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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Lk 9:22-25)

Yesterday we underlined how the worm of vanity in the search for the esteem leads to hypocrisy and ostentation.

We ask ourselves: what makes the Father intimate? Carrying the Cross - in the sense of being a devoted and obedient child? Is it necessary to give up living, accepting the various evils?

No, communion with God follows from a freely assumed commitment. That scaffold is not a requirement of the Father who would like to be ‘compensated’ at least by someone.

There are not many ways to choose from, but only two: victory or gift, and every moment is a time of decision.

Templates are no longer needed.

A comparison between the parallel texts in Greek (for example) of Mk 8:34;  Mt 10:38;  Lk 9:23 and 14:27 [Jn 12:26] makes us understand the meaning of «taking up» or «lifting up the cross» for a disciple who relives Christ and expands him in human history.

God doesn’t give any cross, nor are his sons called to "bear" it or even "offer it"! The Cross must be actively ‘taken’, because the friend of Jesus puts honor at stake.

Its vital wave reaches complete gift also under the profile of public consideration.

After the court sentence, the condemned man had to lift the horizontal arm of the gallows on his shoulders.

It was the most heartbreaking moment, because of maximum loneliness and perception of failure.

Thus the unfortunate and already shamed person had to proceed to the place of the crucifixion by passing between the crowd who, for religious duty, mocked and beat up the wretch, considered cursed by God.

Jesus doesn’t propose the Cross to us in the running sense of a necessary endurance of the inevitable setbacks of life which through asceticism chisels souls more capable of sketching [today we say: ‘resilient’].

Compared to the usual proposals of healthy discipline - external and internal - equal for all and useful only to keep the situation good, the young Rabbi is on the other hand suggesting a much more radical behavior.

The Lord proposes an asceticism totally different from that of religions - even overturned.

The believer must give up ‘reputation’. It’s the essential and decisive starting point of the person of Faith.

Those who are tied to their good names, roles, to the character to be played, to the job description, to the level acquired, will never resemble the Son.

Neither will those who do not expand the tribal dimension of the "family” interest.

From the earliest times, the announcement of the authentic Messiah created divisions: the ‘sword of his Person’ separated the story of each one from the world of values ​​of the clan to which they belong or from the idea of ​​respectability, even national.

The same thing happens today where someone proclaims the Gospel as it is, and attempts to renew the jammed mechanisms of the institutional, customary configuration.

In doing so, taking on the Cross of consequent mockery.

The separation and very clear cut with the criteria of greatness and success is for the new Unity, persecuted: the one that acts as a crossroads of Truth without duplicity.

Trying for believing.

It seems a meaningless dream, but this is what unites the Church to her Lord.

A crucifying path, where one gains what is lost - first of all in consideration.

[Thursday after the Ashes, March 6, 2025]

(Lk 9:22-25)

Yesterday we emphasised how the worm of vanity in the pursuit of others' esteem leads to hypocrisy and ostentation.

Today, too, the Word - a solemn and pressing call to a decisive choice - invites totality; to live Lent with uprightness, not exhibiting too much external ceremony.

We ask ourselves: What makes one intimate with the Father? Carrying the Cross - in the sense of being a devoted and obedient son? Is it necessary to renounce life, accepting the various evils?

No, communion with God follows from a freely made commitment. That scaffold is not a requirement of the Father who would like to be at least compensated by someone.

And no fatalism: it is not a matter of enduring life's inevitable setbacks.

It is not this that unites, it is not coping that binds the people of God who recognise themselves in the Crucified One.

There are not many paths to choose from, but only two: victory and revenge, or perception and gift.

Every moment is a time of decision. Models are no longer needed.

Man's authenticity is not his greatness, but fidelity in the love that he realises.

Such empathy and can place us on paths of persecution and derision, instead of accommodating or blatant results (on the safe and immediate).

But true humanity no longer needs to ascend, to transcend the limits of matter [dualist mysticism].

Nor do we need to identify ourselves - almost sacramentally - with the forces of deep but depersonalising cosmic processes [mystery religions].

We are not called to perfect ourselves through the observance of a law or traditions down to the minutiae [phariseeism].

Nor is our vocation to religiously escape the abyss of the world's misery, in the hope of a goal approaching to solve everything [Apocalypticism].

The Lord's Anointed was expected as sovereign, priest, thaumaturge, warrior, judge, prophet...

Jesus ascending Calvary is quite another paradigm: a different way of being and an entirely different Way.

To the title of Messiah, Luke prefers that of "Son of Man" (v.22): an expression with which the Master actually designated himself.

The Son of Man is the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity.

Incredibly, He does not feel hindered by frequenters of bad places, rather by the habitués of the sacred precincts.

In the Gospels, the growth and humanisation of the people is not thwarted by sinners, but by those who would have the ministry of making the Face of God known to all.

Therefore, the character of the apostle is not identified with celebrities and social figures. Conversely, with the life of Jesus of Nazareth - the public rebel against official authorities, and condemned.

Here, moving downwards, we meet God.

That of the cross was in fact the torture imposed on marginalised criminals. In this lies the 'denial of self' (v.23), which unfortunately in the history of spirituality has undergone very bad interpretations.

The believer is not recognised by heroic and magnificent deeds, or asceticism; nor by excellence and visibility of office, or charisma and credit, weight and prestige - but by social choice, which brings discredit to one's reputation.

The missionary is not singled out because of extraordinary qualities, but because of smallness.

He who only appreciates great things - even astounding and blatant from a "spiritual" point of view - loves strength. And they do not build the new kingdom.

A comparison of the parallel texts in the Greek language (e.g.) of Mk 8:34; Mt 10:38; Lk 9:23 and 14:27 [Jn 12:26] gives insight into the meaning of "taking up" or "lifting up the cross" for a disciple who relives Christ and expands Him in human history.

God does not give any cross, nor are children called to "bear" it, or even "offer" it!

The Cross is to be actively taken up, for the friend of Jesus stakes his honour on it.

The eminent and crystal-clear Source, the intimate life-wave of its founding Eros, allows the total gift to be attained even under the trait of public consideration.

After the court sentence, the condemned man had to carry the horizontal arm of the gallows on his shoulders.

It was the most harrowing moment, because it was one of utmost loneliness and perceived failure.

The hapless and already shamed man proceeded to the place of execution passing between two wings of the crowd who, out of religious duty, mocked and battered the wretch - deemed cursed by God.

Jesus does not propose the Cross in the corrupt sense of a necessary endurance of life's inevitable adversities, which then through asceticism chisels out souls more capable of sketching... [today we say: resilient].

Compared to the usual tirades on healthy discipline - exterior and interior - the same for everyone (and useful only to keep the situation good, of privilege) Lk is conversely suggesting a much more radical behaviour.

The Lord proposes an asceticism totally different from that of the religions - even inverted. 

The believer renounces reputation. It is the essential, diriment cue of the character of the Faith.

He who is tied to his good reputation, to the roles, to the character to play, to the task, to the level he has acquired, will never resemble the Lord.

Neither will he who does not dilute the tribal dimension of 'family' interest.

From the earliest times, the proclamation of the authentic Messiah created divisions: the sword of his Person separated each person's affair from the world of values of the clan to which he belonged or from the idea of respectability, even national respectability.

Today, the same thing happens where someone proclaims the Gospel as it is, and attempts to renew the jammed mechanisms of the habitual, outdated and faux-blue-blooded institution on the ground.

Carrying the cross of consequent mockery.

A clean break and cut with the criteria of greatness and success, for the new, persecuted Unity: the one that is the crossroads of Truth without duplicity.

Try it to believe.

It sounds like a meaningless dream, but this is what unites the Church to her Lord: a crucifying path, where one gains what one loses - first and foremost in consideration.

To internalise and live the message:

What changes do you feel as your Calling?

Does reputation and opinion in the community favour or block you? For what reason?

Is your 'family' closed in on itself or does it facilitate the opening of horizons?

Does this attitude of the Christians of that time apply also to us who are Christians today? Yes, it does, we too need a relationship that sustains us, that gives direction and content to our lives. We too need access to the Risen one, who sustains us through and beyond death. We need this encounter which brings us together, which gives us space for freedom, which lets us see beyond the bustle of everyday life to God’s creative love, from which we come and towards which we are travelling.

Of course, if we listen to today’s Gospel, if we listen to what the Lord is saying to us, it frightens us: “Whoever of you does not renounce all that he has and all links with his family cannot be my disciple.” We would like to object: What are you saying, Lord? Isn’t the family just what the world needs? Doesn’t it need the love of father and mother, the love between parents and children, between husband and wife? Don’t we need love for life, the joy of life? And don’t we also need people who invest in the good things of this world and build up the earth we have received, so that everyone can share in its gifts? Isn’t the development of the earth and its goods another charge laid upon us? If we listen to the Lord more closely, and above all if we listen to him in the context of everything he is saying to us, then we understand that Jesus does not demand the same from everyone. Each person has a specific task, to each is assigned a particular way of discipleship. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is speaking directly of the specific vocation of the Twelve, a vocation not shared by the many who accompanied Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem. The Twelve must first of all overcome the scandal of the Cross, and then they must be prepared truly to leave everything behind; they must be prepared to assume the seemingly absurd task of travelling to the ends of the earth and, with their minimal education, proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a world filled with claims to erudition and with real or apparent education – and naturally also to the poor and the simple. They must themselves be prepared to suffer martyrdom in the course of their journey into the vast world, and thus to bear witness to the Gospel of the Crucified and Risen Lord. If Jesus’s words on this journey to Jerusalem, on which a great crowd accompanies him, are addressed in the first instance to the Twelve, his call naturally extends beyond the historical moment into all subsequent centuries. He calls people of all times to count exclusively on him, to leave everything else behind, so as to be totally available for him, and hence totally available for others: to create oases of selfless love in a world where so often only power and wealth seem to count for anything. Let us thank the Lord for giving us men and women in every century who have left all else behind for his sake, and have thus become radiant signs of his love. We need only think of people like Benedict and Scholastica, Francis and Clare of Assisi, Elizabeth of Hungary and Hedwig of Silesia, Ignatius of Loyola, Teresa of Avila, and in our own day, Mother Teresa and Padre Pio. With their whole lives, these people have become a living interpretation of Jesus’s teaching, which through their lives becomes close and intelligible to us. Let us ask the Lord to grant to people in our own day the courage to leave everything behind and so to be available to everyone.

Yet if we now turn once more to the Gospel, we realize that the Lord is not speaking merely of a few individuals and their specific task; the essence of what he says applies to everyone. The heart of the matter he expresses elsewhere in these words: “For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake, he will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?” (Lk 9:24f.). Whoever wants to keep his life just for himself will lose it. Only by giving ourselves do we receive our life. In other words: only the one who loves discovers life. And love always demands going out of oneself, it always demands leaving oneself. Anyone who looks just to himself, who wants the other only for himself, will lose both himself and the other. Without this profound losing of oneself, there is no life. The restless craving for life, so widespread among people today, leads to the barrenness of a lost life. “Whoever loses his life for my sake … ”, says the Lord: a radical letting-go of our self is only possible if in the process we end up, not by falling into the void, but into the hands of Love eternal. Only the love of God, who loses himself for us and gives himself to us, makes it possible for us also to become free, to let go, and so truly to find life. This is the heart of what the Lord wants to say to us in the seemingly hard words of this Sunday’s Gospel. With his teaching he gives us the certainty that we can build on his love, the love of the incarnate God. Recognition of this is the wisdom of which today’s reading speaks to us. Once again, we find that all the world’s learning profits us nothing unless we learn to live, unless we discover what truly matters in life.

[Pope Benedict, homily Vienna 9 September 2007]

We adore you O Christ and we praise you, for by your cross you have redeemed the world. Alleluia.

Dear brothers and sisters.

1. As representatives of the people of God in the Archdiocese of Halifax, Cap Breton, all of Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, you are gathered in this acclamation of the liturgy with Archbishop Hayes, with the other bishops and with the Church throughout the world. The Catholic Church celebrates today the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross of Christ. As the crucified Christ is lifted up by faith into the hearts of all who believe, so he lifts up those same hearts with a hope that cannot be destroyed. For the cross is the sign of redemption, and in redemption is contained the promise of resurrection and the beginning of new life: the lifting up of human hearts.

At the beginning of my office in the See of St Peter I sought to proclaim this truth with the encyclical Redemptor Hominis. In this same truth I wish today to be united with all of you in adoration of the cross of Christ:

"Do not forget the works of God" (cf. Ps 78:7).

2. To conform ourselves to the acclamation of today's liturgy, let us carefully follow the path traced by these holy words in which the mystery of the Exaltation of the Cross is announced to us.

Firstly, in these words is contained the meaning of the Old Testament. According to St Augustine, the Old Testament contains what is fully revealed in the new. Here we have the image of the bronze serpent to which Jesus referred in his conversation with Nicodemus. The Lord himself revealed the meaning of this image by saying: "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life" (John 3: 14-15).

During the journey of the people of Israel from Egypt to the Promised Land - because the people complained - God sent an invasion of poisonous snakes because of which many perished. When the survivors realised their guilt, they asked Moses to intercede with God: "Pray to the Lord to drive these serpents away from us" (Nm 21:7).

Moses prayed and received this command from the Lord: "Make yourself a snake and put it on a pole. Whoever after being bitten shall look upon it and remain alive" (Nm 21:8). Moses obeyed the order. The bronze snake placed on the pole represented salvation from death for all those who were bitten by snakes.

In the book of Genesis, the serpent was the symbol of the evil spirit. But now, by a surprising inversion, the bronze serpent hoisted in the desert becomes a representation of Christ, hoisted on the cross.

The feast of the Exaltation of the Cross recalls to our minds, and in a way, makes present, the elevation of Christ on the cross. The feast is the elevation of the redeeming Christ: whoever believes in the crucified Christ will have eternal life.

The elevation of Christ on the cross constitutes the beginning of the elevation of humanity through the cross. And the ultimate fulfilment of the elevation is eternal life.

3. This Old Testament event is recalled in the central theme of St John's Gospel.

Why is the cross and the crucified Christ the door to eternal life?

Because in him - in the crucified Christ - God's love for the world, for man, is manifested in its fullness.

In the same conversation with Nicodemus Christ says: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world but that the world might be saved through him (Jn 3:16-17).

The salvation of the Son of God through his elevation on the cross has its eternal source in love. It is the love of the Father who sends the Son; he offers his Son for the salvation of the world. At the same time it is the love of the Son who does not 'judge' the world, but sacrifices himself for love of the Father and for the salvation of the world. By giving himself to the Father through the sacrifice of the cross, he offers himself at the same time to the world: to each individual person and to the whole of humanity.

The cross contains within itself the mystery of salvation, because in the cross love is lifted up. This means the elevation of love to the highest point in world history: in the cross, love is sublimated and the cross is at the same time sublimated through love. And from the height of the cross, love descends to us. Yes: "The cross is the deepest stooping of divinity upon man. The cross is like a touch of eternal love on the most painful wounds of man's earthly existence" (Ioannis Pauli PP. II, Dives in Misericordia, 8).

4. To the Gospel of John, the liturgy of today's feast day adds the presentation made by Paul in his letter to the Philippians. The apostle speaks of an emptying of Christ through the cross; and at the same time of the elevation of Christ above all things; and this also had its beginning in the cross itself:

"Jesus Christ . . . stripped himself by assuming the condition of a servant and becoming similar to men, and having appeared in human form, he humbled himself even more by becoming obedient unto death, and death on a cross. For this reason God exalted him and gave him a name that is above every other name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Phil 2:6-11).

The cross is the sign of Christ's deepest humiliation. In the eyes of the people of that time, it was the sign of an infamous death. Only slaves could be punished with such a death, not free men. Christ, on the other hand, willingly accepts this death, death on the cross. Yet this death becomes the principle of the resurrection. In the resurrection, the crucified servant of Yahweh is lifted up: he is lifted up over all creation.

At the same time, the cross is also lifted up. It ceases to be the sign of an infamous death and becomes the sign of resurrection, that is, of life. Through the sign of the cross, it is not the servant or the slave who speaks, but the Lord of all creation.

5. These three elements of today's liturgy, the Old Testament, the Christological hymn of Paul and the Gospel of John, together form the great richness of the mystery of the triumph of the cross.

As we are immersed in this mystery with the Church, which throughout the world today celebrates the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, I wish to share with you, in a special way, its riches, dear brothers and sisters of the Archdiocese of Halifax, dear people of Nova Scotia, Edward Island and all of Canada.

Yes, I wish to share with you all the riches of that holy cross - which, as the banner of salvation - was planted on your soil 450 years ago. Since then the cross has triumphed in this land and, through the collaboration of thousands of Canadians, the message of deliverance and salvation of the cross has been spread to the ends of the earth.

6. At the same time I wish to pay tribute to the missionary contribution of the sons and daughters of Canada who have given their lives in this way "that the word of the Lord may spread, and be glorified as it is also among you" (2 Thess 3:1). I pay homage to the faith and love that motivated them, and to the power of the cross that gave them the strength to go forth and fulfil Christ's command: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 28:20).

And in paying homage to your missionaries, I likewise pay homage to the communities throughout the world that have welcomed their message and marked their graves with the cross of Christ. The Church is grateful for the hospitality accorded them a burial place, from where they await the final exaltation of the holy cross in the glory of resurrection and eternal life.

I express deep gratitude for the zeal of the Church in Canada and I thank you for your prayers, contributions and various activities through which you support the missionary cause. In particular, I thank you for your generosity towards the Holy See's mission of helping societies.

7. Evangelization remains forever the sacred heritage of Canada, which truly has a glorious history of missionary activity at home and abroad. Evangelisation must continue to be exercised through personal commitment, preaching hope in the promises of Jesus and through the proclamation of fraternal love. It will always be connected with the planting and building of the Church and will have a profound relationship with development and freedom as an expression of human progress. At the heart of this message, however, is an explicit proclamation of salvation in Jesus Christ, that salvation brought about by the cross. Here are the words of Paul VI: "Evangelisation will always contain - even as the basis, centre and summit of its dynamism - a clear proclamation that, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, dead and risen, salvation is offered to every man, as God's own gift of grace and mercy" (Pauli VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 27).

The Church in Canada will be itself if it proclaims among all its members, in word and deed, the exaltation of the cross, and if, at home and abroad, it is an evangelising Church.

Although these words come from me, there is another who speaks to the hearts of young people everywhere. It is the Holy Spirit himself, and it is he who presses upon each one of us, as a member of Christ, to lead us to embrace and bring the good news of God's love. But to some the Holy Spirit is proposing the command of Jesus in its specific missionary form: go and recruit disciples from all nations. Before the whole Church, I, John Paul II, once again proclaim the absolute value of the missionary vocation. And I assure all those called to ecclesiastical and religious life that our Lord Jesus Christ is ready to accept and make fruitful the special sacrifice of their lives, in celibacy, for the exaltation of the cross.

8. Today the Church, in proclaiming the Gospel, relives in a certain way the whole period that begins on Ash Wednesday, reaches its climax during Holy Week and at Easter, and continues in the following weeks until Pentecost. The feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is like the compendium of the entire Paschal Mystery of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The cross is glorious because on it Christ has lifted himself up. Through it, Christ has elevated man. On the cross, every man is truly elevated to his full dignity, to the dignity of his ultimate end in God.

Through the cross, moreover, the power of love is revealed that elevates man, that exalts him.

Truly the whole of God's plan for the Christian life is condensed here in a wonderful way: God's plan and its meaning! Let us adhere to God's plan and its meaning! Let us rediscover the place of the cross in our lives and in our society.

Let us speak of the cross in a special way to all those who suffer, and convey its message of hope to young people. Let us continue to proclaim its saving power to the ends of the earth: "Exaltatio Crucis!": the glory of the holy cross!

Brothers and sisters: "Never forget the works of the Lord"! Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, Homily Halifax (Canada) 14 September 1984]

After concluding the dialogue with the Apostles, Jesus addressed everyone, saying: “If anyone wants to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow me” (v. 23). This is not an ornamental cross or an ideological cross, but it is the cross of life, the cross of one’s duty, the cross of making sacrifices for others with love — for parents, for children, for the family, for friends, and even for enemies — the cross of being ready to be in solidarity with the poor, to strive for justice and peace. In assuming this attitude, these crosses, we always lose something. We must never forget that “whoever loses his life [for Christ] will save it” (v. 24). It is losing in order to win. Let us remember all of our brothers and sisters who still put these words of Jesus into practice today, offering their time, their work, their efforts and even their lives so as to never deny their faith in Christ. Jesus, through His Holy Spirit, gives us the strength to move forward along the path of faith and of witness: doing exactly what we believe; not saying one thing and doing another. On this path Our Lady is always near to us: let us allow her to hold our hand when we are going through the darkest and most difficult moments.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 19 June 2016]

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

 God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Short Commentary:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Summary on request: Short commentary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole