EPIPHANY OF THE LORD

 

SHINING STAR – LIGHT FOR ALL PEOPLES

 

 

A land of passage, the subject of disputes, a crossroads of people, culture, race, and language! Palestine was invaded and occupied in turn by Egyptian Pharaohs and princes of Mesopotamia.

The desire to take revenge against the oppressors was long cultivated by Israel (Psalm 137:8-9), but retribution, retaliation, and revenge do not enter God's plans. Instead, an anonymous prophet of the third century B.C. reveals what God's dreams are. "On that day, the Egyptians and the Assyrians will worship the Lord together. Israel will be a third party with Egypt and Assyria—a blessing on earth. And Yahweh will bless them saying, 'Blessed be Egypt my people, Assyria my creation, and Israel my heritage'" (Is 19:23-25).

A surprising, unheard-of, and incredible prophecy: Israel is destined to be a mediator of salvation for her two historical enemies, the Assyrians, and the Egyptians. A century earlier, another prophet had announced: "The Lord will bring all the foreigners to his holy mountain and will give them joy in his house" (Is 56:6-7).

The dream of God comes true when a star appears in Israel, Christ the Lord, as the Lord has promised (Num 24:17). His light drives away the darkness created by ancestral hates and calls all the people into one family. This is the message of hope of the Epiphany, the feast of light.

 

"His light will make justice flourish, and peace abounds while the moon shines."

 

 

First Reading: Isaiah 60:1-6

Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines upon you. See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but upon you the Lord shines, and over you appears his glory. Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance. Raise your eyes and look about; they all gather and come to you: your sons come from afar, and your daughters in the arms of their nurses.

Then you shall be radiant at what you see, your heart shall throb and overflow, for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you, the wealth of nations shall be brought to you. Caravans of camels shall fill you, dromedaries from Midian and Ephah; all from Sheba shall come bearing gold and frankincense, and proclaiming the praises of the Lord. 

 

To understand this passage, one of the most poetic in the Bible, there are two premises, one historical and one geographical open the way. Let us start with the first. Commenting on the First Reading of Christmas day, we stressed the dramatic events of 587 B.C. leading to the destruction of Jerusalem. The humiliated city, reduced to a pile of rubble, appears to the eyes of the prophet like a widow sitting alone; dejected, desolated, without a man, and deprived of her children who have been kidnapped and exiled to a foreign land.

Years have passed, and any hope of the exiles' return from Babylon has become increasingly more hopeless. "The mistress of the nations" (Lm 1:1), "the pride of all the earth" (Is 62:7), who, in her moment of splendor was compared with an enchanting maiden courted by all, is now reduced to slavery, disconsolate, and senility.

And now the geographical premise: Jerusalem is situated on a mountain from whose sides run two valleys, Gehenna and Kedron. In the morning, when the sun rises, the city is surrounded by a bright light, while around the valleys, the darkness of the night prevails. In Hebrew, Kedron means "obscure."

In this historical and geographical context, the prophet reflects. It is dawn, and the first rays of the sun rising from the Mount of Olives illuminates the city. It is like a dream: suddenly, Jerusalem, the withered widow, becomes radiant and lovely, like the enchanting maiden of old; a mantle of light clothes it in a suit of many colors. The prophet comes, asking the city to throw away the signs of mourning, stand up and dry her tears because her husband, the Lord, who abandoned her in her infidelity, now wants her back (v. 1,4).

It is not only the groom that is back. The children, taken into exile, are also returned. She just needs to raise her eyes to see them (v. 4). They come back from afar, and their daughters are carried in the arms of those who had kidnapped them.

The vision continues. Now the prophet invites Jerusalem to look to the West: the horizon, among the Mediterranean waves. There appear mercantile ships of Phoenicia, Greece, and Tarshish, the mythical country where the sun concludes its course each day. They are laden with gifts for her, the blessed one (v. 5). From the east comes a troop of camels and dromedaries. They bring the exotic products of the desert of Arabia and the fabulous kingdoms of Sheba: spices, perfumes, gold, and commodities of great value.

What is the meaning of this extraordinary scene, and why is it proposed for the feast of the Epiphany? The prophet had in mind a dream: the return of the exiles from Babylon and the reunion of all the dispersed of Israel. It is a goal not easy to achieve because the Israelites are now well settled in the land of exile with no intention of facing new risks and uncertainties.

Some were not convinced, and they settled for good in Babylon. Those who returned were deluded: they found Jerusalem still in ruins, no lights burned, and from the desert and the sea, people came only to plunder. Despite their dismay and bewilderment, the sons and daughters of Israel never even dreamed that the Lord had deceived them or not fulfilled his promise. Even in the most challenging moments, the prophecy continued to be repeated: "The treasures of all nations will flow here" (Hg 2:7), "The kings of Tarshish and of the islands will bring offerings; the kings of Arabia and Saba will offer tributes" (Ps 72:10)

That day came, and the surprise caused by the intervention of God was so great that if the prophet himself were still alive, he would have been surprised and amazed. The light coming from Jerusalem and flooding the world is that of Easter. Since that day, all people have set out on their pilgrimage to "the mountain of the Lord" to the chosen community, the Church. It was on the mountain (Mt 5:14), as a sign to all people, the reign of peace on earth began.

Epiphany means "appearance of the Lord." In the East, where it began, this feast was instituted not to recall the Magi, but the birth of Jesus, the Christmas, the appearance of the light. In the West—where Christmas was celebrated on December 25—it was received in the fourth century. It became the feast of the "manifestation of the light of the Lord," It was not only a call to the Gentiles but the universal call to salvation in Christ to all peoples.

 

 

Second Reading: Ephesians 3:2-6

Brothers and sisters: You have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace that was given to me for your benefit, namely, that the mystery was made known to me by revelation. It was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel. 

 

The term mystery occurs twice in the Gospels—only in the famous phrase of Jesus to the apostles: "To you is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven" (Mk 4:11; Mt 13:11)—but it is used frequently in the letters of Paul and the Apocalypse.

With those words, it indicates Israel's role in God's plan for the world, a secret and inaccessible project prepared by him in heaven. The people—it was said—cannot understand because the ways and thoughts of the Lord are far away from ours as the heavens are above the earth (Is 55:9). Therefore, we can never know what God has in mind, where he wants to lead us, what is the end and the goal of creation.

At the time of Jesus, it was thought that God would reveal his arcane projects to some persons through dreams, visions, and raptures in the sky. In today's reading, Paul says that the way to attain knowledge of the mystery is different. Given charge of revealing the thoughts and plans of the Lord are not the visionaries, but the preachers, the apostles, and the prophets of the Christian communities. They receive from God the gift of complete understanding of his mystery. They come to understand why they are attentive to what the Lord accomplished amid his people: they contemplate his deeds and thus receive the revelation of what He has in mind for all eternity. Paul included himself among the elect who have discovered God's plan and who were involved in its implementation.

In the second part of the reading (vv. 5-6), the apostle finally clarifies what the mystery consists of: it is the salvation of all people. The legacy of the promises made to Abraham and his descendants is not an exclusive privilege of Israel but is shared by all peoples. In past generations, not even the most careful people had understood this plan of God.

They were convinced that the pagan nations are like nothing before God, nothing but vanity (Is 40:17). But now, in Christ, God reveals that even the Gentiles are "fellow heirs,""partakers" of the promises, and they form, together with the members of the chosen people, "one body" (v. 6).

Paul has already formulated this mystery of God in the previous chapter with moving words that are worth mentioning: "Remember that you were without Christ, you did not belong to the community of Israel: the covenants of God and his promises were not for you; you had no hope and were without God in this world. But now, in Christ Jesus and by his blood, you who were once far off have come near. For Christ is our peace; he who has made the two peoples one, destroying in his own flesh the wall—the hatred—which separated us, making peace. He came to proclaim peace; peace to you who were far off, peace to those who were near" (Eph 2:12-17).

The initial passage of this letter fits perfectly into the theme of this festival, celebrating the appearance of the light of Christ to the Gentiles.

 

 

Gospel: Matthew 2:1-12

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him. “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet: And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel.” Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.

 

From the earliest days of the Church, the magi have aroused keen interest among the faithful. They were one of the favorite themes of the early Christian artists: sarcophagi and paintings appear with the Nativity scene. However, Christians were not satisfied with the limited information that can be found in the Gospel text. Too many details are missing: where did they come from? How many were there? What were their names? What kind of transport did they use? What did they do after returning to their home countries? Where are they buried?

To answer these questions, many legends were born. First, it was said they were kings. They were three: one came from Africa, one from Asia and one from Europe, and that one was black, one yellow and one white. Guided by the star, they met at the same point, and then they walked together on the last stretch of the journey to Bethlehem. They were called Gaspar (the beardless youth and colorful), Melchior (the hoary old man with a long beard), Balthazar (the mature man with a beard). They were the symbols of the three ages of life. Camels and dromedaries served them for the trip.

After returning home, when they had already reached the ripe old age of 120 years, one day, they saw the star again. They departed and found themselves back together in a city of Anatolia to celebrate the Christmas Mass. On the same day, they were happy, and they died. Their remains went around the world: first in Constantinople, then to Milan until 1162, when they were transferred to the cathedral of Cologne, Germany.

These are pleasant and touching stories, but they must be kept accurately distinct from the Gospel story not to compromise the message that the sacred text wants to communicate. So, let us begin to clarify some details that in our minds are closely linked to the figure of the magi but which have nothing to do with what Matthew narrates.

First of all, it was not said that there were three or that they were magi or kings. They had to belong to the category of diviners, astrologers, well-known and appreciated people in antiquity for their wisdom, ability to interpret dreams, predict the future, and read the will of God through the ordinary or extraordinary events of life. So it is no wonder that Matthew has introduced the magi in his story. He has chosen them as a symbol of all the pagans who opened their eyes to the light of Christ, even before the Jews themselves.

Concerning the star, it was widely believed that the birth of a great person was accompanied by the appearance in the sky of his star: big for the wealthy, tiny for the poor, blurry for the weak. So, likewise, the appearance of a comet was thought to be a sign of the advent of a new emperor. But did the wise men really see a comet?

Many astronomers have devoted time and energy to check if two thousand years ago there appeared in the heavens a glaringly bright star at the time of the birth of Jesus. First, they found that in 12-11 B.C., the comet Halley passed. Then in the year 7 A.D., three times the conjunction of Jupiter (the star of kingship) with Saturn (the star of the Jews—according to Tacitus) was verified. They were admirable efforts. However, carried out in this way, the search for the comet of Bethlehem reminds me of the expedition to Ararat to find the ark of Noah.

Reading the text of Matthew, astronomers should quickly realize that the evangelist does not allude to an astronomical phenomenon. The wise men saw the star that preceded them while going from Jerusalem to Bethlehem; then, a star guides them from north to south. This is really strange! All celestial bodies move from east to west. The star referred to by Matthew is not to be found in the heavens but in the Bible. The evangelist writes for readers familiar with the centuries of the Old Testament for centuries and are waiting to see the appearance of a star mentioned in a mysterious prophecy in the book of Numbers.

In Numbers 22–24, there was a curious story of Balaam and his talking donkey. Balaam was a soothsayer, a magus of the East, just like the ones mentioned in the Gospel today. One day he unwittingly makes a prophecy: "I see it, but it is not an event that will happen shortly; I behold him but not near. A star shall come forth from Jacob, a king, born of Israel, rises … One of Jacob will dominate over his enemies" (Num 24:17-19).

So Balaam, "the man of penetrating eye" (Num 24:3) spoke, about 1,200 years before the birth of Jesus. Since then, the Israelites began to wait anxiously for the rising of this star that heralded none other than the Messiah himself. Presenting to us the wise men of the East who see the star, the evangelist wants to tell his readers: the expected deliverer rose from the descendant of Jacob. It is Jesus. He is the star.

Should we then remove the comet from our cribs? No! Let us contemplate the star and point it out to our children, but we must explain that the star is not a star in the sky, but it is Jesus. He is the light that enlightens every person (Jn 1:9). He is the brilliant morning star (Rev 22:16).

Matthew writes in the 80s A.D. What does he verify? He notes that the heathens entered en masse into the church. They recognized and adored the star, while the Jews, who were waiting for so many centuries, refused him recognition. Therefore, the story of the magi is a "parable" of what was happening in the Christian community at the end of the first century. The pagans who sought the truth with honesty and perseverance have received from God the light.

Matthew highlights another point: the magi (the symbol of the pagan peoples) would never have come to Christ if the Jews, with their Scriptures, had not shown them the way. Israel may not have followed the star but still accomplished her mission. She was the mediator of salvation for all peoples.

Now we try to connect today's Gospel with the First Reading. The prophet said that when in Jerusalem the light of the Lord shines, all nations would be on their way to the holy city, bringing their gifts. With the magi's story, Matthew tells us that this prophecy is fulfilled: guided by the light of the Messiah, the Gentiles (represented by the magi) make their way to Jerusalem to bring gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The popular piety applied to each of these gifts a symbolic meaning: gold indicates the recognition of Jesus as king; incense represents the adoration in front of his divinity; myrrh recalls his humanity—this fragrant resin will be remembered during the passion (Mk 15:23; Jn 19:39).

Even the story of the caravan was not invented for nothing. Today's First Reading speaks to us of "a troop of camels and dromedaries" coming from the East (Isaiah 60:6). Unlike the shepherds who contemplated and rejoiced in the salvation that the Lord had revealed to them, the magi prostrated themselves in worship (v. 11). Their gesture recalls the ceremony of a court—the prostration and kissing of the king's feet—or kissing the ground before the image of the deity. The pagans have therefore recognized as their king and their God the child of Bethlehem and offered him their gifts.

They have become the symbol of people around the world who are led by the light of Christ. They are the Church's image, made up of people of every race, tribe, language, and nation. Entering the Church does not mean giving up one's identity. It does not mean submitting to an unjust and false uniformity. Every person and every people maintain their cultural characteristics. With these, they enrich the universal Church. Nobody is so rich as not to need anything and not so poor as not having anything to offer.

 

READ: John the Baptist is a prophet pointing out the presence and demands of God. John preaches repentance. He recognizes the divine in Jesus, and at Jesus' insistence, baptizes him.

REFLECT: Our baptism makes us sons and daughters of God. It confirms our being loved by God. How often must the baptized "rethink' how they are living according to the teachings of Jesus? Our baptism confirms our being loved by God and provides us with the mission to love others like His Son Jesus.

PRAY: Let us claim God's love in Jesus. Then, we pray for the audacity to express this love to others, especially those who need it most.

ACT: Think of someone you want to share God's love with but do not dare to do so. Try to do something about it now!

 

 

THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY, MOTHER OF GOD

 

NEW YEAR'S DAY

 

 

BLESS, DON'T CURSE: IT IS THE WAY OF PEACE

 

 

Christians have always connected the traditional New Year's feast to a motive of their faith. Before the liturgical reform of the Second Vatican Council, Jesus' circumcision was celebrated on this feast. It took place, according to Luke, eight days after his birth (Lk2:21). Then this day was dedicated to Mary, Mother of God. From 1968, January 1 became the "World Day of Peace" promulgated by Pope Paul VI. The readings reflect a variety of themes: the blessing to begin the New Year well (First Reading); Mary, model of every mother and disciple (Gospel); peace (First Reading and the Gospel); the divine sonship (Second Reading); amazement before God's love (Gospel); the name with which God wishes to be identified and invoked (First Reading and the Gospel).

"To bless" and "blessing" are terms that often occur in the Bible. They could be found on almost every page (552 times in the Old Testament, 65 times in the New Testament). From the beginning, God blesses his creatures — all living beings — that they be fruitful and multiply (Gen 1:22), the man and the woman that they rule over all creation (Gen1:28), and the Sabbath, a sign of rest and joy without end (Gen 2:3). 

We need to feel blessed by God and by the brethren. "Cursing" distances, separates, and indicates a refusal, while "blessing" on the other hand approaches, strengthens solidarity, and infuses trust and hope. "May the Lord bless you and protect you": these are the first words that the liturgy utters on this day. May they be impressed on our hearts,and may we repeat them to friends and enemies throughout the year.

 

"Teach us, O Lord, to bless those who insult us,

to bear with those who persecute us,

to confront those who slander us."

 

First Reading: Numbers 6:22-27

The Lord said to Moses: “Speak to Aaron and his sons and tell them: This is how you shall bless the Israelites. Say to them: The Lord bless you and keep you! The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you! The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace! So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites, and I will bless them.” 

 

The market for blessings and curses, magic spells, fractures (I don't understand this word in this context), and casting an evil eye is still flourishing. It was even more flourishing in ancient times when it was thought that the term—especially when accompanied by gestures and pronounced by one gifted with superhuman and mysterious powers—would bring to completion what it expressed.

The Word of God was naturally retained as always efficacious. "With his word he created the heavens; he speaks and all is made, he commands and all exist" (Ps 33:6,9). They trembled at his curses, and they invoked his blessings. He blessed his people when He filled them with good things: when he extended prosperity and health, success and victory, rain and fruitfulness to the fields and animals (Deut 28:1-8). Misfortune, disease, famine, defeat were all signs of his curse (Deut 28:15-19).

There were also mediators of divine blessings: the father of the family "The blessing of the father strengthens the homes of the sons" (Sir 3:9), the king (Gen 14:18 ff), and the priests. Our reading refers to the text of the most famous of blessings taught by the Lord himself to Moses. It was to be used by the "sons of Aaron … to put the name of the Lord on the Israelites" (vv. 23,27). It was used at the end of the daily liturgy in the temple. The priest came out of the sanctuary's door and stretching his hands over the crowd waiting for him, he uttered this sacred formula.

In it, the name of the Lord—JHWH—is invoked three times. It is an ineffable name that only priests could pronounce and only to bless, never to curse.

To each of the three invocations of the holy name, two requests are added:

These are six images that express the request for grace and favor. The radiant face is a sign of friendship and benevolence, inspires trust, and opens the heart to a joyful hope. With very human language, the pious Israelite often asks the Lord to "cheer up his face"and not "to hide his face" (Psalm 27:9), not to show himself angry. "Let your face shine—the psalmist implores—and we shall be saved" (Psalm 80:4): "let the light of your face shine on us, Lord" (Ps 4:7). 

It is not only God that blesses the person but also the person who is called to bless God. In the Psalms, the invitation insistently returns: "Bless the Lord, all of you, servants of the Lord …Raise your hands towards the sanctuary and bless the Lord" (Ps 134:1-2); "Bless his name … tell of his glory, to all the nations tell his prodigies" (Ps 96:2-3). The pious Israelite starts all his prayers with the formula: "Blessed are you, Lord …."

The blessing that a person addresses to the Lord is the response to what has been received. It is the sign that he is aware that all good comes from God, that all is a gift. The Bible continuously speaks of God's blessing and—very rarely—of his curses. It deals in human language to describe the disastrous consequences provoked not by God but by sin. The one who strays from the way of life brings upon themself the worst of misfortunes. The sage Ben Sirach already understood this: "The evil is poured on him who does it" (Sir 27:27). From God, only blessing comes.

What answer has the Lord given to the petitions of his people? Israel waited for a blessing from the Lord: peace, a very materialistic shalom. In the fullness of time, God has sent his peace, his Son "he is our peace" (Eph 2:14). The surprise was so great it made Paul exclaim: "Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, in Christ" (Eph 1:3) and to Zachary: "Blessed be the Lord the God of Israel who has visited and redeemed his people" (Lk 1:68). 

God has sent his Son to bring blessing (Acts 3:25-26). In him, all curses are transformed into blessings (Gal 3:8-14). If in Christ, God has always revealed his benedictory face, man must always bless, including one's enemies. "Bless and do not curse" (Rom 12:14), "do not render evil for evil, insult for insult, but on the contrary, answer by blessing, because for this you are called to have a blessing in inheritance" (1 P 3:9).

 

Second Reading: Galatians 4:4-7

Brothers and sisters: When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. As proof that you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” So you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then also an heir, through God.

 

In this passage from the Letter to the Galatians, Paul recalls the central truth of the Gospel: after God has sent his Son "born of a woman," (4:4) that is, similar to all of us, except sin, we can call God: "Abba, Father" (4:6). This is the good news.

The pagans also called God "father of all people." What do Christians specifically mean? Why does Paul movingly affirm that now a Christian is no longer a slave but a son or a daughter and can, therefore, shout: "Abba?" Is the "Our Father" a prayer that all people can recite?

To the last question, all of us will probably answer: "yes," and there is a Gospel text that justifies this answer. "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on both the wicked and the good, and he gives rain to both the just and the unjust" (Mt 5:44-45). The benevolence of God does not make a distinction among people; all are his children. God is the father of all people.

But when a pagan and a Christian invoke God as "father," they don't mean the same thing. The pagan calls God "father" because he is conscious of receiving the gift of existence. Christians identify themselves as a son or a daughter of God at another level: they know that besides existence, they have received the Spirit from him, a sharing in his very own divine life. For this reason, in the first centuries, our Father's prayer was presented only some days before Baptism, that is, only when the catechumen understood its meaning fully.

The reading is also tied to the theme of the Feast of Peace. Those who receive the Spirit and call God "Abba" cannot but feel brother/sister to all people and become a builder of peace. 

 

Gospel: Luke 2:16-21

The shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.

When eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus, the name given him by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. 

 

 

Today's Gospel is a continuation of the passage read during Midnight Mass. Beside the manger of Jesus, the shepherds again appear. Following the news received from heaven, they go to Bethlehem and find Joseph, Mary, and the baby in a manger. One notes that they do not find anything extraordinary. They see only a baby with his father and his mother.

Nevertheless, from that weak being, needing help and protection, they recognize the Savior. They do not require great signs; they do not verify miracles and prodigies. The shepherds represent all the poor; the excluded that, almost by instinct, acknowledge in the baby of Bethlehem the Messiah from heaven.

In the depictions, the shepherds appear in general to be on their knees before Jesus. But the Gospel does not say that they were prostrated in adoration, as the magi were (Mt2:11). They simply observed—amazed in ecstasy—the marvelous work that God has done in their favor. Then they announced to others their joy, and all were astonished at what they heard (v. 18).

In the first chapters of his Gospel, Luke often reveals the marvel and the immense joy of the persons who felt involved in God's plan. Having discovered herself pregnant, Elizabeth repeats to all: "This for me is the Lord's doing" (Lk 1:25). Simeon and the prophetess Anna bless God, who has granted them the sight of the salvation prepared for all the people (Luke 2:30-38); Mary and Joseph are also amazed and astonished (Lk2:33,38).

All of them have the eyes and heart of a baby that accompanies with a glance each gesture of the father. He remains enraptured by his gesture, and he smiles. He smiles because in all that the father does: he sees a sign of his love. "For the Kingdom of God belong to such as these—Jesus says one day—and whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it" (Mk 10:14-15). 

The first worry of the shepherds is not ethical: they do not ask what they must do, what changes they need to bring to their not so exemplary moral lives, or what sins they must undertake to avoid. They stand to enjoy that which God has done. Only after feeling loved can they listen to advice, the proposals of a new life poured upon them by the Father. Only in this way will they come to find themselves in a suitable condition to trust him.

In the second part of the Gospel (v. 19), the reaction of Mary to the story of the shepherds was emphasized: "She treasured all these words, and pondered them in her heart" (literally: she put them together).

Luke does not mean to say that Mary "had in mind" all that happened without forgetting any detail. And he does not even want—as some have maintained—to indicate Mary as being a source of information on the infancy of Jesus. The theological significance of his affirmation is far greater. He says that Mary "gathered together all the facts," bound them, and captured the meaning; she discovered the connecting link; she contemplated the realization of God's plan. Mary (a 12-13-year-old girl) was not superficial. She did not take pride in herself when things went well, nor did she lose heart in the face of difficulties. She meditated and observed with an attentive eye on each event to not be pre-conditioned by her people's ideas, convictions, and traditions but be receptive to and prepared for God's surprises.

A certain Marian devotion has distanced her from our world, from our human condition of anguish, doubt, and uncertainty, and from our difficulty in believing. It wrapped her in a cloud of privilege that, in some cases, left her admired or envied but not loved. Luke presents her in a balanced perspective, as a sister who fulfilled a journey of faith, similar to ours.

Mary does not understand everything from the beginning. She marvels at what Simeon says of the child. She is almost taken by surprise (Lk 2:33). She was amazed before God's work, as were the apostles and all the people (Lk 9:43-45). She does not understand the words of her son who chose to commit himself to the Father's affairs (Luke 2:50) as the Twelve had difficulty in understanding the words of the Teacher: "They could make nothing of this; the meaning of these words remained a mystery to them, and they did not understand what he said" (Lk 18:34).

Mary does not understand but observes, meditates, reflects, and only after Easter (not before) will she come to understand everything; she will clearly see the meaning of that which happened. Luke will present her, for the last time, at the beginning of the book of the Acts of the Apostles. He will put her in her place, in the community of believers: "All of these together gave themselves to constant prayer. With them were some women and also Mary, the mother of Jesus, and his brothers" (Acts 1:14). She was blessed because she believed (Luke 1:45).

Today's Gospel concludes with the report on the circumcision. With this rite, Jesus officially becomes part of the people of Israel. But this is not the principal reason for Luke in recalling this fact. He is interested in another detail, the name given to the child, a name that was not chosen by the parents but was indicated directly from heaven.

For the people of the Ancient Orient, the name was not only to indicate who the person was or distinguish them from animals or objects; it was more than that. It expressed the very nature of things; it became the person it identified. Abigail tells of her husband: "He is just what his name says. He is called Nabal (literally "a fool") and he is a fool" (1 S 25:25). To be called by the name of the other meant to impersonate them, to make them present, having their very own authority, to call on their protection (Deut 28:10).

Keeping in mind this cultural context, we can understand the importance that Luke attributes to the name given to the child. He is called Jesus, which means "the Lord saves." Matthew explains: he was called such because he will save his people from their sins (Mt 1:21).

In the commentary on the First Reading, we said that the name of God—JHWH—could not be pronounced. But without a name, he remains anonymous. If someone does not know our name, only a superficial relationship is possible. If God wants to enter intodialogue with a person, he must tell that person how he would like to be called; he must indicate his name and reveal his identity. He did. Choosing the name of His Son, God said who He is.

Here is His identity: He who saves, He who does nothing but saves. In the Gospels, this name is repeated 566 times, almost to remind us that images of God that are incompatible with this name must be deleted. Now we understand why in the Old Testament God did not allow his name to be pronounced because it is only in Jesus that he would have told us who he was.

In Luke's Gospel, it is interesting to note that those who called Jesus by name are not the just or the perfect, but only those who are marginalized, those who are at the mercy of the forces of evil. They are the possessed (Lk 4:34), the lepers: "Jesus, teacher, have mercy on us" (Lk 17:13), the blind: "Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38) and the criminal who dies on the cross beside him: "Jesus, remember me when you enter into your kingdom" (Lk 23:42).

Peter will remind the religious leaders of his people: "No other name in fact under heaven is given to people, through whom they are saved" (Acts 4:12).

 

READ: God teaches Moses and Aaron the formula for blessing in God's name. In and through Mary, the blessing takes flesh and lives among people. Shepherds receive and witness to the blessing incarnate. 

REFLECT: The year begins with the message of blessing. God's blessing comes to us through the mediation of people around us—like the instrumentality of Moses, Aaron, and Mary. We are, in turn, called to be carriers of this blessing into the lives of others—like the shepherds did. Am I ready to be a conduit of God's blessing?

PRAY: Baby Jesus, bless me and make my life a blessing for the people around me.

ACT: On this first day of the New Year, bless your family members/community using the formula of blessing given by Yahweh.

 

FEAST OF THE HOLY FAMILY – YEAR C 

 

NEITHER DEVALUED NOR IDOLIZED

 

 

‘Children are God's gift to the world, and they belong to everyone.’ Here is a phrase that sometimes provokes the jealousy of mothers, jealousy a symptom of a possessive love for their son who is increasingly unique, overprotected, pampered, over-defended. The family is the privileged place of formation and education, but not the only one. There is a community in which the child must be integrated to grow, mature, meet others and learn to be welcoming, freely available, cooperative, tolerant, and forgiving.

Narrowing horizons, complacently retreating into the small world of affections and interests, enclosing oneself within narrow borders that ignore universal brotherhood is a dangerous idolatry of the family institution. The family willed by God is open; it is a stage towards the ultimate goal; it is a springboard from which to project oneself into the family of the heavenly Father.

The moment of separation can be painful—Mary and Joseph experienced it when Jesus left them—and can be interpreted as rejection and exclusion. In reality, it is a leap into life.

 

"Children are your gift to the world, Lord.

Let us not reject them or take possession of them."

 

First Reading: 1 Samuel 1:20-22,24-28

 

When God presented to the man the one who was to be the companion of his life, Adam rejoiced with joy and exclaimed: She will be called Eve—in Hebrew hawwah—which is not a proper name but simply means the one who gives life. Life is, therefore, the identity of a woman; everything in her speaks of life, of welcoming, of availability, of life service. In her, life blossoms, germinates, grows and is delivered to the world.

The desire to have a child is rooted in the biological constitution of every woman. Rachel, barren, says to Jacob: "Give me children, or else I shall die!" (Gen 30:1). Like so many other brides in the Bible, Anna could not bear children and therefore suffered immensely. "Why are you weeping," her husband Elkanah asked her one day, "am I not better for you than ten sons?" (1 Sam 1:8). No, not even the tenderness of a sweet and caring spouse was able to compensate for her irrepressible need for motherhood.

God listened to her insistent prayer and granted her a child, Samuel, destined to play a decisive role in the history of the people of Israel. Anne was certainly tempted to consider her only son, the one given to her by heaven, as her own and keep him only for herself. Instead, as soon as he was weaned, she went with her husband to the sanctuary of Shiloh and handed him over to the Lord.

She raised him as long as he needed her, then, happy to have done well in her role as mother, she entrusted him to those who would help him understand the vocation to which God was calling him, to Eli, the priest of the temple. No child belongs to his parents; it is only entrusted to them. It is a precious gift that must be guarded, made to grow, and prepared for the mission to which the Lord destines it. Aware of the arduous task, the parents, grateful to God who deemed them worthy of such trust, do not appropriate the gift received but are happy to hand it over to the Lord so that it may be his instrument in the realization of his plans for the world.

Anna and Elkanah—the narrative notes—came to the house of the Lord in Shiloh, bringing a three-year-old heifer, an ephah of flour, and a jar of wine, and the child was with them (v. 24). They went to celebrate a feast, not to mourn, even though they understood they would return home alone.

With parents so sensitive and attentive to God's plans, it is not surprising that their son Samuel went on to become one of the eminent figures in Israel's history. In the Bible, he is called a seer, a priest, a judge, a prophet, and he wisely guided Israel at a tough time.

 

Second Reading: 1 John 3:1-2,21-24

 

The life of God that the Christian receives in baptism is a spiritual, mysterious reality.In speaking to Nicodemus, Jesus used a comparison to describe it: it is like the wind, we cannot see it, we do not know where it comes from or where it goes, yet we know that it exists, we feel it, we notice its effects. The divine life in man cannot be verified with the senses, yet the signs of its presence are unmistakable. Whoever has welcomed it becomes a new man, guided by a spirit no longer of this world.

The passage from John's letter begins with an exclamation of joy: “What great love the Father has given us to be called children of God, and we are truly so!” (v. 1). In the Semitic mentality, children not only gave continuity to the biological life of the father but were considered to make him genuinely present. For this reason, it was expected that the parent would be recognizable in them: by their outward appearance and facial features, certainly, but above all by their moral integrity, their fidelity to God, and the most significant aspects of their character.

The authentic Christian is, in the world, the presence of the divine and, like every son, reproduces the likeness of the Father who is in heaven. The consequence—John explains—is that those who do not know God cannot even recognize the children who he has generated (v. 1). These make choices in harmony with the thoughts and feelings of the Father; they resemble him, they are different from others, they are ‘holy.’ It is not surprising, then, that they are not understood by those who turn their gaze solely to the realities of the earth.

Paul also recalls this truth to the Christians of Corinth. The Lord's disciples, he declares, possess a wisdom, a way to evaluate the reality of this world that is incompatible with the criteria of the judgment of the rulers of this world. It is “a divine, mysterious wisdom that none of the rulers of this world has known ... The natural man cannot understand the things of the Spirit of God. They are foolishness to him, and he is not able to understand” (1 Cor 2:6-14).

After reminding Christians of the dignity of their divine filiation—“we are God’s children”—the author of the letter invites them to contemplate the radiant destiny that awaits them: “What we shall be has not yet been revealed” (v. 2). The present condition is not final. A veil, constituted by our mortal reality tied to the earth, prevents us from realizing what we really are. One day this veil will be removed, and then we will contemplate God as he is and understand what we already are.

In the mother's womb, the child receives nourishment and life from the mother, yet he cannot see her face although entirely dependent on her. Only after birth can he look at and tenderly embrace the one who gave birth to him.

In this world, man lives his gestation while waiting for the moment of birth. He finds himself in the womb of God, who is father and mother. "In him we live and move and exist," Paul reminds the Athenians (Acts 17:28), but we cannot see his face. We know, however, that when he is manifested, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is (v. 2).

Resemblance to our biological parents is an image of the vocation to which we are called: to be like our heavenly Father, “who makes his sun rise on the wicked and on the good, and makes it rain on the just and on the unjust” (Mt 5:45).

In the face of such a sublime goal, we are tempted to resign ourselves to failure. Even as we strive to live consistently, we realize that we remain sinners, and John reminds us of this at the beginning of his letter, "If we say that we are without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us" (1 Jn 1:8).

If we take stock of our lives, we are forced to admit that we have made many mistakes, we realize that we have been conditioned by faults and habits that we have not been able to correct; for this reason, we cannot free ourselves from the thought that God also rejects and condemns us, as does our heart. To these perplexities and anxieties, the reading responds with one of the most moving statements in the entire Bible.

If we commit ourselves to concrete love for our brother or sister, we need no longer be afraid of our miseries, our frailties, or even of the severe judgment pronounced by our heart. Whatever our heart may reproach us for, we will be able to reassure it because "God is greater than our heart" (v. 20).

The most devious, the most sinister of temptations is the one that makes us adore a God who, in reality, is smaller than our heart, a God who one day will appear, a severe and inflexible judge, to punish those on whom he does not see the image of his Only Begotten, Jesus Christ, shining clearly. Our heart continually reminds us of our identity as children of our heavenly Father and rebukes us when this identity is disfigured. This rebuke is healthy, but woe betides us when we forget that God is bigger than our hearts.

 

Gospel: Luke 2:41-52

Our families, we are sure, cannot be offered a better model of life than that of the family of Nazareth; however, the fact recounted in today's Gospel is somewhat disturbing. Mary and Joseph forget their son in Jerusalem, and for one day, they walk quietly without worrying about him; Jesus leaves his parents without asking for any permission, and when his mother asks him for an explanation of his behavior, he even seems to respond badly to her; Mary and Joseph do not understand his words; only at the end, they remember that Jesus returns to Nazareth and, from there on, he remains submissive to them; this is an excellent decision, but how do we explain his previous ‘disobedience’? It is undeniable that read as a chronicle, this passage presents some difficulties. How to interpret it?

We know that a chance encounter with a person is told quite differently if they arenever seen again or have become a best friend. Luke does not write his Gospel the day after the events occurred, but about fifty years after Easter and in every page of his work, he lets faith in the risen Christ shine through. The death and resurrection of Jesus made him and the Christians of his communities understand what Mary and Joseph, seventy years earlier, could not yet grasp. Already in the child of twelve, he recognized the Christ, the Son of God, the Savior, the one who is obedient to the Father to the point of giving his life. After this introduction, let us go into today's passage.

The Israeli law prescribed (only for adult men) a pilgrimage to Jerusalem three times a year on the main feasts (Ex 23:17; Deut 16:16). For those who lived far away, however, it was practically impossible to observe this precept. Many Jews already considered it a great good fortune to make the holy journey even once in a lifetime. Mary and Joseph, who lived in Nazareth, about three days' journey from Jerusalem, went up there every year to celebrate the Passover.

It was during one of these pilgrimages that the event narrated in today's Gospel occurred. Jesus is twelve years old; he is, therefore, almost of age (at thirteen in Israel, one becomes an adult and must observe all the precepts of the law).

The temple is a splendid building, surrounded by large porticoes under which the rabbis and scribes explain the sacred Scriptures, recite Psalms, and distribute their pious advice to the pilgrims. Jesus is eager to discover the will of the Father, and he knows where to find it: in the holy books of his people, in the Bible. This is the reason why he stops in Jerusalem: he wants to understand the word of God. Walking in the temple during the days of the feast, perhaps he was struck by the explanations given by some teacher who was better prepared and more pious than the others, and he wanted to listen to him again, he tried to ask him questions, he tried to clarify his doubts. The pilgrims who heard him conversing with the rabbis stopped in amazement and admiration for his intelligent and extraordinary intelligence. It is not easy to find a boy of his age who shows such love for the Bible and can raise such profound questions.

The purpose of Luke's account is not to emphasize Jesus' intelligence but to prepare the reader to understand the answer he gives to his mother, who is worried and surprised by his behavior. These are the first words he pronounces in Luke's Gospel; therefore, theyhave particular importance; they are like the program of his whole life. The answer is formulated with two questions: "Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must attend to the things of my Father?" (v. 49).

Children are wont to ask countless questions; Jesus indeed asked his parents many as well. This is the first time they cannot give him an answer, so their amazement is noted: "They did not understand his words" (v. 50). They realize that he is beginning to distance himself from the narrow family environment and is opening to a broader horizon. He was born into a family, but he does not belong to it. Like every child, he is a citizen of the world and is a gift from God to all humanity.

In apparent contrast to what we are saying, the last part of today's Gospel (vv. 51-52) emphasizes that Jesus returns to Nazareth and is submissive to his parents. It would seem that after the escapade, he gets better at exercising judgment. The meaning of the statement, however, is different. In Israel, there is a commandment to ‘honor one's parents.’ This implies a duty to help them in their old age, but more importantly, follow their religious faith. Parents are charged with telling their children what the Lord has done for his people (Deut 6:20-25). Obeying parents means accepting their teachings and imitating their faithfulness to God. In this sense, Jesus honored his parents, assimilated their deep faith in the God of Abraham and love for God's word to which he would constantly refer throughout his life.

We could end here, but biblical scholars invite a deeper reading of this passage. They are convinced that Luke wrote it to recall, from the very beginning of his Gospel, the facts of the death-resurrection of Jesus in a symbolic way. Which ones? I shall recall some of them.

First, both episodes take place in Jerusalem on the feast of Passover. Both times Jesus goes up to Jerusalem to fulfill the will of the Father, and both times everyone returns to their homes and leaves him alone: his parents go away. They do not understand that he must take care of his Father's affairs; the apostles abandon him and do not understand how the gift of life leads to the glory of the resurrection (Lk 24:12).

As in today's Gospel, in the Easter stories, Jesus must do the Father's will (Lk 24:7,26, 44). The women desperately seek him, do not find him, and hear the same question, "Why do you seek?" (Lk 24:5). Jesus (risen) is encountered ‘on the third day’; the disciples (like Mary and Joseph) understand neither what has happened nor the words that are addressed to them. On Easter Day Jesus sits as a teacher and asks questions about the Scriptures (Lk 24:44), teaches the word of God in a way that ‘warms the heart’ and enraptures his hearers (Lk 24:32), just as he did as a child.

In the temple, the rabbis ask Jesus questions. Although they know the Bible well, they cannot grasp its ultimate meaning. There is only one person who can illuminate the darkness of those texts: Jesus. For it is he who, after the Resurrection, opens the minds of his disciples to the understanding of the Scriptures (Lk 24:32). The Old Testament becomes comprehensible only when it is read in light of Christ's death and resurrection.

If these references to the events of the Passover are intentional—as biblical scholars believe—then the purpose for which Luke included this episode in his Gospel becomes clear: he wants the Christians of his communities not to be discouraged if they are still unable to understand or accept the Father's plan. It is not easy to accept the idea that life passes through death. He invites them not to flee; he wants them to return to Jerusalem where, by observing and listening to the Master, they will gradually allow their hearts to open to the Father's will.

In the face of events that are often inexplicable and incomprehensible, there is only one correct attitude: ‘Keep all things in our hearts,’—as Mary did, and meditate on them in the light of God's word. Even for her, it was not easy to understand and accept the path on which God wanted her son to set out.

 

THE BIRTH OF THE LORD – Mass of the day

 

GOD HAS REVEALED HIS JUSTICE

 

 

From the beginning, humankind’s history—the Bible tells us—is a series of sins. In Genesis Chapter 6, the sacred author, with a bold anthropomorphism, says: "The Lord saw how great was the wickedness of man on earth and that evil was always the only thought of his heart. The Lord regretted having created man on the earth and his heart grieved" (Gen 6:5-6).

In the fullness of time, God has intervened to bring about justice. The Responsorial Psalm (97:1-6) proposed to us by the liturgy today says to reveal his justice to the eyes of the people. We know of only one justice, the forensic one, the remunerative justice administered by judges in courts where punishments proportionate to the crime committed are applied. This is not God’s justice. "He is God and not man" (Hos 11:9). God does not respond to sin with retaliation and revenge but by giving the most extraordinary proof of his love, giving to the world his Son.

Some theology of the past recklessly applied to God our justice and presented him as an executioner. It resulted in a Christian dispenser of fear, not an announcer of the Kingdom, which is “justice, peace and joy” (Rom 14:17).

At Christmas, God reveals the immensity of His unconditional love. This is his justice. All people are invited to contemplate with wonder and let themselves be freed from fear because "there is no fear in love. Perfect love drives away fear, for fear has to do with punishment: those who fear do not know perfect love"(1 Jn 4:18).

 

​"Oh Lord, how different from mine is your righteousness." 

 

First Reading: Isaiah 52:7-10

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation, saying to Zion, “YourGod is King!”

Hark! Your sentinels raise a cry, together they shout for joy, for they see directly, before their eyes, the Lord restoring Zion. Break out together in song, O ruins of Jerusalem! For the Lord comforts his people, he redeems Jerusalem. The Lord has bared his holy arm in the sight of all the nations; all the ends of the earth will behold the salvation of our God

 

On a dramatic day of July in the year 587 B.C, the soldiers of Nebuchadnezzar opened a breach in the walls of Jerusalem and entered the city. They burned the temple, the royal palace, and the houses. They took all non-disabled men prisoners and deported them to Babylon. They left alive in the country just a few of the poor as tenants and farmers (2 K 25:8-12). 

In Babylon, the first years were hard, painful, and sad. The lyrics of the exile’s famous song is its melancholy echo: "By the streams of Babylon, we sat and wept as we remembered Zion" (Ps 137:1). A disturbing question was added to the bitterness, humiliation of the defeat, the pain of losing loved ones, nostalgia for the land: why has the Lord abandoned us into the hands of our enemies?

They unanimously concluded that the dull and foolish rulers who had governed them were primarily responsible for the disaster. They had not listened to the prophets but instead had led them to ruin. But we, too, are guilty. We become ensnared and are responsible for too many iniquities. Who now can be free from slavery? Will the Lord always be angry with us? Has he repudiated his bride Israel forever?

The Lord's answer was immediate: "Who could abandon his first beloved?” - says your God – “For a brief moment I have abandoned you, but with great tenderness, I will gather my people ... Though the mountains may depart and the hills be moved, but never will my love depart from you" (Is 54:6-10).

In fact, the Lord "has not forgotten his love or his faithfulness to Israel" (Ps 98:3) but has decided to free his people. It is at this point of the story that our reading is inserted. A prophet sent by God to preach the word of consolation to his people appears in Babylon. He is so convinced of the faithfulness of the Lord that he speaks as if the exile had already ended. The future for him is already a reality. He sees the caravan of exiles heading to Jerusalem. A messenger precedes her; he runs as if he had wings on his feet because he wants to be the first to give the good news of the arrival of the deportees.

The prophet imagines himself contemplating the scene from the top of the mountain overlooking Jerusalem and exclaims: "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who herald peace and happiness, who proclaim salvation" (Is 52:7).

Then the ‘dream’ continues. Joy explodes in the city. What happens? He observes and sees the sentries who, from the top of the wall, examine the horizon. Suddenly, behold they run to proclaim good news to all: they recognize the exiles returning from Babylon in the column of approaching people.

At this point, the scene becomes great: The sentries see the Lord at the head of the caravan, which triumphantly advances. It is he who leads his people to Jerusalem (v. 8). He has never abandoned her. In a vision, the prophet Ezekiel saw the glory of the Lord departing the destroyed holy city and following his people fled into exile (Ezk 10:18-19; 11:22-23). Now they return together.

Slavery is over; suffering and humiliation are ended. The wicked leaders and kings, the villainous shepherds who had exploited and oppressed the people, are gone forever. A new era starts, a realm in which the Lord will be established to guide his people.

The reading concludes with an invitation directed by the Prophet to the ruins of Jerusalem: "Break into shouts of joy" (v. 9). The ruined walls will be rebuilt, and all the peoples of the earth will behold, amazed at the incredible work that the God of Israel was able to accomplish (v. 10).

This is the ‘dream’ of the Prophet recounted in the reading. What happened after that? Around 520 B.C., a group of exiles left Babylon; however, there was no explosion of joy upon their arrival at Jerusalem. Their return was anything but a triumph. The reception was very cold; quarrels broke out between residents and the newly arrived. Was the prophet mistaken, was he fooled?

The people began to understand. The return from Babylon was only the image of another deliverance that God intended to accomplish. Israel would have preferred that the prophecy was immediately and literally realized because she had understood it in a material sense. She thought that God would put his power at the disposal of her dreams of glory. She had got it wrong. It was another amazing ‘return’ that God had in mind; that one would provoke a universal, irrepressible joy.

 

Second Reading: Hebrews 1:1-6

Brothers and sisters: In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, he has spoken to us through the Son, whom he made heir of all things and through whom he created the universe, who is the refulgence of his glory, the very imprint of his being, and who sustains all things by his mighty word. When he had accomplished purification from sins, he took his seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high, as far superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

For to which of the angels did God ever say: You are my son; this day I have begotten you? Or again: I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me? And again, when he leads the firstborn into the world, he says: Let all the angels of God worship him. 

 


 One does not speak only with the tongue. A darkened face, a smile, a simple glance, a caress, a handshake often communicates better than words what one has in mind and heart. A gift is loaded with messages, even when a card does not accompany it. Even silence can be a ‘word.’ In the famous story of Elijah’s encounter with God at Horeb, after saying that God was not in the mighty wind, the earthquake, and fire, the sacred text continues: "After the fire, the murmur of a gentle breeze" (1 K 19:12). It was God who manifested himself in the silence.

He intervenes in the world only through his Word. The reading tells us that he addresses people in many different ways.

In ancient times God spoke through creation. That, in return, creation speaks of God is entirely normal because it originated from his Word. In all events, in all the phenomena of nature, in the rising sun, in the rain that irrigates the fields, in the smooth turn and order of the stars, one can hear the message of God.

Whoever—perhaps distracted or entranced by the beauty of things—fails to capture this voice is called in biblical language ‘foolish.’ Not evil or guilty, but ‘fool,’ that is because, in his stupidity, he, unfortunately, misses the meaning of everything that exists and happens. The author of the Book of Wisdom observes: "The natural helplessness of humans is seen in their ignorance of God. The experience of good things did not lead them to the knowledge of Him who is. They were interested in the works, but they did not recognize the author of them. If charmed by such beauty, they took them for gods, let them know how far superior is their sovereign” (Wis 13:1,3).

This way of communicating through creation, however, is imperfect. The people of Israel had the privilege of hearing the voice of God more clearly than the heathens: she heard it through the prophets (Hab 1:1). The Lord manifested to these holy men his thought so that they would communicate them to the people. Amos said, "Yet the Lord does nothing without revealing his plan to his servants, the prophets" (Am 3:7).

In the last few centuries before Christ, because of the unfaithfulness of man, heaven closes. God no longer sends His prophets, and the people endure the painful experience of God’s silence. The prophet Amos foretold it: "Men will stagger from sea to sea, wander to and fro, from north to east, searching for the word of the Lord, but they will not find it"(Am 8:12).

O Lord of hosts, how long will your anger burn against the prayers of your people? (Ps 79:5). The pious Israelite begged him, "Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down" (Is 63:20). When the fullness of time came, while we were still his enemies (Rom 5:6), God tore the heavens and sent into the world his son: his perfect image, his ‘Word’(vv. 2-3).

Jesus is the highest, most explicit, and most eloquent revelation of the Father. Seeing him, one sees the Father (Jn 14:9). He is the brightness that shone from the Father—even as Paul says—God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness has also made the light shine in our hearts to radiate and to make known the glory of God, as it shines in the face of Christ" (2 Cor 4:6).

The last part of the reading (vv. 4-6) stresses the incomparable superiority of the revelation obtained through Jesus. The Jews claimed that God had spoken to them using even the angels. The author of the letter argues: Jesus is vastly superior to the angels. As evidence, he cites three Scripture texts and concludes: "All the angels of God adore him.”

 

Gospel John 1:1-18

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him.

But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God.

And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth. John testified to him and cried out, saying, “This was he of whom I said, ‘The one who is coming after me ranks ahead of me because he existed before me.’” From his fullness we have all received, grace in place of grace, because while the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father’s side, has revealed him. 

 

 


 All authors treat the first page of their books with particular emphasis because it constitutes the introduction to the whole work. It has to be pleasant and attractive, andgood in hinting at the essential issues that will be dealt with later. It is a way to whet the interest and curiosity of the reader.

To introduce his gospel, John composes a sublime hymn, so highly esteemed as to merit him the title of ‘eagle’ among the evangelists. In this prologue, as in the overture of a symphony, it is possible to glimpse the themes that will be taken up and developed in the following chapters: Jesus sent by the Father, source of life, the light of the world, full of grace and truth, the only Son in whom the glory of the Father is revealed.

In the first stanza (vv. 1-5), John seems to take off from an image dear to wisdom and rabbinic literature. The ‘Wisdom of God,’ for example, is depicted as a beautiful and delightful woman. Here's how the ‘Wisdom’ introduces herself in the book of Proverbs: "The Lord created me first at the beginning of his works…. The abyss did not exist when I was born. The mountains were not yet set in their place, nor the hills when I was born … I was there when he made the skies … when he made the sea with its limits … when he laid the foundation of the earth, I was close beside him" (Pro 8:22-29).

It is a personification echoed in the book of Sirach, which states that Wisdom embodied herself in the Torah, the Law, and set up her tent in Israel (Sir 24:3-8,22).
 John knows these texts well and—perhaps even with a bit of polemic against Judaism—he adopts them and applies them to Jesus. He is—he says—the Wisdom of God who came to make his dwelling among us. It's Jesus, and not the Mosaic Law, who reveals to people the face of God and his will. He is the Word, the last and final Word of God. He is the same Word by which God, in the beginning, created the world.

Not only that! Unlike the personified Wisdom in the Book of Sirach (Sir 24:9), the Word of God—that in Jesus became flesh—has not been created, but ‘was’ with God, existed from eternity, and was God. For Israel, Wisdom is "a tree of life to those who clasp it" (Prov 3:18). John makes it clear: the Wisdom of God manifested itself fully in the historical person of Jesus. He is the source of life; the Law is no longer its source.

The coming of God’s Word into the world divides history into two: before and after Christ, darkness without him, light where he is. The Word is like a sword; it penetrates deep within every person and separates in him what is ‘of light’ and what is ‘of darkness.’Darkness will try to overpower this light, but it will not succeed. Even if there is a negative response by people attempting to suffocate it, eventually, the light will prevail in the heart of each of us.

The second stanza (vv. 6-8) is the first narrative interlude that introduces the figure of John the Baptist. It does not say that ‘he was with God.’ John is just a man raised up by God for a mission. He was to witness to the light, but his role is so important that it is underlined three times. He was not that Light but was able to recognize the true light and point him out to all.

The third stanza (vv. 9-13) develops the theme of Christ—the light, and the people’s response to his appearance in the world. The hymn opens with a cry of joy: "The true light was coming to the world." Jesus is the true light, as opposed to all illusory glitter, wisps, mirages, and the misleading glow projected by the worldly wisdom of people. A lament immediately contradicts this enthusiastic cry: "the world did not know him." It highlights the rejection, opposition, and closure against the light. “People loved darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil” (Jn 3:19).

Not even the Israelites—'his own people’—welcome him. Yet they should have recognized in Jesus the ultimate manifestation, the embodiment of the ‘Wisdom of God,’that wisdom that ‘among all the people had sought a resting place in which to settle,’ and just in Israel, she had found her home. The Creator of the universe had given her this order: "Pitch your tent in Jacob; Israel will be your homeland" (Sir 24:8).

The rejection of light and life by people, even the most prepared and well-disposed, is surprising. Jesus, too, will be surprised one day by his own countrymen’s incredulity (Mk 6:6). This means that the light that comes from above is not imposed, does no violence, leaves free, but places before people an unavoidable decision: they must choose between "blessing and curse" (Deut 11:27), between "life and death" (Deut 30:15).

The verse ends with the optimistic vision of those who believed in the light. Believing does not mean giving one’s intellectual approval to a package of truth, but accepting a person, the Wisdom of God, who is Jesus. To those who trust in him shall be granted an unheard of ‘right’: to become children of God. It is the rebirth from above of which Jesus will speak to Nicodemus (Jn 3:3), a rebirth that has nothing to do with the natural birth linked to sexuality or man's will. The generation from God is of another order; it is the work of the Spirit.

The fourth stanza (v. 14): "And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us" is the highlight of the whole prologue. They are the Gospel’s words that we will listen to on our knees. The first Christians are still full of admiration before the mystery of God who for love strips himself of his glory, empties himself, and takes up his abode in our tent (our humanity).

‘Flesh’ in biblical language indicates man in his weak, fragile, and perishable nature. One senses here the dramatic contrast between ‘flesh’ and ‘Word of God’ expressed so effectively in the famous passage from Isaiah: "All flesh is grass and all its beauty as the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will forever stand" (Is 40:6-8). When John says that the ‘Word’ became flesh, he does not simply state that he took a mortal body, overlaid with muscles, but he became one of us; he became like us in all things, including feelings, passions, emotions, cultural conditioning, tiredness, fatigue, ignorance—yes, also ignorance—and even temptations, the inner conflicts. Exactly like us in all things but sin. 

"And we have seen his glory." The biblical man was conscious that the human eye is unable to see God. One may only contemplate his ‘glory,’ that is, the signs of his presence, his works, his acts of power in favor of his people. "I will have glory at the expense of Pharaoh, his army, his chariots, and horsemen" (Ex 14:18).  

The expressions filled with the intense emotion of the first letter of John are echoed in this phrase of the prologue: "That which has been from the beginning, and what we have heard and have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, I mean the Word who is Life .... The Life made itself known, we have seen Eternal Life and we bear witness, and we are telling you of it. It was with the Father and made himself known to us. So we tell you, what we have seen and heard, that you may be in fellowship with us, and us, with the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. And we write this that our joy may be complete" (1 Jn 1:1-4).

John speaks in the plural because he intends to report the experience of the Christians of his community. With the eyes of faith, they can grasp, beyond the veil of the ‘flesh’ of Jesus humiliated and crucified, the face of God. The Lord has often manifested His glory with signs and wonders, but he never revealed himself so clearly as in his "only begotten Son, full of grace and truth." "Grace and Truth" is a biblical expression thatmeans ‘faithful love.’ We find it in the Old Testament when the Lord appears to Moses as "the God full of pity and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in truth and loving-kindness" (Ex 34:6). The fullness of God's faithful love is present in Jesus. He is the irrefutable proof that nothing can overwhelm the goodness of God.

The fifth stanza (v. 15) is the second intermission. The Baptist reappears, and this time he speaks in the present tense: he ‘testifies’ on behalf of Jesus. He ‘shouts’ to people of all times that He, Jesus, is unique.

The sixth stanza (vv. 16-18) is a song of joy wherein the community's gratitude to God for the gift received overflows. Incomparable gift! The Law of Moses was also a gift of God but was not definitive. The external provisions it contained could not communicate the ‘grace and truth,’ that is, the force that enables man to respond to the faithful love of God. ‘Grace and truth’ are given through Jesus, and his name appears here for the first time.

No one has ever seen God. It is a statement that John often recalled (5:37; 6:46; 1 Jn 4:12.20). In the Old Testament, it is already found: "You cannot see my face—God says to Moses—because man cannot see me and live" (Ex 33:20). The events, apparitions, visions of God as told in the Old Testament were not material or physical visions. They were a human way of attempting to describe the revelations of the thoughts, the will, and the plans of the Lord.

But, in John’s Gospel, looking at Jesus, one can actually, concretely see God. To know the Father, one need not resort to philosophy or lose oneself in elaborate discussions. It is enough to contemplate Christ, to observe what he does, what he says, what he teaches, how he behaves, how he loves, whom he prefers, people he associates with, with whom he goes to dinner, whom he chooses, rebukes and defends. It’s enough, above all, to contemplate him in the height of his ‘glory’ when he was lifted up on the cross. In that highest manifestation of love, the Father has said it all.

 

READ: The prologue offers an overture to the entire Gospel. All the major themes of the Gospel can be found in these verses, which begin in eternity and end with the Word becoming flesh and returning to the bosom of the Father. Because it is poetry, the prologue can be appreciated only through repeated readings.

 

REFLECT: The prologue speaks of the relationship between the Word and God. The Word functions in creation. The Word becomes flesh and dwells amid the human family. John has a role to play in serving the Word.

 

PRAY: The Christian prays to God the Father through the Son. Thank God the Father for the gift of the Word.

 

ACT: Study the various verses of the prologue and look for the major themes of the Gospel.