«Whom shall we go to?». Faith, a critical sign (not attenuated)

(Jn 6:60-69)

A God on our level? "This Logos is sclerotic" (v.60) - as if to say: to imagine that the Most High joins with the least in everything is an incomprehensible and offensive position.

Can the Eternal recognise Himself in a simple son of man - even subversive and out of the loop - alienated from established circuits?

As in his ministry in Judea, Jesus' last activity in Galilee ends in failure (v.66).

The official pious experience proceeded on the surface - centred on the visibility of events and elite judgement, then on a succubus reality.

Even the disciples who taste the new Word are disappointed by the Master, who substitutes the Father for the tradition of the 'fathers'.

Many of the people sought him as a miracle-worker - continuing to be content with the religious structure, the dominant reference points, the same material bread as always (and so on).

Christ is not for continuing to conform, but for consistent nourishment. Here is the crisis: it does not fail when one is faced with serious choices.

For their own use, the leaders propagated dead idols, which blandished petty ideas (and immediate interests) - and frightened no one who deserved it.

Instead, the Lord went beyond the demands and horizons of normality. He had a different key.

The nuptial drama could not be resolved in convenient parentheses, as in conformist devotions: which ultimately compromise nothing [as in the later bigoted idea of 'angel food'].

Proposals such as the communion of goods, the choice of the last place, the welcome given not only to clan neighbours and so on, overturn the idea of greatness and failure.

To get involved, the disciples would have to be ready to embrace Life in the Spirit.

Impassable territory... but you can't agree with everything: bargaining, negotiation, calculations and apparatuses have had their day. In today's global crisis, the aut aut aut is pressing.

The question troubles: "But do you also want to leave?" (v.67).

Peter responds in the plural, expressing the Faith of the small group that ventures out - and that can be ours, when we remain untethered by dissociations of life, or verifications and paroxysms of 'worldviews'.

The crisis in Galilee is not a pale historical memory, but a watershed at the centre of which we are all - every day. A persistent event, which separates us from easy enthusiasms - but leads the authentic journey.

Accepting this final challenge changes the boundaries of the narrow world that entangles the soul, thus the course of existence... even the ambitious one of the disciples who perhaps did not want the discomforts of another kingdom.

Especially in the (even sacred) world of externality and shouting, the dilemma is alive: that of the fulfilled, perfect personal way; which goes in the direction of intimate energy, not of circumstantial keys.

Deaf opposition from the leaders, interested murmuring from many followers: the choice to draw on another Life must be peremptory.

The ranks are thinning, the choices are no longer obvious, the voices are many (and so are the half-measures). The once safe place is undermined.

Is it better to be consistent? Is it not better to conform to power relationships or fashions?

Faith unites with the Lord, listening gives the right position, and in the Eucharist the intertwining of natures, human and divine, is produced.

Deep aspirations drive beyond calculations and the natural order.

In us, the incarnation and action of the only Guide we can trust continues.

The purity of truth does not shatter, rather it spills over.

Before the hardships in the desert, the people had doubted the divine presence ("in our midst").

The same happened in the Johannine communities of the late first century, which questioned the Presence of the Risen One in the breaking of bread.

Some had left the church to return to the "onions of Egypt". On the other hand, in the area of Ephesus there was no lack of wealth and attraction - guaranteed and sacralised by pagan religiosity.

The same devout life polarised around the inducement of the Temple of Artemis - transformed into one of the major banks of the ancient East - guaranteed a carefree and much more 'solid' and conspicuous quality of life than the humble Eucharistic sign.

What could those crumbs be worth compared to one of the seven wonders of the ancient world?

And then enjoy being surrounded by so many "proper" people around, therefore well inserted in public and private relations - as well as adhering to attractive proposals from every point of view, not least of which was profit [or discredit: cf. the Ephesian silversmiths of trinkets; goldsmiths and craftsmen outraged with Paul: Acts 19:23ff].With Jesus, only a small group remained, but they were more intimate - and asked the right question:

Is it also dignified not to be first in the class, and 'successful'?

Who knows how to value history, and every path, even defections?

What Person does not force us to be one-sided?

The epilogue of John 6 does not call for a discipline of extrinsic spiritual proposals.

Nor does he tell (as typical in the ancient East) of talismans or mythical plants 'that make the old man young', nor of a 'sacred fire of the gods'.

For Jesus does not advocate the arduous climbing of religions, but humanisation... that brings us closer. Concrete adherence.

A saved existence glosses over any idea of naturalistic sequels expressible by ancient symbols or metaphors.

Thus e.g. the outward icons of "Plant" or "Fire", which alluded to immortal life and the divine, are discarded altogether and even replaced by "flesh" and "blood".

Their opposite, but: the character of lambs.

The experience of divinisation cannot ignore the Paschal faith-relationship dimension, which elevates us only in the freedom to 'descend'.

In times of leisure and harmony, we are always surprised to notice that our innermost core demands a different Rest.

We understand that the longed-for Peace is not a matter of place, exclusive beaches or panoramas; nor of ingenious calculations, hypotheses, sophisticated worldviews or ideal situations, but of a just Person.

But if today we feel poised in every decision and at every moment, "Who can we trust" always?

Every day we need a You that encourages and refreshes, making us feel like protagonists and collaborators, not reserves or benchwarriors.  

Never will the Dharma convince us in earnest, nor a Book... the engine of a conversion (unless it is opened with a spear).

It is only an experience that does not trap us in solitude that changes us from lukewarm believers to critical witnesses.

We feel the urgency of a loving purpose, otherwise nothing makes sense; not even success.

In me, I distinctly perceive an inclination to only grant trust to Whom I feel in need, or in at least a slightly reciprocal relationship; in a feeling that at least inwardly qualifies.

A Person who helps me first of all to reconcile with my limitations; not to feel accepted in general, but understood and welcomed within a configured affair, of real forgiveness or redemption. Or at least relationship.

Something good is not enough for me: I need Someone to free me from narrow horizons, from conditioning that takes my breath away, from internal powers that demand, from external social idols that suffocate identity, making the reason I was born diminish.

I need encouragement when I become despondent, and then I feel a need for motherly hands that welcome, for fatherly hands that reassure; for a witness, for a glance.

I feel an impelling need for a Thou who reveals to me the Good on which to begin or begin again; I am in need of an Interlocutor who makes me realise that there is a future, even in adverse conditions - and at any age.

I am not interested in façade perfection: I hunger for a Person who does not betray, who does not let me fall to the ground at the most beautiful, to the point of touching the dust. 

I seek a Friendship that doesn't mock and trample. And let it not be 'now and then': let it notice, let it heal, let it understand me and let me breathe, then raise my head and get back on track... until I too am able to pull sisters and brothers to growth.

Instead of the thunder and lightning of Sinai, which overpowers and repels, I ask for an attunement on my own level, which allows situations to be sublimated into precious correspondence and empathy.

Then yes: the personal aspect of the mission-relationship with the world becomes manifest, intense; decisive.

The non-depersonalising contact with the Voice of the Father made Brother convinces, in the drama and even in the clash of the face-to-face relationship.

The one not distant and indistinct Person who knows where to lead me and pulses within conveys that sense of participation and complicity that makes the soul so mysteriously sure of its most palpitating inclinations. Thus finally transforming a conformist and intimidated life into a dense, complete and shining adventure - one that overcomes obstacles, mentalities and conditioning that would make it pale into extinction.

We need a Presence that in the joy of togetherness opens, invites, gives taste; shatters the tension of deserving and fulfilling expected performance.

A Person who allows us to feel heard, understood and cared for, and who in the warmth of this Nest makes of ourselves a human sign with a Purpose of Love.

What is needed is Someone who transforms the meaning of everyday actions, even minute or apparently banal ones, into intimacy and Dialogue.

A Core of Sharing where we find support - not sentences - for our incessant transmigration: from the spiritualisations that 'elevate' to the humanisation that brings us closer.

And establish us at root. And transmits smiles to the soul.From the ancient religious sense to the Fedenovella? A question of Person.

To internalise and live the message:

The usual and at hand, or the best and that fits you?

What and Whom do you choose?

Do you see deep? Do you choose beyond boundaries?

«We have believed and then known»

On this passage we have a beautiful commentary by St Augustine, who says, in one of his sermons on John 6: "Do you see how Peter, by the grace of God, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, understood? Why did he understand? Because he believed. You have words of eternal life. You give us eternal life by offering your [risen] body and blood [Yourself]. And we have believed and known. It does not say: we have known and then believed, but we have believed and then known. We believed in order that we might know; for if we had wanted to know before we believed, we could neither know nor believe. What have we believed and what have we known? That you are Christ the Son of God, that you are eternal life itself, and in flesh and blood you give us what you yourself are' (Commentary on the Gospel of John, 27, 9). So said St Augustine in a sermon to his believers.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 26 August 2012]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

On the past few Sundays we have meditated on the “Bread of Life” discourse, which Jesus gave in the Synagogue of Capernaum after satisfying the hunger of thousands of people with five loaves and two fish. The Gospel today presents the disciples’ reaction to this discourse, a reaction which Christ himself deliberately provoked.

First of all, the Evangelist John — who was present with the other Apostles — says: “After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him” (Jn 6:66). Why? Because they did not believe in the words of Jesus who said: “I am the living bread which came down from heaven... he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (cf. Jn 6:51, 54); words that were truly difficult to accept, incomprehensible. This revelation — as I have said — was incomprehensible to them because they understood it in a purely literal sense, whereas these words foretold the Paschal Mystery of Jesus, in which he was to give himself for the world’s salvation: the new presence of the Blessed Eucharist.

Seeing that many of his disciples were deserting him, Jesus turned to the Apostles, asking them: “Will you also go away?” (Jn 6:67). As on other occasions it was Peter who answered on behalf of the Twelve: “Lord, to whom shall we go?”. We, too, might wonder: to whom should we go? “You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (Jn 6:68-69).

We have a beautiful comment of St Augustine on this passage. In one of his sermons on John 6 he says: “See how Peter, by the gift of God and the renewal of the Holy Spirit, understood Him. How other than because he believed? ‘You have the words of eternal life’. For You have eternal life in the ministration of Your body [Risen] and Your blood [Yourself]. ‘And we have believed and have known’. He does not say: ‘we have known and then believed’, but ‘we have believed and then known’. We believed in order to know; for if we wanted to know first, and then to believe, we should not be able either to know or to believe. What have we believed and known? ‘That You are Christ, the Son of God’; that is, that You are that very eternal life, and that You give in Your flesh and blood only that which You are” (In Evangelium Johannis tractatus, 27, 9). St Augustine addressed this homily to his believers.

Finally, Jesus knew that among the Twelve Apostles there was also one who did not believe: Judas. Judas could have gone away too, as did many of the disciples; indeed, perhaps if he had been honest he would have been bound to leave. Instead he stayed on with Jesus. He did not stay out of faith or out of love, but rather with the secret intention of taking revenge on the Teacher. Why? Because Judas felt let down by Jesus and decided that he, in his turn, would betray Jesus. Judas was a zealot and he wanted a victorious Messiah who would lead a revolt against the Romans. Jesus had not measured up to these expectations. The problem was that Judas did not go away and his greatest sin was his deceitfulness, which is the mark of the Devil. For this reason Jesus said to the Twelve: “One of you is a devil” (Jn 6:70). Let us pray to the Virgin Mary to help us believe in Jesus, like St Peter, and always to be sincere with him and with everyone.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 26 August 2012]

1. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68).

Dear young people of the Fifteenth World Youth Day! These words of Peter, in his conversation with Christ at the end of the discourse on the “bread of life”, affect us personally. In these days we have meditated on John’s statement: “The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:14). The evangelist has brought us back to the great mystery of the Incarnation of the Son of God, the Son given to us through Mary “when the fullness of time had come” (Gal 4:4).

[…]

2. We have reached the high point of World Youth Day. Yesterday evening, dear young people, we confirmed our faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God whom the Father sent, as the First Reading reminded us today, “to bring good tidings to the poor, ... to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound ... to comfort all who mourn” (Is 61:1-3).

In today’s Eucharistic celebration, Jesus helps us to come to know a particular aspect of his mystery. In the Gospel, we listened to a part of his discourse in the synagogue at Capernaum after the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves. In it he reveals himself as the true bread of life, the bread which has come down from heaven to give life to the world (cf. Jn 6:51). These are words that those who hear him do not understand. Their outlook is too material for them to grasp what Christ really means. They are thinking in terms of flesh, which “is of no avail” (Jn 6:63). Jesus’s words, instead, have to do with the unlimited horizons of the spirit: “The words that I have spoken to you – he insists – are spirit and life” (ibid.).

But his hearers are hesitant: “This is a hard saying, who can listen to it?” (Jn 6:60). They consider themselves to be persons of common sense, with their feet on the ground. For this reason they shake their heads and go away muttering, one after another. The initial crowd gradually grows smaller. At the end, only the tiny group of his most faithful disciples remains. But with regard to the “bread of life” Jesus is not prepared to back down. Rather, he is ready to lose even those closest to him: “Will you also go away?” (Jn 6:67).

3. “Will you also?” Christ’s question cuts across the centuries and comes down to us; it challenges us personally and calls for a decision. What is our answer? Dear young people, if we are here today, it is because we identify with the Apostle Peter’s reply: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68).

Around you, you hear all kinds of words. But only Christ speaks words that stand the test of time and remain for all eternity. The time of life that you are living calls for decisive choices on your part: decisions about the direction of your studies, about work, about your role in society and in the Church. It is important to realize that among the many questions surfacing in your minds, the decisive ones are not about “what”. The basic question is “who”: “who” am I to go to, “who” am I to follow, “to whom” should I entrust my life?

You are thinking about love and the choices it entails, and I imagine that you agree: what is really important in life is the choice of the person who will share it with you. But be careful! Every human person has inevitable limits: even in the most successful of marriages there is always a certain amount of disappointment. So then, dear friends, does not this confirm what we heard the Apostle Peter say? Every human being finds himself sooner or later saying what he said: “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life”. Only Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God and of Mary, the eternal Word of the Father born two thousand years ago at Bethlehem in Judaea, is capable of satisfying the deepest aspirations of the human heart.

In Peter’s question: “To whom shall we go?” the answer regarding the path to follow is already given. It is the path that leads to Christ. And it is possible to meet the divine Master personally: he is in fact truly present on the altar in the reality of his Body and Blood. In the Eucharistic Sacrifice, we can enter into contact with the person of Jesus in a way that is mysterious but real, drinking at the inexhaustible fountain that is his life as the Risen Lord.

4. This is the stupendous truth, dear friends: the Word, who took flesh two thousand years ago, is present today in the Eucharist. That is why the year of the Great Jubilee, in which we are celebrating the mystery of the Incarnation, had to be an “intensely Eucharistic” year as well (cf. Tertio Millennio Adveniente, 55).

The Eucharist is the sacrament of the presence of Christ, who gives himself to us because he loves us. He loves each one of us in a unique and personal way in our practical daily lives: in our families, among our friends, at study and work, in rest and relaxation. He loves us when he fills our days with freshness, and also when, in times of suffering, he allows trials to weigh upon us: even in the most severe trials, he lets us hear his voice.

Yes, dear friends, Christ loves us and he loves us for ever! He loves us even when we disappoint him, when we fail to meet his expectations for us. He never fails to embrace us in his mercy. How can we not be grateful to this God who has redeemed us, going so far as to accept the foolishness of the Cross? To God who has come to be at our side and has stayed with us to the end?

5. To celebrate the Eucharist, “to eat his flesh and drink his blood”, means to accept the wisdom of the Cross and the path of service. It means that we signal our willingness to sacrifice ourselves for others, as Christ has done.

Our society desperately needs this sign, and young people need it even more so, tempted as they often are by the illusion of an easy and comfortable life, by drugs and pleasure-seeking, only to find themselves in a spiral of despair, meaninglessness and violence. It is urgent to change direction and to turn to Christ. This is the way of justice, solidarity and commitment to building a society and a future worthy of the human person.

This is our Eucharist, this is the answer that Christ wants from us, from you young people at the closing of your Jubilee. Jesus is no lover of half measures, and he does not hesitate to pursue us with the question: “Will you also go away?” In the presence of Christ, the Bread of Life, we too want to say today with Peter: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68).

6. Dear friends, when you go back home, set the Eucharist at the centre of your personal life and community life: love the Eucharist, adore the Eucharist and celebrate it, especially on Sundays, the Lord’s Day. Live the Eucharist by testifying to God’s love for every person.

I entrust to you, dear friends, this greatest of God’s gifts to us who are pilgrims on the paths of time, but who bear in our hearts a thirst for eternity. May every community always have a priest to celebrate the Eucharist! I ask the Lord therefore to raise up from among you many holy vocations to the priesthood. Today as always the Church needs those who celebrate the Eucharistic Sacrifice with a pure heart. The world must not be deprived of the gentle and liberating presence of Christ living in the Eucharist!

You yourselves must be fervent witnesses to Christ’s presence on the altar. Let the Eucharist mould your life and the life of the families you will form. Let it guide all life’s choices. May the Eucharist, the true and living presence of the love of the Trinity, inspire in you ideals of solidarity, and may it lead you to live in communion with your brothers and sisters in every part of the world.

In a special way, may sharing in the Eucharist lead to a new flourishing of vocations to the religious life. In this way the Church will have fresh and generous energies for the great task of the new evangelization. If any of you, dear young men and women, hear the Lord’s inner call to give yourselves completely to him in order to love him “with an undivided heart” (cf. 1 Cor 7:34), do not be held back by doubts or fears. Say “yes” with courage and without reserve, trusting him who is faithful to his promises. Did he not assure those who had left everything for his sake that they would have a hundredfold in this life and eternal life hereafter? (cf. Mk 10:29-30).

7. At the end of this World Youth Day, as I look at you now, at your young faces, at your genuine enthusiasm, from the depths of my heart I want to give thanks to God for the gift of youth, which continues to be present in the Church and in the world because of you.

Thank God for the World Youth Days! Thanks be to God for all the young people who have been involved in them in the past sixteen years! Many of them are now adults who continue to live their faith in their homes and work-places. I am sure, dear friends, that you too will be as good as those who preceded you. You will carry the proclamation of Christ into the new millennium. When you return home, do not grow lax. Reinforce and deepen your bond with the Christian communities to which you belong. From Rome, from the City of Peter and Paul, the Pope follows you with affection and, paraphrasing Saint Catherine of Siena’s words, reminds you: “If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world ablaze!” (cf. Letter 368).

I look with confidence to this new humanity which you are now helping to prepare. I look to this Church which in every age is made youthful by the Spirit of Christ and today is made happy by your intentions and commitment. I look to the future and make my own the words of an ancient prayer, which sings the praise of the one gift of Jesus, the Eucharist and the Church:

“I give thanks to you, Father of us all,
for the life and the knowledge
which you have revealed to us through Jesus your servant.
To you be glory in every age!

Just as this bread now broken
was wheat scattered far and wide upon the hills
and, when harvested, became one bread,
so too let your Church be gathered into your kingdom
from the far ends of the earth...

You, O Lord almighty, have created the universe
to the glory of your name;
you have given people food
and drink for their comfort,
so that they may give you thanks;
but to us you have given a spiritual food and drink
and eternal life through your Son...
Glory be to you for ever!” (Didache 9:3-4; 10:3-4)

Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, homily at Tor Vergata 20 August 2000]

The Gospel for today’s liturgy (Jn 6:60-69) shows us the reaction of the crowd and the disciples to Jesus’ discourse following the multiplication of the loaves. Jesus invited them to interpret that sign and believe in him, who is the true bread come down from heaven, the bread of life; and he revealed that the bread he will give is his body and blood. These words sound harsh and incomprehensible to the ears of the people, so much so that, from that moment, the Gospel says, many of his disciples turn back; that is, they stop following the Master (vv. 60, 66). Then Jesus asks the Twelve: “Do you also wish to go away?” (v. 67), and Peter, on behalf of the whole group, confirms their decision to stay with Him: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (Jn 6:68-69). And it is a beautiful confession of faith.

Let us look briefly at the attitude of those who withdrew and decided not to follow Jesus any more. Where does this disbelief come from? What is the reason for this rejection?

Jesus’ words enkindled great scandal: he was saying that God decided to manifest himself and accomplish salvation in the weakness of human flesh. It is the mystery of the incarnation. The incarnation of God is what provoked scandal and presented an obstacle for those people — but often for us too. Indeed, Jesus affirms that the true bread of salvation, which transmits eternal life, is his very flesh; that to enter into communion with God, before observing the laws or satisfying religious precepts, it is necessary to live out a real and concrete relationship with him. Because salvation came from him, in his incarnation. This means that one must not pursue God in dreams and in images of grandeur and power, but he must be recognized in the humanity of Jesus and, as a consequence, in that of the brothers and sisters we meet on the path of life. God made himself flesh. And when we say this, in the Creed, on Christmas Day, on the day of the Annunciation, we kneel to worship this mystery of the incarnation. God made himself flesh and blood; he lowered himself to the point of becoming a man like us. He humbled himself to the extent of burdening himself with our sufferings and sin, and therefore he asks us to seek him not outside of life and history, but in relationship with Christ and with our brothers and sisters. Seeking him in life, in history, in our daily life. And this, brothers and sisters, is the road to the encounter with God: the relationship with Christ and our brothers and sisters.

Even today, God’s revelation in Jesus’ humanity can cause scandal and is not easy to accept. This is what Saint Paul calls the “folly” of the Gospel in the face of those who seek miracles or worldly wisdom (cf. 1 Cor 1:18-25). And this “scandalousness” is well represented by the sacrament of the Eucharist: what sense can there be, in the eyes of the world, in kneeling before a piece of bread? Why on earth should someone be nourished assiduously with this bread? The world is scandalized.

Faced with this prodigious deed of Jesus, who with five loaves and two fish fed thousands of people, everyone acclaimed him and wanted to lift him up in triumph, to make him king. But when he himself explains that the gesture is a sign of his sacrifice, that is, of the gift of his life, his flesh and blood, and that those who want to follow him must resemble him, His humanity given for God and for others, then no, this is not pleasing, this Jesus throws us into crisis. Rather, we should be worried if he does not throw us into crisis, because we might have watered down his message! And we ask for the grace to let ourselves be provoked and converted by his “words of eternal life”. And may Mary Most Holy, who bore her Son Jesus in the flesh and joined herself to his sacrifice, help us to always bear witness to our faith in our real lives.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 22 August 2021]

No triumphal march: fragments, to reconcile

(Jn 6:52-59)

The Eucharistic theme conveys a fundamental message, about the quality of Life of the Eternal that we can already experience here and now.

The Life of the Eternal is not the effect of external “belief” in Jesus. Conviction that would stop us, and lose 'contact'.

Instead, it becomes reciprocal, evolves, recovers us, as in a natural energy.

Here is the raw Food, and Drink: by 'chewing’ Him and 'crushing’; 'drinking’ Him and 'gulping’, ‘quaffing’ Him and ‘swilling down' even [verbs used in the Greek text].

Total assimilation, which is converted into an experience - Gift from Person to person.

The Food to be fed on is not a seal, but an everlasting, convoking motion. Not a logical, compassed and consenting doctrine, but Word-event that fully engages.

For this reason, here is the Person of Christ - in his true and full human reality, offered and broken; in his authentic teaching and vicissitude as the paschal lamb, amidst wolves that shredded him.

It is the raw means by which the Life of the Eternal is given and preserved.

In this sense the Eucharist received in bare Faith is the real (not symbolic) Presence of the Risen One.

The harshness of the vocabulary used - not very intimate - scratches the lives of believers with concrete effects in the first person.

«To have Life» is to be united with Jesus - but not in a sweet, sentimental, or dazzling way.

The Pact of a new kingdom is existence in God: a charge that’s not exhausted, and ushers us into the paradoxical, wounded glory of the community of sons.

The Eucharist is the reference point of Church recognizing itself, defines what it is called to be. And must not find its perennial bonds elsewhere.

With polemical crudeness, Jesus insists on proposing Himself as the Easter Lamb who rudely chopped up and totally absorbed, frees from slavery - introducing his own intimates in angular but true trajectories.

His proposal passes through an impertinent transgression of legalism: it was absolutely forbidden to assume blood, considered the seat of life.

To make the story of the total Christ one's own - so far removed from controlled thinking - is to mark a contestation of norms and habits or fashions.

In short, others "manna" or external affective dependencies, diluted, conditioning-centred, are not even pale figures of the Living Food.

The life Communion with the concrete Person of Lord is only that of the Son with the Father: cultivating it, we dream of it and keep it there, along with our events - so that they are nourished by same Spirit.

By letting the motivations and the world of images linked to the Lord's Supper evolve, we allow ourselves to be led by the efficacious Sign. It will guide and even lead, precisely where we need to go.

By surrendering to such a memorial that gives intimate impetus, something will happen - for the soul to take the field. We will see other stages give birth.

Here is the Judgement of the wounded Crucified, who sprinkles authentic life (even if inclement); without admirable attunements all around.

This by taking our flesh and blood [involves the body and moods] which assimilates to Him the discarded, those outcasts of earthly thrones and opportunistic entanglements.

This is shocking for the vulgar outside mentality that raises defences and seeks approval, recognition, achievement; mirages of success, things that everyone wants.

Decrease that doesn’t attract enthusiastic consensus, but rather flies in the face of normal expectations of the usual choruses of glory - of the acclamation’ symphonies for whirlwind success and available, but mitigating.

Flesh and Blood: thrown into the furrows of history. We also being involved without dampening the Spirit; in a personal and intimate way: One Body, assimilated into Him and His affair.

First fruits of no triumphal march: we too became food, crumbs and fragments, to reconcile.

Otherwise, the time of the Promises cannot be fulfilled.

[Friday 3rd wk. in Easter, May 9, 2025]

No triumphal march: fragments, to reconcile

(Jn 6:52-59)

The Eucharistic theme conveys a fundamental message, about the quality of Life of the Eternal that we can already experience here and now.

The Life of the Eternal is not the effect of external "belief" in Jesus. Conviction would stop us, and we would lose 'contact'.

Instead it becomes reciprocal, it evolves, it recovers us, as in a natural energy.

Here is the raw Food, and Drink: 'chew it' and 'crush it', 'drink it' and 'swill it' even [verbs used in the Greek text].

Total assimilation, which is converted into an experience - Gift from Person to Person.

The Food to be nourished on is not a seal; rather, an everlasting, convoking motion.

Not a logical doctrine, compassed and consenting, but Word-event that fully engages.

And his story - with all its implications of persecution suffered, and harshness, and denunciation activity.

[This is an aspect that is in tune with the so-called inspired prayer 'in the Name of Jesus', i.e. a prayer imbued with the dramatic bearing and burden of his historical events; which neither spiritualises nor anaesthetises us at all, because it contrasts critical witnesses with installed situations].

For this reason, here is the Person of Christ - in his true and full human reality, offered and broken; in his authentic teaching and vicissitude as the paschal lamb.

Between wolves that have shredded it.

It is the abrupt means by which the Life of the Eternal is given and preserved.

In this sense, the Eucharist received in naked Faith is the real (not symbolic) Presence of the Risen One.

The harshness of the vocabulary used - not very intimate - scratches the believers' lives with concrete first-person effects, not automatic or magical.

Faith emphasises the paradigmatic nuptiality "Do you want to unite your life to mine?": it is a privileged place - on which we feed and drink, even in its very harshness, to make it explicit.

It is Life from the Father through the Son, assimilated in us: not devotion.

"To have Life" is to be united with Jesus - but not in a sweet, sentimental, or dazzling way.

We are impregnated and sent, made One with the "Son of Man" [the divine measure for each one of us] in the Covenant of events.

Relationship, motive, vehicle, unifying movement, anticipation, which unfold the Communion between Father and Son - without stillness or pause.

The covenant of a new kingdom is life in God: a charge that is not exhausted, and ushers us into the paradoxical and wounded glory of the community of sons.

The Eucharist is a point of reference for the Church, sometimes lost in the hypnosis of external events.

Assembly that recognises itself; it defines what it is called to be. And it must not find its perennial bonds elsewhere.

Some passages from John are an interesting historical testimony of the catechesis at the end of the first century in the communities of Asia Minor.

Fraternities in search of ancestral motivations, of the most ancient energies, that would rise above the whirlwinds of persecution and not alter consciousness in Christ.

Instruction was configured to short questions and answers, formulated to welcome pagans, stem defections, deepen themes.

Arguments and thrusts that distinguished the living Faith from a religiosity of the past and its perfectionist or commemorative schemes.

Styles that it was appropriate to lay down, to satiate the hunger and thirst for fullness - conquering freedom, joy, and a more complete, total, indestructible being.

With polemical rawness, Jesus insists on presenting himself as the Lamb of the true Passover.

A lamb that, roughly pounded, crushed, shredded, and totally absorbed, could liberate from bondage, and give the joy of ecstasy.

In this way, he introduced his own into angular, but true trajectories - finally reknotted, both to activate the authentic realisation of individuals, and for qualities of coexistence.

His proposal passed through an impertinent transgression of purism, legalism, and intimist, devout culture in general.

It was absolutely forbidden to take blood, which was considered the seat of life.

To make the story of the total Christ - so far removed from controlled thinking - his own was to mark contestation.

It was rejection of symbols, norms, habits or fashions. There would be no alternative, no non-offensive compromise.

Not only that: it was also necessary to change the minds of those who imagined that they could align themselves (individually or as a group) with the archaic idea of a powerful, victorious, and guarantor Messiah.

Perhaps adaptable, flexible; available for any kind of Jesus-Empire alliance, which already enchanted some.

In short, other external, diluted, conditioning-centred 'manne' or affective dependencies could not even be pale figures of the Living Food.

Communion of life with the concrete Person of the Lord is only that of the Son with the Father.By cultivating it, we dream it and keep it there, along with our own affairs - so that they may be nourished by that same Spirit.

By letting the motivations and the world of images linked to the Lord's Supper evolve, we allow ourselves to be led by the efficacious Sign.

It will guide and even lead precisely where we need to go.

By surrendering to such a memory-giving intimate impulse, something will happen - for the soul to take the field.

Waiting until we are ready, we will learn to understand the fruitfulness and wisdom of the broken Gift-Response that incessantly gives birth to other stages, still activating different, perhaps unknown, resources.

Here it is the Judgment of the wounded Crucified One that spreads authentic 'life' even inclemently; without admirable attunement all around.

This by taking our flesh and blood [it even involves the body and humours] that assimilates the discarded, the outcasts of earthly thrones, and opportunistic entanglements to Him.

This is shocking to the vulgar mentality outside. World of convictions that raises defences and seeks approval, recognition, achievements; mirages of success, things everyone wants.

Diminution that does not attract enthusiastic consent, but rather repels the normal expectations of the usual choruses of glory - of symphonies of acclamation for the swirling and available, but mitigating success.

Flesh and Blood: thrown into the furrows of history.

Involved without dampening the Spirit; personally and intimately. One body, assimilated into Him and His story.

First fruits of no triumphal march: we too become food, crumbs and fragments, to reconcile.

Otherwise, the time of Promises cannot be fulfilled.

To internalise and live the message:

What understanding do you show by taking the Food and Drink of Life? All quiet?

How do you see fit to combine and deepen Faith in the Real Presence of the Risen One with the harshness of life?

This […] is the concluding part and culmination of the discourse given by Jesus in the Synagogue of Capernaum after he had fed thousands of people with five loaves and two fishes the previous day. Jesus reveals the meaning of this miracle, namely that the promised time had come; God the Father, who had fed the Israelites in the desert with manna, now sent him, the Son, as the true Bread of life; and this bread is his flesh, his life, offered in sacrifice for us. It is therefore a question of welcoming him with faith, not of being shocked by his humanity, and it is about eating his flesh and drinking his blood (cf. Jn 6:54) in order to obtain for ourselves the fullness of life. It is clear that this address was not given to attract approval. Jesus knew this and gave this speech intentionally. In fact it was a critical moment, a turning point in his public mission. The people, and the disciples themselves, were enthusiastic when he performed miraculous signs; the multiplication of the loaves and fishes was a clear revelation that he was the Messiah, so that the crowd would have liked to carry Jesus in triumph and proclaim him King of Israel. But this was not what Jesus wanted. With his long address he dampens the enthusiasm and incites much dissent. In explaining the image of the bread, he affirms that he has been sent to offer his own life and he who wants to follow him must join him in a deep and personal way, participating in his sacrifice of love. Thus Jesus was to institute the Sacrament of the Eucharist at the Last Supper, so that his disciples themselves might share in his love — this was crucial — and, as one body united with him, might extend his mystery of salvation in the world.

In listening to this address the people understood that Jesus was not the Messiah they wanted, one who would aspire to an earthly throne. He did not seek approval to conquer Jerusalem; rather he wanted to go to the Holy City to share the destiny of the prophets: to give his life for God and for the people. Those loaves, broken for thousands, were not meant to result in a triumphal march but to foretell the sacrifice on the Cross when Jesus was to become Bread, Body and Blood, offered in expiation. Jesus therefore gave the address to bring the crowds down to earth and mostly to encourage his disciples to make a decision. In fact from that moment many of them no longer followed him.

Dear friends, let us once again be filled with wonder by Christ’s words. He, a grain of wheat scattered in the furrows of history, is the first fruits of the new humanity, freed from the corruption of sin and death. And let us rediscover the beauty of the Sacrament of the Eucharist which expresses all God’s humility and holiness. His making himself small, God makes himself small, a fragment of the universe to reconcile all in his love. May the Virgin Mary, who gave the world the Bread of Life, teach us to live in ever deeper union with him.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 19 August 2012]

1. “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life" (Jn 6:54). By instituting the Eucharist on the eve of his death, Christ wanted to give the Church a food that would nourish her continually and make her live his own life as the Risen One.

Long before the institution, Jesus had announced this unique meal. In Jewish worship there was no lack of sacred meals, which were eaten in the presence of God and which manifested the joy of divine favour. Jesus surpasses all this: now it is he, in his flesh and blood, who becomes the food and drink of humanity. In the Eucharistic meal, man feeds on God.

When, for the first time, Jesus announces this food, he arouses the amazement of his listeners, who fail to grasp such a lofty divine plan. Jesus therefore vigorously emphasised the objective truth of his words, affirming the necessity of the Eucharistic meal: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life in you" (John 6: 53). This is not a purely spiritual meal, in which the expressions 'eating the flesh' of Christ and 'drinking his blood' would have a metaphorical meaning. It is a true meal, as Jesus emphatically states: "My flesh is true food and my blood true drink" (Jn 6:55).

Such food, moreover, is no less necessary for the development of divine life in the faithful than material food is for the maintenance and development of bodily life. The Eucharist is not a luxury offered to those who would like to live more intimately united to Christ: it is a requirement of Christian life. This requirement was understood by the disciples since, according to the testimony of the Acts of the Apostles, in the early days of the Church the "breaking of bread", the Eucharistic meal, was practised daily in the homes of the faithful "with joy and simplicity of heart" (Acts 2:46).

2. In the promise of the Eucharist, Jesus explains why this food is necessary: "I am the bread of life" he declares (Jn 6:48). "As the Father, who has life, has sent me and I live for the Father, so also he who eats of me will live for me" (John 6:57). The Father is the first source of life: he has given this life to the Son, who in turn communicates it to humanity. He who feeds on Christ in the Eucharist does not have to wait for the hereafter to receive eternal life: he already possesses it on earth, and in it he also possesses the guarantee of bodily resurrection at the end of the world: "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day" (Jn 6:54).

This guarantee of Resurrection comes from the fact that the flesh of the Son of Man given as food is his body in the glorious state of the Risen One. The listeners to the promise of the Eucharist had not grasped this truth: they thought that Jesus wanted to speak of his flesh in the state of his earthly life, and thus manifested great repugnance at the meal announced. The Master corrects their way of thinking, pointing out that it is the flesh of the Son of Man "ascended to where he was before" (Jn 6:62), that is, in the triumphant state of his ascension into heaven. This glorious body is filled with the life of the Holy Spirit, and it is in this way that it can sanctify the men who feed on it, and give them the pledge of eternal glory.

In the Eucharist, therefore, we receive the life of the risen Christ. For when the sacrifice is sacramentally performed on the altar, not only is the mystery of the Saviour's Passion and Death made present in it, but also the mystery of the Resurrection, in which the sacrifice finds its crowning glory. The Eucharistic celebration makes us participate in the redemptive offering, but also in the triumphant life of the risen Christ. This is the reason for the atmosphere of joy that characterises every Eucharistic liturgy. While commemorating the drama of Calvary, once marked by immense sorrow, the priest and the faithful rejoice in uniting their offering to that of Christ, because they know that they are at the same time living the mystery of the Resurrection, inseparable from this offering.

3. The life of the risen Christ is distinguished by its power and richness. The one who receives communion receives the spiritual strength needed to face all obstacles and trials while remaining faithful to his commitments as a Christian. He also draws from the Sacrament, as from an abundant spring, continuous streams of energy for the development of all his resources and qualities, in a joyful ardour that stimulates generosity.

In particular, he draws on the life-giving energy of charity. In the tradition of the Church, the Eucharist has always been considered and lived as the sacrament par excellence of unity and love. Already St Paul declares it: "Since there is one bread, we, though we are many, are one body; For we all partake of the one bread" (1 Cor 10:17).

The Eucharistic celebration brings together all Christians, whatever their differences, in a unanimous offering and meal in which all participate. It gathers them all into the equal dignity of brothers of Christ and sons of the Father; it invites them to respect, to mutual esteem, to mutual service. Communion also gives each person the moral strength needed to rise above reasons for division and opposition, to forgive wrongs received, to make a new effort in the direction of reconciliation and fraternal understanding.

Is it not, moreover, particularly significant that the precept of mutual love was formulated by Christ in its highest expression during the Last Supper, at the institution of the Eucharist? Every believer should remember this when approaching the Eucharistic table and strive not to contradict with his life what he celebrates in the mystery.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 8 June 1983]

This [...] Gospel passage [...] introduces us to the second part of the discourse that Jesus delivers in the Synagogue of Capernaum, after having satisfied the hunger of the great multitude with five loaves and two fish: the multiplication of the loaves. He presents himself as “the bread which came down from heaven”, the bread that gives eternal life, and he adds: “the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh” (v. 51).

This passage is decisive, and in fact it provokes the reaction of those who are listening, who begin to dispute among themselves: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (v. 52). When the sign of the shared bread points to its true significance, namely, self-giving to the point of sacrifice, misunderstanding arises; it leads to the actual rejection of the One whom, shortly before, they had wanted to lift up in triumph. Let us remember that Jesus had to hide because they had wanted to make him king.

Jesus continues: “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you” (v. 53). Here the blood is present together with the flesh. In biblical language, flesh and blood express concrete humanity. The people and the disciples themselves sense that Jesus invites them to enter into communion with him, to ‘eat’ him, his humanity, in order to share with him the gift of life for the world. So much for triumphs and mirages of success! It is precisely the sacrifice of Jesus who gives himself for us.

This bread of life, the sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, comes to us freely given at the table of the Eucharist. Around the altar we find what spiritually feeds us and quenches our thirst today and for eternity. Each time we participate in the Holy Mass, in a certain sense, we anticipate heaven on earth, because from the Eucharistic sustenance, the Body and Blood of Jesus, we learn what eternal life is. It is living for the Lord: “he who eats me will live because of me” (v. 57), the Lord says. The Eucharist shapes us so that we live not only for ourselves but for the Lord and for our brothers and sisters. Life’s happiness and eternity depend on our ability to render fruitful the evangelical love we receive in the Eucharist.

As in that time, today too Jesus repeats to each of us: “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you” (v. 53). Brothers and sisters, it is not about material sustenance, but a living and life-giving bread, which conveys the very life of God. When we receive Communion we receive the very life of God. To have this life it is necessary to nourish ourselves of the Gospel and of the love of our brothers and sisters. Before Jesus’ invitation to nourish ourselves of his Body and of his Blood, we might feel the need to dispute and to resist, as did those listeners whom today’s Gospel spoke of. This happens when we struggle to model our existence after that of Jesus, to act according to his criteria and not according to worldly criteria. By nourishing ourselves of this food we can enter into full harmony with Christ, with his sentiments, with his behaviour. This is so important: to go to Mass and partake in Communion, because receiving Communion is receiving this living Christ, who transforms us within and prepares us for heaven.

May the Virgin Mary support our aim to enter into communion with Jesus Christ, by nourishing ourselves of his Eucharist, so as to become in our turn bread broken for our brothers and sisters.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 19 August 2018]

Third Easter Sunday [4 May 2025]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! In these days, as the prayer of the Church is intense in anticipation of the choice of Peter's successor, the proclamation of the Gospel (Jn 21:1-19) concerning Peter himself takes on great value.

*First Reading, from the Acts of the Apostles (5, 27b-32. 40b-41)

 After the apostles had been scourged for their preaching, St Luke writes that when they came out of the Sanhedrin they went away rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer outrages for the name of Jesus. After all, the Lord had foretold to them that they would be hated, banished, insulted, and reviled because of the Son of Man, and that precisely that would be the time to rejoice and even exult because great is the reward in heaven, since this was also the case with the prophets (cf. Lk 6:22-23). Besides, if they persecuted the Master, they will do the same to you (cf. Jn 15:20). Peter and John, after the healing of the cripple at the Porta Bella, a miracle that made much noise in the city, had been tried before the Sanhedrin, the Jerusalem tribunal, the same one that had condemned Jesus a few weeks earlier. As soon as they were released, they had resumed preaching and performing miracles. Arrested again and put in prison, during the night they were released by an angel and it is understood that this miraculous intervention made them even stronger; they resumed preaching. Today's passage situates us precisely at this moment: arrested once again and brought to court, Peter replies to the high priest who questions them that "one must obey God rather than men". He then speaks of the difference between the logic of God and the logic of men: that of men, that is, that of the Jewish court, considers that a wrongdoer who has been killed should certainly not be given publicity. And he argues thus: Jesus, in the eyes of the religious authorities, is an impostor crucified because he had to be prevented from deceiving the populace prone to give credence to any supposed messiah. A condemned man hung on the cross, according to the Torah, becomes cursed even by God. However, there is also God's logic: you crucified Jesus and yet, against all odds, he is not only not cursed by God but raised to the right hand of God who made him Prince and Saviour to grant Israel conversion and forgiveness of sins. Words that sound scandalous to the judges exasperated by the apostles' confidence, so many decide to eliminate them as they did Jesus. Gamaliel intervenes, however, who invites the Sanhedrin to prudence because if this work is of human origin it will destroy itself, but if it comes from God this will never happen; indeed he warns them so that "it will not happen to you to fight against God" (Acts 5:34-39). Today's liturgical reading skips the Gamaliel episode and directly narrates Peter's response to the tribunal determined to scourge the apostles and then free them. History shows that there have always been persecutions, scandals, and attacks of all kinds in the Church, and yet it continues to go on through the centuries. St Augustine writes: "The city of God advances through time, pilgrimaging between the persecutions of the world and the consolations of God." (De Civitate Dei, XIX, 26).

*Responsorial Psalm 29 (30), 3-4, 5-6ab, 6cd.12, 13

Psalm 29 (30) is very short, only thirteen verses (of which only eight are proposed in today's liturgy). Reading through the entire psalm one perceives the situation of a desperate person who has done everything to be saved, crying out, begging, asking for help. There are people who even enjoy seeing him suffer and mock him, but he continues to cry out for help until someone finally listens and frees him. It is God himself who intervenes and, freed from oppression, the desperate man explodes with joy. The opening of the psalm sets the tone for everything else: 'I exalt you, O Lord, for you have raised me up and not allowed my enemies to rejoice over me'. In every psalm there are two levels of reading: here too, the adventure of one who, despite having suffered an unexpected collapse in his life, continues to be certain that in the end he will be delivered, is an image of Israel exploding with joy after the Babylonian exile, just as it had exulted after the crossing of the Red Sea. In tragic moments, Israel trusts in God: "In my confidence I said: never shall I waver"; he cries out to the Lord: "Hear, Lord, have mercy on me, Lord come to my aid!" and uses every argument possible, going so far as to provoke God: "what good would it do you if I died, what good would my blood do you if I went down to the grave?"  And when the psalmist says: "Can the dust praise thee, proclaim thy faithfulness?" he makes us realise that in those days it was believed that after death there was nothingness, so useless before death were prayers, sacrifices, songs. God, however, listens and performs the miracle: "I cried out to you, my God, and you healed me; Lord you brought me up from the abyss and revived me when I was about to die". This psalm finds its fulfilment in the Easter cry of Alleluia because the Lord has delivered us from the bondage of evil. Among rabbinic commentaries I found this: "God has led us from slavery to freedom, from sorrow to joy, from mourning to the feast day, from darkness to shining light, from slavery to redemption. Therefore we sing Alleluia before him!"

* Second Reading: From the Book of Revelation of Saint John the Apostle (5, 11-14)

The book of Revelation is a hymn to victory narrated with many visions. In today's text, millions and millions of angels shout at the top of their voices in heaven: "long live the King!" while on land, sea, and under the earth, every breathing creature praises the new King, Jesus Christ: the immolated Lamb, acclaimed as he receives "power and riches, wisdom and strength, honour, glory, and blessing". To describe the kingship of Christ, the vision uses a language of images and numbers; a rich text, therefore, because only symbolic language can introduce us into the ineffable and lindicable world of God. It is, at the same time, a difficult text because it uses recurring images, colours and numbers that are not easy to interpret. It is difficult to grasp the hidden meaning of a passage such as the expression "the four living creatures", which in the previous chapter are four winged beings: the first with the face of a man, the other three of animals - a lion, an eagle, a bull - and we are used to seeing them in many paintings, sculptures and mosaics, believing we know without hesitation to whom they refer. St Irenaeus, in the 2nd century, proposed a symbolic reading: for him, the four living ones are the four evangelists; St Augustine took up the same idea, modifying it slightly, and his interpretation has remained in the tradition: according to him, Matthew is the living one with the face of a man, Mark the lion, Luke the bull and John the eagle. Modern biblical scholars do not seem to agree because for them the author of Revelation has taken an image from Ezekiel, where the four beings support the throne of God and simply represent the created world. The numbers are also difficult to interpret. According to many, the number 3 symbolises God; 4 the world the created world by reason of the four cardinal points; 7 (3+4) evokes both God and the created world in its fullness and perfection, while 6 (7-1) stands for incompleteness, imperfection. Of singular interest is this acclamation: 'The Lamb that was slain is worthy to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honour, glory and praise': power and riches, wisdom and strength refer to earthly success, honour, glory and praise are reserved for God. It is a total of seven words: this is to say that the immolated Lamb, that is, Jesus is fully God and fully man, all expressed with the suggestive power of symbolic language. All creatures in heaven, on earth, under the earth and on the sea thus proclaim their submission to God who sits on the Throne and to the Lamb: "To him who sits on the Throne and to the Lamb, praise, honour, glory and power for ever and ever". John's insistence aims to exalt the victory of the immolated Lamb: defeated in the eyes of men, he is the great victor. Let us contemplate here the mystery that lies at the heart of the New Testament, which is at the same time its paradox: the Lord of the world is made the least, the Judge of the living and the dead is judged as an evildoer; he who is God is accused of blasphemy and rejected precisely in the name of God. All this happens because God has allowed it. By using this language, St John has a twofold objective: on the one hand, he offers the community a response to the scandal of the cross by providing arguments to Christians who were arguing bitterly with the Jews about the death of Christ. For the Jews it was clear that he was not the Messiah because it is written in Deuteronomy that "anyone condemned to death under the law, executed and hung on a tree, is a curse of God" (Deut 21:22). For Christians, on the other hand, in the light of the resurrection, his death is the work of God and the cross constitutes the place of the exaltation of the Son, as Jesus himself had announced: "When you have lifted up the Son of Man, you will know that 'I am'" (Jn 8:28). That is, you will recognise my divinity: "I Am" is exactly the name of God (Ex 3:14). In a condemned wretch the glory of God shines forth, and in John's vision the Lamb receives the same honours and acclamations as he who sits on the Throne. Secondly, with Revelation John wanted to support Christians in the hour of trial because on the cross Love conquered hatred and, after all, this is precisely the message of Revelation in support of persecuted Christians

*From the Gospel according to John (21, 1-19)

John specifies in this text the presence of seven apostles (21,2). Since the seven Churches of Revelation represent the whole Church, it can be assumed that the seven apostles indicate the disciples of all times, i.e. the whole Christian world. This chapter, as is often the case in the Fourth Gospel, is all symbolic. Let us look at just a few examples. 

1. When the boat touches the shore, despite the fact that the disciples find an embers fire with some fish and bread, Jesus asks them to bring the fish caught by them. Probably this is the message: in the work of evangelisation, since he called Peter "fisher of men", Jesus goes ahead of us (here is the fish already placed on the fire before the disciples arrive), but he always asks for our collaboration.

2. Another point is the dialogue between Jesus and Peter of which the Italian translation has tried to render in some way the subtlety of the Greek verb used for love. Commenting on verses 15-17 in the catechesis of 24 May 2006, Benedict XVI notes the use of the two verbs agapaō and phileō.  In Greek, phileō expresses the love of friendship, affectionate but not all-encompassing; agapaō, love without reserve. The first time Jesus asks Peter: "Simon... do you 'agapā̄s me'?" (21:15), i.e. "Do you love me with that total and unconditional love?", Peter however does not answer with agapaō but with phileō, saying: "Lord, I love you (phileō) as I know how to love". Jesus repeats the verb agapaō in the second question, but Peter insists with phileō. Finally, the third time, Jesus only asks "phileîs me?" and Simon understands that his poor love is enough for Jesus. One can say that Jesus adapted himself to Peter, rather than Peter to Jesus, and it is this adaptation of God that gives hope to the disciple, who has experienced the suffering of infidelity. As in the night between Thursday and Friday, Peter denied three times that he knew the man, now Jesus questions him three times: infinite delicacy to allow him to erase his threefold denial. Hence the confidence that will enable him to follow Christ to the end. 

3. Each time Jesus bases his demand on this adherence of Peter to entrust him with the ministry of shepherding the community: "Shepherd my sheep". Our relationship with Christ has meaning and truth if it fulfils a mission in the service of others. Jesus indeed specifies 'my' sheep: Peter is invited to share the 'burden' of Christ. He does not own the flock, but the care he devotes to Christ's flock will be the test of his love for Christ himself. When Jesus asks him if he loves me more than them, this is not to be understood as 'because you love me more than the others, I entrust the flock to you', but quite the opposite. Precisely because I entrust you with this task, you must love me more, and remember that in any ecclesial context, accepting a pastoral assignment entails a lot of gratuitous love. St Augustine comments: "If you love me, do not think that you are the shepherd; but shepherd my sheep as my own, not as your own."

4. We also have here an account of an apparition of the Risen One, but the term apparition should not mislead us because Jesus does not come from elsewhere and then disappear; on the contrary, he is permanently present with his disciples, with us as he had promised: "I am with you always, until the end of the world" (Mt 28:20). That is why it is better than apparition to use the term manifestation. Christ is Invisible, but not absent, and in the apparitions of then and of all times He makes Himself visible (in Greek: "He gives Himself to, He makes Himself seen"). These manifestations of Christ's presence are a support to strengthen our faith: full of concrete details, sometimes surprising, but with high symbolic value. 

5. What is the significance of the 153 fish? Apparently, exactly one hundred and fifty-three species of fish were known then. For St Eusebius of Caesarea, it is a symbolic way of indicating a maximum yield fishing. And later it becomes the theological symbol of the fullness of salvation wrought by Christ through the Church over the centuries that gathers all, Jews and Gentiles, into one faith.

NOTE: Chapter 20 of the Fourth Gospel concludes by saying that Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book because we believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and believing we have life in his name (20:30-31). It is therefore a good ending and why chapter 21? For many it was added later, almost as a postscriptum to clarify the issue of Peter's pre-eminence, already felt in the early Christian communities. Put another way, Peter's role in an account of Christ's appearance under the pen of St John may come as a surprise, and this points to one of the problems of the early Christian communities. This is why it seemed useful to remind the community linked to the memory of John that, by Christ's will, the pastor of the universal Church is Peter and not John. "When thou art old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall clothe thee, and bring thee whither thou wilt not" (v.18), a phrase that immediately follows the delivery to Peter: "shepherd my sheep" and seems to clearly indicate that the mission entrusted to Peter is one of service and not of domination. At the time, the belt was worn by travellers and servants: here is a double sign for the itinerant servants of the gospel. Peter died faithful in the service of the gospel; this is why John explains: Jesus "said this to indicate by what death he would glorify God"(v.19) and this suggests that this chapter is after Peter's death (during Nero's persecution in 66 or 67). It is generally thought that John's gospel was written very late and some even speculate (starting with Jn 21:23-24) that the final draft was written after his own death.

+Giovanni D'Ercole