Simon, a Pharisee and rich 'notable' of the city, holds a banquet in his house in honour of Jesus. Unexpectedly from the back of the room enters a guest who was neither invited nor expected: a notorious prostitute. The unease of those present is understandable, but the woman does not seem to mind. She advances and, rather furtively, stops at the feet of Jesus. His words of forgiveness and hope for all, even the prostitutes, have reached her ear; she is moved and stands there silently. She bathes Jesus' feet with her tears, dries them with her hair, kisses them and anoints them with a sweet perfume. In doing so, the sinner wants to express her affection and gratitude towards the Lord with gestures that are familiar to her, even if socially censured.

Faced with general embarrassment, it is Jesus himself who addresses the situation: 'Simon, I have something to tell you'. "Go ahead, Master," the landlord replies to him. We are all familiar with Jesus' response in a parable that could be summed up in the following words that the Lord basically says to Simon: 'See? This woman knows she is a sinner and, moved by love, she asks for understanding and forgiveness. You, on the other hand, presume to be righteous and are perhaps convinced that you have nothing serious to be forgiven'.

The message from the Gospel passage is eloquent: to those who love much, God forgives all things. He who trusts in himself and his own merits is as if blinded by his ego and his heart hardens in sin. Instead, he who recognises himself as weak and a sinner entrusts himself to God and from Him obtains grace and forgiveness.

[Pope Benedict, Audience to the participants in the course of the Apostolic Penitentiary, 7 March 2008]

2. In the light of Revelation, however, we know with consoling certainty that God understands human weakness and is ready to forgive. He is a Father rich in love and mercy. This is eloquently demonstrated to us in the account of the "sinful woman" who, repentant and confiding, honours Jesus in the house of Simon the Pharisee.

To Simon Jesus says, referring to the sinful woman: "Her many sins are forgiven, because she has loved much!"; and to the woman: "Your faith has saved you; go in peace!". Jesus affirms with divine authority the forgiveness of sins. He simultaneously demands repentance and a change of life.

3. Dear Brothers and Sisters! Let us always keep alive in us a sense of trust in God's goodness and mercy. There is no sin that God does not want to forgive, when one is repentant and resolved never to sin again. The repentance of the Magdalene and the parable told by Jesus to Simon are in this respect very rich in meaning. Decisive, of course, must be the condemnation of evil, but understanding and patience is needed towards the one who sins. The liturgy thus invites us to be messengers of truth and mercy, of forgiveness and joy.

We find ourselves at the Grotto of the Virgin, which recalls that of Lourdes. We recall the definition that St Bernadette gave of sin: "Sinner is he who loves sin!". Invited to go to the Grotto of Massabielle, to ask and possibly obtain from Our Lady a cure for her illness, Bernadette replied: "Lourdes is not for me! Lourdes is for poor sinners!".

Let us invoke Mary Most Holy for the salvation of sinners; let us pray that faith in the Lord, who awaits his children with infinite love and mercy, may never fail in believers.

"Blessed is the man whose guilt is forgiven and whose sin is forgiven!" (Ps 32)

[Pope John Paul II, homily 18 June 1995]

Today we would like to stop and wonder at an aspect of mercy which is well presented in the passage we heard from the Gospel of Luke. It deals with something that happened to Jesus while he was the guest of a Pharisee called Simon. He wanted to invite Jesus to his home because he had heard others speak well of him as a great prophet. And while they were seated at a meal, there entered a woman, known throughout the city to be a sinner. This woman, without saying a word, threw herself at Jesus’ feet and burst into tears; her tears bathed the feet of Jesus and she dried them with her hair, then kissed them and anointed them with the perfumed oil she had brought with her.

Two figures stand out: Simon, the zealous servant of the law, and the anonymous sinful woman. While the former judges others based on appearances, the latter, through her actions, expresses the sincerity of her heart. Simon, though having invited Jesus, does not want to compromise himself or entangle his life with the Master; the woman, on the contrary, entrusts herself completely to him with love and veneration.

The Pharisee cannot fathom why Jesus would let himself be “contaminated” by sinners. He thinks that were Jesus a real prophet he would recognize them and keep his distance in order to keep from being sullied, as if they were lepers. This attitude is typical of a certain way of understanding religion, and it is based on the fact that God and sin are radically opposed. The Word of God, however, teaches us to distinguish sin from the sinner: one should not have to compromise with sin, but sinners — that is, all of us! — are like the sick, who need to be treated. And in order to heal them the doctor needs to get close, examine them, touch them. Naturally, the sick person, in order to be healed, must recognize that he needs the doctor!

Between the Pharisee and the sinful woman, Jesus sides with the latter. Jesus, free of the prejudices that hinder the expression of mercy, lets her do it. He, the Holy One of God, lets her touch him without fear of contamination. Jesus is free, because he is close to God who is the merciful Father. And this closeness to God, the merciful Father, gives Jesus freedom. Furthermore, by entering into a relationship with the sinner, Jesus puts an end to that state of isolation to which the ruthless judgment of the Pharisee and of her fellow citizens — the same who exploited her — had condemned her: “Your sins are forgiven” (Lk 7:48). The woman can now go “in peace”. The Lord sees the sincerity of her faith and conversion; thus before everyone he proclaims: “Your faith has saved you” (v. 50). On one side there is the lawyer’s hypocrisy, on the other, the sincerity, humility and faith of the woman. We are all sinners, but too often we fall into the temptation of hypocrisy, of believing ourselves to be better than others and we say: “Just look at your sin...”. We all need, however, to look to our own sins, our own shortcomings, our own mistakes, and to look to the Lord. This is the lifeline of salvation: the relation between the “I” of the sinner and the Lord. If I feel I am righteous, there is no saving relationship.

At this point, an even greater wonder assails all those at the table: “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” (v. 49). Jesus does not answer explicitly, but the conversion of the sinner is before the eyes of all and it shows that from him there emanates the power of the mercy of God, which is able to transform hearts.

The sinful woman teaches us the connection between faith, love, and recognition. “Many sins” have been forgiven her and therefore she has loved much; “but he who is forgiven little, loves little” (v. 47). Even Simon himself has to admit that the one who is guiltiest loves more. God has wrapped each and every one of us in the same mystery of mercy; and from his love, which always comes to us first, we learn how to love. As St Paul recalls: “in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to his grace which he lavished on us” (Eph 1:7-8). In this passage, “grace” is virtually synonymous with mercy, and we are told that God has “lavished” it upon us, meaning that it far exceeds our expectations, since it brings to fulfillment God’s saving plan for each one of us.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us recognize the gift of faith, let us give thanks to the Lord for his love which is so great and unmerited! Let us allow the love of Christ be poured into us: the disciple draws from this love and founds himself on it; from this love each one of us can be nourished and fed. Thus, in the grateful love that we in turn pour out upon our brothers and sisters, in our homes, in our families and in our societies, the mercy of the Lord may be communicated to everyone.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 20 April 2016]

Exaltation of the Holy Cross [Sunday, 14 September 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us!  Contemplating the Mystery of the Cross, we discover the sweetness of a love that is born where life seems to die. As he dies crucified, Jesus reveals forever the definitive victory of Love and Mercy.

*First Reading from the Book of Numbers (21:4–9)

The Book of Exodus and the Book of Numbers recount similar episodes: when the people, freed from slavery in Egypt, walk towards the Promised Land, they must face daily life in the desert, a totally inhospitable place. As slaves in Egypt, they were sedentary, certainly not accustomed to long marches on foot, but they had a master who fed them, so they did not die of hunger as they did in the desert, where they began to regret the famous onions of Egypt.  They were tempted by discouragement due to hunger, thirst and fear of all the inconveniences of the desert, and, disheartened, they began to murmur against God and Moses for leading them to die in the desert. The Lord then sent poisonous snakes against the people, and many Israelites died. At this point, the people repented, acknowledged their sin, and prayed to the Lord to remove the snakes. God commanded Moses to make a snake (tradition says of bronze) so that, when fixed on a pole, it could heal anyone who looked at it. It is interesting to consider how Moses reacted: he did not question whether or not the snakes came from God, but his aim was to lead this distrustful people to an attitude of trust, whatever the difficulties, because it was not so much the snakes as their lack of trust in God that was slowing down their journey to freedom. To educate them in the faith, he uses a familiar practice: the worship of a healing god represented by a bronze serpent on a pole (probably the ancestor of the caduceus, today's symbol of medicine). It was enough to look at the fetish to be healed. Moses does not destroy the tradition, but transforms it: Do as you always have done, but know that it is not the serpent that heals you but the Lord, and do not be confused because one God has freed you from Egypt, and by looking at the serpent, you are actually worshipping the God of the Covenant. Centuries later, the Book of Wisdom would comment: 'Those who turned to look at it were saved, not by the object they looked at, but by you, Saviour of all' (Wis 16:7). The struggle against idolatry, magic and divination runs through the entire biblical history and perhaps continues to this day. That bronze serpent, a sign to lead people to faith, came to be considered a magical object again, and for this reason King Hezekiah destroyed it definitively, as we read in the Book of Kings (2 Kings 18:4).

*Responsorial Psalm (77/78:3-4, 34-39)

In the responsorial psalm, taken from Psalm 77/78, we have a summary of the history of Israel, which unfolds in the relationship between God, who is always faithful, and that fickle people, who are forgetful but still aware of the importance of memory, so they repeat: 'We have heard what our fathers told us, we will repeat it to the next generation'. Faith is transmitted when those who have experienced salvation can say, 'God has saved me,' and in turn share their experience with others. It will then be up to their community to remember and preserve this testimony because faith is an experience of salvation shared over time. The Jewish people have always known that faith is not intellectual baggage, but the common experience of God's ever-renewed gift and forgiveness. This psalm expresses all this: in seventy-two verses, it recalls the experience of salvation that founded the faith of Israel, namely, liberation from Egypt, and for this reason, the psalm contains many allusions to the Exodus and Sinai. Listening in the biblical sense means adhering wholeheartedly to the Word of God, and if a generation neglects to continue to bear witness to its faithfulness to God, the chain of transmission of faith is broken. Often over the centuries, fathers have confessed to their children that they have murmured against God despite his acts of salvation. This is what the psalm speaks of and accuses the people of unfaithfulness and inconstancy: "They flattered him with their mouths, but murmured with their tongues; their hearts were not steadfast towards him, and they were not faithful to his covenant" (vv. 36-37). This is idolatry, the target of all prophets because it is the cause of humanity's misfortune. Every idol sets us back on the path to freedom, and the definition of an idol is precisely what prevents us from being free. Marx said that religion is the opium of the people, revealing in a crude way the power and manipulation that any religion, whatever it may be, can exert over humanity. Superstition, fetishism and witchcraft prevent us from being free and learning to freely assume our responsibilities, because they make us live in a regime of fear. Every idolatrous cult distances us from the living and true God: only the truth can make us free men. Even the excessive worship of a person or an ideology makes us slaves: just think of all the fundamentalisms and fanaticisms that disfigure us, and money too can very well become an idol. In other verses that are not part of this Sunday's liturgy, the psalm offers a very eloquent image, that of a deformed bow: the heart of Israel should be like a bow stretched towards its God, but it is crooked. And it is precisely within this ingratitude that Israel had its most beautiful experience: that of God's forgiveness, as the psalm clearly states: "Their heart was not steadfast toward him; they were not faithful to his covenant. But he, being merciful, forgave  their iniquity instead of destroying them" (v. 38). This description of  God's tender mercy shows that the psalm was written at a time when the revelation of the God of love had already deeply penetrated the faith of Israel. 

NOTE The great assembly at Shechem organised by Joshua had precisely this purpose: to revive the memory of this people who were the object of so much concern, but so often inclined to forget (Joshua 24: see the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time B): after reminding the assembled tribes of all God's works since Abraham, he said to them: "Choose today whom you will serve: either the Lord or an idol." And the tribes made the right choice that day, even if they would soon forget it. The transmission of faith is therefore like a relay race: "I have passed on to you what I myself have received," Paul says to the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:23), and the liturgy is the privileged place for this witness and for this reviving of memory in the sense of gratitude that comes from experience.

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (2:6-1)

This passage from Paul is read every year on Palm Sunday and now on the Feast of the Glorious Cross: this means that the two celebrations have something in common, which is the close link between Christ's suffering and his glory, between the lowering of the cross and the exaltation of the resurrection. Paul says it clearly: 'Christ humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross... Therefore God exalted him above all else' (vv. 8-9). The expression 'therefore' indicates a strong link and contrast between humiliation and exaltation, but we must not read these sentences in terms of reward, as if Jesus, having behaved admirably, received an admirable reward. This could be the 'tendency' or rather the 'temptation', but God is love and knows no calculations, exchanges, or quid pro quo, because love is free. The wonder of God's love is that it does not wait for our merits to fill us, and in the Bible, men discovered this little by little because grace, as its name indicates, is free. So, if, as Paul says, Jesus suffered and was then glorified, it is not because his suffering had accumulated enough merit to earn him the right to be rewarded. Therefore, to be faithful to the text, we must read it in terms of gratuitousness. For Paul, it is clear that God's gift is free, and this is evident in all his letters, having experienced it himself. When we read, 'Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited' (v. 6), it is clear that Paul is alluding to Adam and Eve, and here Paul probably offers us a commentary on the story of the Garden of Eden: the tempter had said, 'You will be like God', and to become like God, all they had to do was disobey God. Eve reached out her hand towards the forbidden fruit and took it (the Greek labousa in theological reading is 'claimed to be like God' as if it were her right). Paul contrasts the attitude of Adam/Eve (grabbing/avenging) with that of Christ (welcoming freely, obeying). Jesus Christ was only acceptance (what Paul calls 'obedience'), and precisely because he was pure acceptance of God's gift and not vindication, he was able to let himself be filled by the Father, completely available to his gift. Jesus' choice is 'kenosis', the total emptying of himself marked by five verbs of humiliation: emptying himself, taking on the condition of a servant, becoming like men, humbling himself, becoming obedient. The cross is the abyss of annihilation (vv. 6-8), but also the climax of the second sentence of the hymn (vv. 9-11). 'God exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name' (v. 9). Jesus receives the Name that is above every name: the name 'Lord' is the name of God! To say that Jesus is Lord is to say that he is God: in the Old Testament, the title of Lord was reserved for God, as was genuflection. When Paul says, "For at the name of Jesus every knee should bend," he is alluding to a phrase from the prophet Isaiah: "Before me every knee shall bend, and every tongue shall swear allegiance" (Isaiah 45:23). The hymn concludes with 'every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father' (v. 11): seeing Christ bring love to its culmination, accepting to die to reveal the extent of God's love, we can say like the centurion: 'Truly this man was the Son of God'... because God is love.

*From the Gospel according to John (3:13-17)

The first surprise in this text is that Jesus speaks of the cross in positive, even 'glorious' terms: on the one hand, he uses the term 'lifted up' – 'the Son of Man must be lifted up' (v. 14) – and then this cross, which in our eyes is an instrument of torture and pain, is presented as proof of God's love: 'God so loved the world' (v. 17). How can the instrument of torture of an innocent person be glorious? And here lies the second surprise: the reference to the bronze serpent. Jesus uses this image because it was well known at the time. The first reading speaks at length about this event in the Sinai desert during the Exodus, following Moses. The Jews were attacked by poisonous snakes and, having a guilty conscience because they had murmured, they were convinced that this was a punishment from the God of Moses. They begged Moses to intercede, and Moses was commanded to fix a fiery (i.e., poisonous) serpent on a pole: whoever had been bitten and looked at it would live (Num 21:7-9). At first glance, it seems like pure magic, but in reality, it is exactly the opposite. Moses transforms what was until then a magical act into an act of faith. Jesus refers to this episode when speaking of himself: 'Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life' (vv. 14-15). If in the desert it was enough to look with faith towards the God of the Covenant to be physically healed, now it is necessary to look with faith at Christ on the cross to obtain inner healing. As is often the case in John's Gospel, the theme of faith returns: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life" (v. 17).  When Jesus draws a parallel between the bronze serpent raised up in the desert and his own elevation on the cross, he also reveals the extraordinary leap that exists between the Old and New Testaments. Jesus brings everything to fulfilment, but in him everything takes on a new dimension. In the desert, only the people of the Covenant were involved; now, in him, the whole of humanity is invited to believe in order to have life: twice Jesus repeats that "whoever believes in him will have eternal life". Moreover, it is no longer just a matter of external healing, but of the profound transformation of man. At the moment of the crucifixion, John writes: 'They will look upon him whom they have pierced' (Jn 19:37), quoting the prophet Zechariah who had written: "On that day I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication; they will look upon me, the one they have pierced" (Zechariah 12:10). This "spirit of grace and supplication" is the opposite of the murmuring in the desert: man is now finally convinced of God's love for him.  There are therefore two ways of looking at the cross of Christ: as a sign of human hatred and cruelty, but above all as the emblem of the meekness and forgiveness of Christ, who accepts the cross to show us the extent of God's love for humanity. The cross is the very place where God's love is revealed: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9), Jesus said to Philip. Christ crucified shows God's tenderness, despite the hatred of men. That is why we can say that the cross is glorious: because it is the place where perfect love is manifested, that is, God himself, a God great enough to make himself small in order to share the life of men despite misunderstanding and hatred: he does not flee from his executioners and forgives from the height of the Cross. Those who accept to fall to their knees before such greatness are transformed forever: "But to all who did receive him, he gave them the right to become children of God, to those who believe in his name" (Jn 1:12).

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Stubbornness

(Lk 7:31-35)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realize the enormous difference between common religious belief, and Faith.

They emancipate us by overturning positions: those who used to feel defended and secure - or on the crest of the wave [fashionable] - now seem to understand nothing of God's action in us.

As the ‘providence of the new’ makes its way in, those who are tied to stagnant or fanciful forms stubbornly try to cling to them in order to curb the authenticities - which are nonetheless rampant.

The new leaders of the people and the veterans feel lost, as they begin to measure the hollowness of their arrogance, the futility of their prestige, the childish incoherence of their pathetic pretexts.

Capricious children always complain when they don't get a prominent place in the games, or when others don't do what they themselves say.

The Baptist was an eminent herald, called to the realization of God's plan [known because of his peculiar figure, perhaps more prone to renunciation].

But the preconception of mortification did not fit: therefore, a nuisance to be rejected.

The ‘Son of man’ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; he did not make an issue of purity [so he too was an exaggerator]: to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged the equal of a demoniac; the young Rabbi who invited joy, a laxer.

For the gravediggers of the holy city, John was too demanding, Jesus too broad in ideas and behaviour.

Spoilt kids do not even agree in the game, and stubbornly stand their ground.

The incontentatible children reject every proposal: they always have to retort.

The austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

The Lord, on the other hand, lived among people, accepted invitations and did not try to appear different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible [for one sent by God].

«Yet Wisdom has been justified by all sons» (v.35 Greek text); i.e. the little ones read the sign of the times.

The 'sons' recognise divine Wisdom, they see his plan.

They grasp the plan of Salvation in the preaching of the Baptist and the Christ.

They do not have too much ‘control’ over things; they are spontaneous friends with them.

They are aware of limitations and strengths; they even learn from subordinate positions, and from dark sides; they learn from fears.

They overcome the spiritual immobility of the great experts, critical of every breeze of change, or too abstract and sophisticated.

Both of which settle themselves and rule - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

They are like puerile and uncontactable figures, who neither get up nor move: «sitting» (v.32).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the ‘chosen ones’ remain indifferent or annoyed, because they are, grasp and understand “one thing only”.

They never close their ‘character’ to open another, or to explore different sides of themselves and the world. Their souls are starched.

Instead, he who does not have a closed heart is anticipating the Coming of a new Kingdom, is grasping his own eternal face.

[Wednesday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 17, 2025]

One 'character', or the Son of Man

(Lk 7:31-35)

The Gospels break through, advance and liberate, making us realise the enormous difference between any belief and Faith.

They emancipate us by overturning positions: those who used to feel defended and secure now look like little dolls who understand nothing of God's action in us.

On the other hand, the 'great' reformers with no history and no backbone elaborate extraordinary disembodied projections, and wallow in them.

While they seek the joy of life, they always put themselves at a safe distance from any crude involvement - which (with Pope Francis) we might call 'artisanal'.

As the providence of new arrangements makes its way, those who are tied to stagnant or overly imaginative forms stubbornly try to cling to them.

Both positions seem to be made to neither bear fruit nor grow together. They stem the authenticities, which here and there flourish and spread.

The leaders of the people and the veterans feel lost, as they begin to measure the hollowness of their arrogance, the futility of their prestige, the childish incoherence of their pathetic pretexts.

In the epigraph to his commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'The eternal Name wants to be like the infant that has not yet spoken, like the chick that has not yet hatched.

Whimsical children, on the other hand, always complain when they do not get a prominent place in the games, or when others do not do as they are told.

The Baptist was an eminent herald, called to the realisation of God's plan [known because of his peculiar figure, perhaps more prone to renunciation].

But the preconception of mortification did not fit: therefore, a nuisance to be rejected.

Christ was more sympathetic, expressive and welcoming; he made no bones about purity [so he too must have been an exaggerator]: to be insulted and condemned.

The austere and penitent was judged the equal of a demoniac; the young Rabbi who invited joy, a laxer.

For the gravediggers of the holy city, John was too demanding; Jesus seemed overly broad in ideas and behaviour.

Spoilt children do not even agree in play, and stubbornly stand firm on their positions.

The incontentatible children reject every proposal: they always have something to say.

But Revelation itself goes beyond all expectation [cf. Tertio Millennio Adveniente, n.6].

Certainly, the austere way of the desert seemed unreasonable.

Instead, the Lord lived among people, accepted invitations and did not try to appear different from others - but his affable and simple style was considered too ordinary and accessible for one sent by God.

"Yet Wisdom has been justified by all her children" (v.35 Greek text) i.e. the little ones read the sign of the times.

The children recognise divine Wisdom, they see her plan.

They grasp the plan of Salvation in the preaching of the Baptist and Christ.

They do not have too much "control" over things; they are friends of them.

They are aware of limitations and strengths; they learn even from subordinate positions and dark sides; they learn from fears.

They overcome the spiritual immobility of the great experts, critical of every breeze of change, or too abstract and sophisticated.

Both of which settle and rule - generating a radically impoverished humanity.

They are like puerile and uncontactable figures who neither stand up nor move: 'sitting' (v.32).

They trample, violate, jam everything.

Everywhere, the 'chosen ones' remain indifferent or annoyed, because they are, they grasp and understand 'one thing'.

They never close their 'character' to open another, or to explore different sides of themselves and the world.

In a homily at St Martha's [on the rejection of the prophet Jonah] Pope Francis suggested to "look at how the Lord acts", as opposed to the "sick of rigidity" who have "starched souls".

The stubborn childish ones only know how to disturb frank women and men, who spontaneously express themselves in multifaceted ways because they do not have a 'small, closed heart', but 'know how to enlarge it'.

It is precisely the bold ones who are themselves completely - unpolished and glamorous - instead of reiterating hysterical platitudes and sentences, who caress their different brothers and sisters and expand life.

In doing so, they are grasping their own eternal face.

Authentic women and men of Faith anticipate the Coming of a new Kingdom.

To internalise and live the message:

Who has helped you and who has held you back in understanding your deepest desire? Simples, or well-connected scholars?

Friends who shake and care, or qualified leaders and specialists who don't even get along in their 'games' - stubborn people, who set up, lord it over, restrain, jam others?

Son of Man

"Son of man" (v.34) already designates from the OT the character of a holiness that surpasses the ancient fiction of the rulers, who piled on top of each other reciting the same script.

The masses remained dry-mouthed: whatever ruler seized power, the petty crowd remained subdued and suffocated.

The same rule was in force in religions, whose leaders lavished the people with a strong horde impulse and the contentment of the gregarious.

In contrast, in the Kingdom of Jesus there must be a lack of ranks - which is why his proposal does not match the ambitions of the religious authorities, and the Apostles' own expectations.

They too wanted to 'count'. But precisely 'Son of Man' is the person according to a criterion of humanisation, not a beast that prevails because it is stronger than the others [cf. Dan 7].

Every man with a heart of flesh - not of beast, nor of stone - is an understanding person, capable of listening, always attentive to the needs of the other, who makes himself available.

It alludes to the broad dimension of holiness; transmissible to anyone, but creative like love, therefore all to be discovered! But this is a problem, especially (it seems absurd) in devout circles.

In the Gospels, the 'Son of Man' - the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity - is not hindered by the habitués of the sacred precincts, but by the habitués of the holy precincts.

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!

In Mk 9:36-37 (cf. Mt 18:2-5; Lk 9:47-48) Jesus embraces an 8-12 year old boy who at that time counted for nothing - in fact, a house valet, a shop assistant ["paidìon"].

It is the only identification that Jesus loves and wishes to give us: that with the one who cannot afford not to recognise the needs of others.

It is a dimension of holiness without distinctive haloes: shareable, because it is linked to empathy, to spontaneous friendship towards all - women and men of all times.

Obviously: this is not a proposal compromised with doctrinaire-and-discipline religion that drives back eccentricities: much more sympathetic and lovable.

That of the Son of Man is the kind of holiness that makes us unique, not always abhorring and exorcising the danger of the unusual.

Aristotle stated that - beyond artificial petitions of principle or apparent proclamations - one only really loves oneself. Are we then like wayward children? This is no small question.

Granted and ungranted, the growth, promotion and blossoming of our qualities lies within a wise Way, a path that knows how to allow itself to encounter new states of being.

Genuine and mature love expands the boundaries of the ego lover of primacy, visibility and gain, understanding the You in the I.

Itinerary and Vector that then expands capacities and life. Otherwise in all circumstances and unfortunately at any age we will remain in the puerile game of those who scramble on the steps, to prevail.

As Pope Francis said about the mafia phenomena: "There is a need for men and women of Love, not honour!"

We read in the Tao Tê Ching (XL): 'Weakness is what the Tao uses'. And Master Wang Pi comments: 'The high has for its foundation the low, the noble has for its foundation the vile'.

Without alienating efforts, the personal flows into the plural and global, spontaneously overcoming fragmentation and dispersion:

"This universalistic perspective emerges, among other things, from the presentation that Jesus made of himself not only as 'Son of David', but as 'son of man'. The title of "Son of Man", in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), recalls the person who comes "with the clouds of heaven" (v. 13) and is an image that heralds an entirely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to Himself to manifest the true character of His messianism, as a mission destined for the whole man and every man, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters into this new kingdom, which the Church announces and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion".

[Pope Benedict, Consistory 24 November 2012].

More on the Son of Man (Pope John Paul II):

1. Jesus Christ, Son of Man and of God: this is the culminating theme of our catechesis on the identity of the Messiah. It is the fundamental truth of Christian revelation and faith: the humanity and divinity of Christ, which we will have to reflect on more fully later. For now, we would like to complete our analysis of the messianic titles already present in some way in the Old Testament and see in what sense Jesus attributes them to himself.

As for the title "Son of Man", it is significant that Jesus used it frequently when speaking of himself, while it is the others who call him "Son of God", as we shall see in the next catechesis. Instead, he called himself "Son of Man", whereas no one else called him that, except the deacon Stephen before the stoning (Acts 7:56) and the author of the Apocalypse in two texts (Acts 1:13; 14:14).

2. The title "Son of Man" comes from the Old Testament from the Book of the Prophet Daniel. Here is the text describing a night vision of the prophet: "Looking again in the night visions, behold, there appeared in the clouds of heaven one like a son of man; he came and was presented to him, who gave him power and glory and a kingdom; all peoples, nations and languages served him; his power is an everlasting power, which never fades, and his kingdom is such that it will never be destroyed" (Dan 7:13-14).

And when the prophet asks for an explanation of this vision, he receives the following answer: "The saints of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess it for ever and ever . . . then the kingdom and the power and the greatness of all the kingdoms that are under heaven shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High" (Dan 7:18, 27). The text of Daniel is about an individual person and the people. We note immediately that what refers to the person of the Son of Man is found in the words of the angel in the annunciation to Mary: "he will reign forever . . . and his kingdom will have no end" (Lk 1:33).

3. When Jesus calls himself 'Son of Man' he uses an expression from the canonical tradition of the Old Testament and also found in the Jewish apocrypha. It should be noted, however, that the expression "Son of Man" (ben-adam) had become in the Aramaic of Jesus' time an expression simply indicating "man" ("bar-enas"). Jesus, therefore, by calling himself "son of man", almost succeeded in hiding behind the veil of common meaning the messianic significance the word had in prophetic teaching. It is no coincidence, however, that if utterances about the "Son of Man" appear especially in the context of Christ's earthly life and passion, there is also no lack of them in reference to his eschatological elevation.

4. In the context of the earthly life of Jesus of Nazareth, we find texts such as: "The foxes have their dens and the birds of the air their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Matthew 8: 20); or also: "The Son of Man has come, who eats and drinks, and they say, Behold, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners" (Matthew 11: 19). At other times the word of Jesus takes on a value more strongly indicative of his power. Thus when he says: "The Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath" (Mk 2:28). On the occasion of the healing of the paralytic lowered through an opening in the roof he states in an almost defiant tone: 'Now, so that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins, I command you,' he said to the paralytic, 'get up, take up your bed and go home' (Mk 2:10-11). Elsewhere Jesus declares: "For as Jonah was a sign to those in Nineveh, so also will the Son of Man be to this generation" (Lk 11:30). On another occasion it is a vision shrouded in mystery: "A time will come when you will long to see even one of the days of the Son of Man, but you will not see him" (Lk 17:22).

5. Some theologians note an interesting parallelism between the prophecy of Ezekiel and the utterances of Jesus. The prophet writes: "(God) said to me: 'Son of man, I am sending you to the Israelites . . . who have turned against me . . Thou shalt say to them, 'Says the Lord God'" (Ez 2:3-4). "Son of man, you dwell among a race of rebels, who have eyes to see and do not see, have ears to hear and do not hear . . ." (Ez 12:2) "You, son of man . . . keep your eyes fixed on it (Jerusalem) which will be besieged . . . and you will prophesy against it" (Ez 4:1-7). "Son of man, prophesy a riddle telling a parable to the Israelites" (Ez 17:2).

Echoing the words of the prophet, Jesus teaches: "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost" (Lk 19:10). "For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:45; cf. also Mt 20:28). The "Son of Man" . . . "when he comes in the glory of the Father", will be ashamed of those who were ashamed of him and his words before men (cf. Mk 8:38).

6. The identity of the Son of Man appears in the dual aspect of representative of God, herald of the kingdom of God, prophet calling to conversion. On the other hand, he is the "representative" of men, whose earthly condition and sufferings he shares in order to redeem and save them according to the Father's plan. As he himself says in his conversation with Nicodemus: "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" (Jn 3:14-15).

It is a clear proclamation of the passion, which Jesus repeats: "And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly, and be reproved by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and then be killed, and after three days rise again" (Mk 8:31). Three times in Mark's Gospel (cf. Mk 9:31; 10:33-34) and in each of them Jesus speaks of himself as the "Son of Man".

7. By the same appellation Jesus defines himself before the tribunal of Caiaphas, when to the question: "Are you the Christ, the blessed Son of God?" he replies: "I am! And you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming with the clouds of heaven" (Mk 14:62). In these few words echoes Daniel's prophecy about the "Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven" (Dan 7:13) and Psalm 110 that sees the Lord seated at the right hand of God (cf. Ps 110:1).

8. Repeatedly Jesus speaks of the elevation of the "Son of Man", but he does not hide from his listeners that it includes the humiliation of the cross. To the objections and incredulity of the people and disciples, who well understood the magic of his allusions and yet asked him: "How then do you say that the Son of Man must be elevated? Who is this Son of Man?" (Jn 12:34), Jesus asserts: "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am and do nothing of myself, but as the Father has taught me" (Jn 8:28). Jesus states that his "elevation" by the cross will constitute his glorification. Shortly afterwards he will add: "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (John 12: 23). It is significant that at Judas' departure from the Upper Room, Jesus says "now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God also has been glorified in him" (Jn 13:31).

9. This constitutes the content of life, passion, death and glory of which the prophet Daniel had offered a pale sketch. Jesus does not hesitate to also apply to himself the character of an eternal and everlasting kingdom that Daniel had assigned to the work of the Son of Man, when he proclaims to the world: "Then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory" (Mk 13:26; cf. Mt 24:30). It is in this eschatological perspective that the Church's work of evangelisation must take place. He warns: "You will not have finished going through the city of Israel before the Son of Man comes" (Mt 10:23). And he asks: "But will the Son of Man, when he comes, find faith on earth?" (Lk 18:8).

10. If as the "Son of Man" Jesus realised by his life, passion, death and resurrection the messianic plan outlined in the Old Testament, at the same time he assumes by that same name his place among men as a true man, as the son of a woman, Mary of Nazareth. Through this woman, his Mother, he, the 'Son of God', is at the same time the 'Son of man', a true man, as the Letter to the Hebrews attests: 'He became truly one of us, in all things like us except sin' (Heb 4:5; cf. Gaudium et Spes, 22).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 29 April 1987]

“The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost”.

God excludes no one, neither the poor nor the rich. God does not let himself be conditioned by our human prejudices, but sees in everyone a soul to save and is especially attracted to those who are judged as lost and who think themselves so. Jesus Christ, the Incarnation of God, has demonstrated this immense mercy, which takes nothing away from the gravity of sin, but aims always at saving the sinner, at offering him the possibility of redemption, of starting again from the beginning, of converting [...]

Let us pray to the Virgin Mary, perfect model of communion with Jesus, to be renewed by his love, so that we too may experience the joy of being visited by the Son of God, of being renewed by his love and of transmitting his mercy to others.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 31 October 2010]

The particular circumstances of John's birth have been handed down to us by the evangelist Luke. According to an ancient tradition, it took place in Ain-Karim, before the gates of Jerusalem. The circumstances surrounding this birth were so unusual that even at that time people were asking: "What is this child to be?" (Lk 1:66). It was evident to his believing parents, neighbours and relatives that his birth was a sign from God. They clearly saw that the "hand of the Lord" was upon him. This was already demonstrated by the announcement of his birth to his father Zechariah, while he was providing priestly service in the temple in Jerusalem. His mother, Elisabeth, was already advanced in years and was thought to be barren. Even the name 'John' he was given was unusual for his environment. His father himself had to give orders that he be called "John" and not, as everyone else wanted, "Zechariah" (cf. Lk 1:59-63).

The name John means in the Hebrew language "God is merciful". Thus already in the name is expressed the fact that the newborn child would one day announce God's plan of salvation.

The future would fully confirm the predictions and events surrounding his birth: John, son of Zechariah and Elisabeth, became the "voice of one crying out in the wilderness" (Matt 3:3), who on the banks of the Jordan called people to penance and prepared the way for Christ.

Christ himself said of John the Baptist that "among those born of women no greater one has arisen" (cf. Mt 11:11). That is why the Church has also reserved a special veneration for this great messenger of God from the very beginning. An expression of this veneration is today's feast.

4. Dear brothers and sisters! This celebration, with its liturgical texts, invites us to reflect on the question of man's becoming, his origins and his destination. True, we already seem to know a great deal about this subject, both from mankind's long experience and from ever more in-depth biomedical research. But it is the word of God that always re-establishes the essential dimension of the truth about man: man is created by God and willed by God in his image and likeness. No purely human science can demonstrate this truth. At most it can come close to this truth or intuitively surmise the truth about this 'unknown being' that is man from the moment of his conception in the womb.

At the same time, however, we find ourselves witnessing how, in the name of a supposed science, man is 'reduced' in a dramatic trial and represented in a sad simplification; and so it happens that even those rights that are based on the dignity of his person, which distinguishes him from all the other creatures of the visible world, are overshadowed. Those words from the book of Genesis, which speak of man as the creature created in the image and likeness of God, highlight, in a concise yet profound way, the full truth about him.

5. We can also learn this truth about man from today's liturgy, in which the Church prays to God, the creator, in the words of the psalmist:

"Lord, you scrutinise me and know me . . . It is you who created my bowels and wove me in my mother's womb . . . you know me to the depths. When I was formed in secret . . . my bones were not hidden from thee . . . I praise thee, for thou hast made me like a wonder" (Ps 139 [138], 1. 13-15).

Man is therefore aware of what he is - of what he is from the beginning, from the womb. He knows that he is a creature that God wants to meet and with whom he wants to dialogue. More: in man, he wants to meet the whole of creation.

For God, man is a 'someone': unique and unrepeatable. He, as the Second Vatican Council says, "on earth is the only creature that God willed for itself" (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 24).

"The Lord from my mother's womb has called me; from my mother's womb he has pronounced my name" (Is 49:1); like the name of the child who was born in Ain-Karim: "John". Man is that being whom God calls by name. For God he is the created 'you', of all creatures he is that personal 'I', who can address God and call him by name. God wants that partner in man who addresses him as his own creator and Father: 'You, my Lord and my God'. To the divine "you".

7. God called John the Baptist already "in the womb" so that he might become "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness" and thus prepare the way for his Son. In a very similar way, God has also "laid his hand" on each one of us. For each of us he has a particular call, each of us is entrusted with a task designed by him for us.

In each call, which may come to us in the most diverse way, we hear that divine voice, which then spoke through John: "Prepare the way of the Lord!"(Mt 3:3).

Every man should ask himself in what way he can contribute within the scope of his work and position, to open the way for God in this world. Every time we open ourselves to God's call, we prepare, like John, the way of the Lord among men.

[Pope John Paul II, homily Eisenstaedt 24 June 1988]

There are Christians who have "a certain allergy to preachers of the word": they accept "the truth of revelation" but not "the preacher", preferring "a caged life". It happened in Jesus' time and unfortunately continues to happen today in those who live closed in on themselves, because they are afraid of the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit.

For Pope Francis, this is the teaching that comes from the readings of the liturgy celebrated on Friday morning, 13 December, in the chapel of Santa Marta. The Pontiff dwelt above all on the passage from the Gospel of Matthew (11, 16-19) in which Jesus compares the generation of his contemporaries "to those children sitting in the squares who turn to their companions and say: we played the flute and you did not dance, we sang a lament and you did not weep".

In this regard, the Bishop of Rome recalled that Christ in the Gospels "always speaks well of children", offering them as a "model of Christian life" and inviting them to "be like them to enter the kingdom of heaven". Instead, he noted, in the passage in question "it is the only time he does not speak so well of them". For the Pope, it is an image of children who are "a bit special: rude, discontented, even scornful"; children who do not know how to be happy while playing and who "always refuse the invitation of others: nothing goes well for them". In particular, Jesus uses this image to describe "the leaders of his people", defined by the Pontiff as "people who were not open to the word of God".

For the Holy Father there is an interesting aspect in this attitude: their rejection, precisely, "is not for the message, it is for the messenger". It is enough to read the Gospel passage to confirm this. "John came, who neither eats nor drinks," the Pope noted, "and they said: he has a devil. The Son of Man came, who eats and drinks, and they said: here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners'. In practice, people have always found reasons to delegitimise the preacher. Just think of the people of that time, who preferred 'to take refuge in a somewhat elaborate religion: in moral precepts, like the Pharisees; in political compromise, like the Sadducees; in social revolution, like the Zealots; in Gnostic spirituality, like the Essenes'. All of them, he added, "with their own neat, well-made system", but which does not accept "the preacher". That is why Jesus refreshes their memory by reminding them of the prophets, who were persecuted and killed.

Accepting "the truth of revelation" and not "the preacher" reveals for the Pontiff a mentality that is the result of "a life caged in precepts, in compromises, in revolutionary plans, in spirituality without flesh". Pope Francis referred in particular to those Christians "who allow themselves not to dance when the preacher gives you good news of joy, and allow themselves not to cry when the preacher gives you sad news". To those Christians, that is, 'who are closed, caged, who are not free'. And the reason is the "fear of the Holy Spirit's freedom, which comes through preaching".

Moreover, "this is the scandal of preaching of which St Paul spoke; the scandal of preaching that ends in the scandal of the cross". In fact, 'it scandalises us that God speaks to us through men with limitations, sinful men; and it scandalises us even more that God speaks to us and saves us through a man who says he is the son of God, but ends up as a criminal'. So for Pope Francis we end up covering up 'the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit', because ultimately 'these sad Christians do not believe in the Holy Spirit; they do not believe in that freedom that comes from preaching, which admonishes you, teaches you, even slaps you, but it is precisely freedom that makes the Church grow'.

So the image of the Gospel, with "children who are afraid to dance, to cry", who are "afraid of everything, who ask for security in everything", makes one think of "these sad Christians, who always criticise the preachers of truth, because they are afraid to open the door to the Holy Spirit". Hence the Pontiff's exhortation to pray for them and also to pray for ourselves, so that "we do not become sad Christians", those who take away "the Holy Spirit's freedom to come to us through the scandal of preaching."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 14/12/2013]

The dark aspect, allied

(Lk 7:11-17)

Na'im means Delicious: symbol of all the pleasant and laughing places, where life flows quietly until the day when the carefree ends: smiles turn into tears and songs into lamentation.

There are always two parades, and two guides. The procession of death comes to collect everyone: it is precisely preceded by a corpse.

Destiny that knocks down, and we try to exorcise. But beyond distractions - it anguishes us to imagine that the physical end is a way without return.

Who can stop humanity’s march to the grave?

Here, in the opposite direction, comes another procession, preceded by the Lord of Life, who wins ours.

In the common opinion of religions, impurity is contagious, transmitted immediately by contact, and even prevails over holiness.

According to the rabbis themselves, if e.g. an object came into contact with the hem of a priestly cloak, it would not be sanctified, despite having touched a holy person.

But if the same object had touched a corpse, it would have become unclean. 

Rambling fixations and extravagant idols, typical of superstitions.

Christ deliberately, in a blatant way, violates both the law of purity and the customary of common thought.

In the path of Faith that He proposes, not only does life prevail over death, but death itself has nothing unclean.

The reality that baffles us all is no longer a dark frontier, but a ‘mouth’.

It introduces us into the fullness, the expression and complete flowering of our potentialities.

[It’s the Easter Announcement: it resounds as a source of expectation of the One who makes every death pure, and transforms it into the Womb of Life].

The "widow" Israel had been deprived of the affection of the Bridegroom for the deleterious work of false official guides.

That nation had thus found itself begetting spiritually dying ‘children‘ (from a young age).

Infertile, barren, destined for solitude [in Hebrew the term Israel is of female gender]. That is, without the true Son of God.

A people deprived of the Messiah, therefore without a future.

In addition to this central message, Lk - evangelist of the needy - wants to draw the attention of his communities to those who are left alone.

«And Jesus gave him to his Mother» (Lk 7:15b).

The Church has the task of returning sons or families to those who have lost them.

Fraternity must respect and care for those who mourn loneliness.

Like Jesus, it stands out from all other competitive devotional forms because revives, restores affections, communicates balance and the desire to succeed.

It always marks a triumph of life over the haze of the tombs.

Pope Francis said: «In order to give himself to us, God often chooses unthinkable paths, perhaps those of our limitations, our tears, our defeats».

In short, in our trials and error, [alongside] we have to keep all the aspects - which we have come to know over time, and which we have realised are part of us.

This will change the solidity of our relationship with ourselves, others, nature, history, and the world.

Here the dark aspect becomes invigorating, Allied.

[Tuesday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 16, 2025]