from the unprecedented and genuine perspective of salvation: loving, serene, not 'whole', nor forced.

On closer inspection, according to the book of Acts, Peter's preaching provokes a ruckus of conversions. In Jn everything is conversely discreet: no roar or fire and storm; nothing appears from outside, nor does it remain external.

They are apostles empowered to open locked doors, and to arrange the conditions of gratuitousness.

This with passive rather than active virtues; e.g. 'forgiveness', where there is none. 

In this way, all gratuitousness to lift people out of any problems, so that good triumphs over evil and life over death.

All in the concrete, therefore through a process that demands time; like walking a Way.

Intensity of a very 'different' nature, to which our contemplation alone is suited - in comparison with the more propagandistic and less collected literature of Acts 2, where the reflections of unbelief and doubt disappear.

As if the identity of the Crucified and Risen Jesus was no problem at all!

And in the Fourth Gospel, the concept of 'forgiveness of sins' has so far been missing.

But precisely, it is necessary to move from ocular "vision" to Faith.The Son's new way of life is known in the life of the Church, but it is best and fully accessible only to those who, although a little inside and a little outside, do not remain in the closures.

Thomas is chosen by Jn as the junction point between generations of believers.

Like everyone else, he is not an indifferent sceptic: he is not afraid of the world, rather he wants to verify, to scrutinise well.

In him Jesus launches his appreciation towards future believers, who will recognise his divine status on the basis of their own experience - as profound as it is intensely lived.

There is perhaps an elite part of the authentic Church, yet held together by fear (v.19).

Not only because the warrant of arrest always hangs over the true witnesses. Also out of fear of confrontation with the world, or out of incapacity for dialogue.

Even today: fear of culture, of science, of Bible studies, of emancipation, of philosophical, ecumenical, interreligious confrontation; and so on.

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside the barred doors.

It does not retreat and does not fear the encounter, the relationship with life that pulsates and comes.

In this sense it is 'said twin' [δίδυμο] of each one - and of Jesus.

Our context resembles that of the small Johannine realities of Asia Minor, lost in the immensity of the Roman empire; sometimes seduced by its attractions.

Ephesus in particular had hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.

A commercial emporium, banking centre and major cosmopolitan city [the centrepiece of which was of course the great Temple of Artemis - wonder of the ancient world] it was the fourth city of the empire.

There were many distractions.

Already in the first generations of believers, routine began to take over: the fervour of the beginnings was fading; participation became sporadic.

Under Domitian, believers also suffered marginalisation and discrimination.

Some believers were then disappointed by the closed and monologue attitude of the community leaders. Others by ambiguous internal grey areas and a mixture of compromises (especially of those in charge) that discouraged the most sensitive.

Even today, one of the discriminating elements in the ability to manifest the Risen One Present remains the direct encounter with brothers and sisters, within a living solidarity.

Coexistence not held hostage by confined circles, integrating members only on the nomination of those already in office.

People were surprised and challenged in their ability to think and debate.

Women and men who are themselves, and make others breathe.

Not indoctrinated and plagiarised gullible people - or spineless sophisticates.

Sisters and brothers who spend their material resources and wisdom, according to their particular history and sensitivity.

Where everyone as he is and where he is - real in the round, not disassociated from himself - makes food for others with the crumbs he has.

Here then is 'recognition': it is a question not of obedience to an abstract world, but of personal likeness.

It is a matter of attuning our physiognomy and our little 'actions' to the Source of Love consumed to the full [our 'finger' and its 'Hands'; our 'hand' and its 'pierced side'].

Even with our limitations, we 'enter into the wounds'. By attraction, Faith will spring forth spontaneously (v.28).

Thus (vv.29-31 and 21:25) John invites each one to write his own personal gospel.

When our works are at least a little the same as Christ's, everyone will 'see' him.

Is there, then, evidence that Jesus lives?

Of course, He manifests Himself concretely in an assembly of non-conformist people; who are themselves.

Souls endowed with the capacity for autonomous thought. "His and Thomas' 'twins'.

Free creatures to be in the world; outside the locked doors - to listen, to come down, to serve.

And do so with conviction: personally, without forcing or hysteria.

We too want to 'see' Him.