Year C

July 13, 2025

On this page you will find:

The readings for Mass, the Mass leaflet with the choice of hymns
A sample universal prayer available for download , in PDF and editable Word formats.
A meditation on the Sunday Gospel , a spiritual text and a commentary by Marie-Noëlle Thabut

15th Sunday

Ordinary Time

Moses said to the people:
“Listen to the voice of the Lord your God,
by observing his commandments and decrees
inscribed in this book of the Law,
and return to the Lord your God
with all your heart and all your soul.
For this law that I prescribe to you today
is not beyond your capabilities
nor beyond your reach.

Deuteronomy 30:10-11

Readings from the Mass

https://www.aelf.org/2025-07-13/romain/messe

Mass leaflet

Universal Prayer

Lectio Divina
Consult this page for a prayerful preparation for the liturgy and then read the meditations below.

MEDITATION OF POPE FRANCIS

Today's Gospel reading is the parable of the Good Samaritan (cf. Lk 10:25-37); we all know it. The backdrop is the road leading down from Jerusalem to Jericho, along which lies a man beaten and robbed by robbers. A priest passing by sees him but doesn't stop; he continues on his way. A Levite, that is, a minister of worship in the temple, does the same. "But a Samaritan," says the Gospel, "as he journeyed, came along, saw him, and had compassion on him" (v. 33). Remember these words: "had compassion on him"; this is what God feels each time he sees us in a difficult situation, in sin, in misery: "he was moved with compassion." The evangelist is careful to specify that the Samaritan was traveling . Thus, this Samaritan, although he has his plans and is traveling far, makes no excuses and allows himself to be challenged, he allows himself to be challenged by what is happening on the road. Let us reflect on this: doesn't the Lord teach us to do exactly that? To look ahead, toward the final goal, while paying close attention to the steps to be taken, here and now, to get there.

It is significant that the first Christians were called “disciples of the Way” (cf. Acts 9:2), that is, of the journey. Indeed, the believer is much like the Samaritan: like him, he is on a journey, he is a traveler. He knows that he has not “arrived,” but he wants to learn every day, following the Lord Jesus, who said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). I am the way: the disciple of Christ walks by following him, and thus becomes a “disciple of the Way.” He follows the Lord, who is not sedentary, but always on the move: on the road, he meets people, heals the sick, visits villages and towns. This is what the Lord did, always on the move.

The “disciple of the Way”—that is, we Christians—sees that his way of thinking and acting gradually changes, becoming more and more in line with that of the Master. By walking in the footsteps of Christ, he becomes a traveler and learns, like the Samaritan, to see and to have compassion. He sees and he has compassion. First, he sees: he opens his eyes to reality; he is not selfishly locked in his own thoughts. On the contrary, the priest and the Levite see the unfortunate man, but it is as if they do not see him; they pass by, they look elsewhere. The Gospel teaches us to see: it guides each of us to understand reality correctly, overcoming prejudices and dogmatism day after day. Many believers take refuge in dogmatism to defend themselves against reality. And then, he teaches us to follow Jesus, because following Jesus teaches us to have compassion: to notice others, especially those who are suffering, those who are most in need. And to intervene like the Samaritan: not to pass by, but to stop.

Faced with this Gospel parable, we might be tempted to feel guilty, to point the finger at others by comparing them to the priest and the Levite: "But this one or that one keeps going, they don't stop!" or to blame ourselves by listing our own shortcomings toward our neighbor. But I would like to suggest another kind of exercise. Not so much accusing ourselves, no; certainly, we must acknowledge when we have been indifferent and have justified ourselves, but let's not stop there. We must recognize that it's a mistake, but let's ask the Lord to draw us out of our selfish indifference and put us on the Way. Let's ask Him to see and have compassion. This is a grace, and we must ask it of the Lord: "Lord, let me see, let me have compassion, as You see me and have compassion on me." Here is the prayer I offer you today: “Lord, that I may see, that I may have compassion, as you see me and have compassion for me.” Let us have compassion for those we meet on our path, especially those who are suffering and in need, so that we may draw near to them and do what we can to help them.

Often, when I meet a Christian man or woman who comes to talk to me about spiritual matters, I ask them if they give alms. "Yes," they answer. "And tell me, do you touch the hand of the person you give money to?" "No, no, I just throw it there." "And do you look that person in the eyes?" "No, it doesn't occur to me." If you give alms without touching reality, without looking the person in need in the eyes, that alms is for you, not for them. Think about this: "Do I touch misery, even that of the person I help? Do I look into the eyes of those who suffer, the people I help?" I leave you with this thought: to see and to have compassion.

May the Virgin Mary accompany us on this path of growth. She who "shows us the Way," that is, Jesus, may she also help us to become ever more "disciples of the Way . "

POPE FRANCIS

ANGELUS

Saint Peter's Square

Sunday, July 10, 2022

The Little Way of the Gospel

Interview with Bernadette Dumont

for Magnificat

(I highly recommend subscribing: here )

Your words, Lord, are spirit and they are life. You have the words of eternal life.

◗ What is a "Levite"?

He was considered a priest, but with less dignity and fewer responsibilities. He participated in the service of the Temple in Jerusalem and in liturgical activities.

◗ Jesus does not give the priest and the Levite a good role!

Yes, but we must consider that, according to the rules of the Israelite religion at the time of Jesus, the priest and the Levite could hardly behave otherwise. Indeed, according to the rules of ritual purity that were in force, they could not touch the injured man, at the risk of becoming impure and therefore unfit to perform their duties.

It's still difficult to excuse their attitude of "failure to assist a person in danger." If Jesus chose them as characters in his parable, was it to convey a message to us?

Jesus wants to warn us: paradoxically, for us, believers and servants of God, it is easy to find higher reasons for not taking the time to dedicate ourselves to our neighbor when we should. Yet, if we claim to love and serve God whom we do not see, and we turn away from Jesus suffering on the sidelines of our lives, we are liars.

◗ You say "of suffering Jesus", but it was not Jesus, it was a traveler like any other.

Of all those we have not thought to help, Jesus will say to us at the Last Judgment: “I was injured on the side of the road, and you did not help me.” We are, for one another, a sacrament of the presence of Jesus in our lives!

◗ Is the "neighbor" we must love therefore every person whom God's providence brings close to us, by placing them on the path of our lives?

Yes, and even more! My neighbor is an extraordinary grace that God sends me. This summer, we will undoubtedly meet new people: who will be our neighbor? Just think: for everything I do for my neighbor, good or bad, Jesus will say to me, "You did it to me!" This word that he will speak to me will be the word of eternal life (cf. the verse in the Alleluia).

Catechist and author of children's books, Bernadette Dumont is a mother and grandmother.

Better understanding the Gospel
with Marie-Noëlle Thabut

Better understanding the Gospel

with Marie-Noëlle Thabut

on hold...

MASS

HOMILY OF POPE LEO XIV

Pontifical Parish of Saint Thomas of Villanova (Castel Gandolfo) Sunday, July 13, 2025

________________________________________

Siblings,

I share with you the joy of celebrating this Eucharist and I would like to greet all those present, the parish community, the priests, the Bishop of the Diocese, His Excellency, the civil and military authorities.

This Sunday's Gospel reading, which we have just heard, is one of the most beautiful and evocative parables told by Jesus. We all know the parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37).

This story continues to challenge us today, it questions our lives, it shakes the tranquility of our sleeping or distracted consciences, and it warns us against the risk of an accommodating faith, settled in the outward observance of the law but incapable of feeling and acting with the same compassionate heart of God.

Compassion, indeed, is at the heart of the parable. And while it is true that in the Gospel narrative it is described by the actions of the Samaritan, the first thing the pericope emphasizes is the gaze. Indeed, before a wounded man lying by the roadside after falling into the hands of bandits, the priest and the Levite are told: "he saw him and passed by on the other side" (v. 32); of the Samaritan, on the other hand, the Gospel says: "he saw him and was moved with compassion" (v. 33).

Dear brothers and sisters, our gaze makes all the difference, for it expresses what is in our hearts: we can see and move on, or we can see and feel compassion. There is an external, distracted, and hasty vision, a vision that pretends not to see, that is, without allowing itself to be touched or challenged by the situation; and yet there is a vision, that of the heart, with a deeper gaze, imbued with empathy, which draws us into the other's situation, makes us participate inwardly, touches us, moves us deeply, and questions our lives and our responsibility.

The first gaze the parable seeks to convey is the gaze God bestowed upon us, so that we too might learn to have his eyes, filled with love and compassion for one another. The Good Samaritan, in fact, is above all an image of Jesus, the eternal Son whom the Father sent into history precisely because he looked directly at humanity, with eyes, with a heart, with a very being filled with emotion and compassion. Like the one in the Gospel who descended from Jerusalem to Jericho, humanity descended into the abyss of death, and even today, it often faces the darkness of evil, suffering, poverty, and the absurdity of death. But God looked upon us with compassion; he chose to walk our path himself; he came down among us and, in Jesus, the Good Samaritan, he came to heal our wounds, pouring upon us the oil of his love and mercy.

Pope Francis has often reminded us that God is mercy and compassion, and he has affirmed that Jesus “is the Father’s compassion for us” ( Angelus , July 14, 2019). He is the Good Samaritan who came to meet us; He, says Saint Augustine, “deigned to call himself our neighbor. For Jesus Christ portrayed himself as the Samaritan helping this unfortunate man, abandoned on the road by robbers, covered in wounds and half-dead” (Christian Doctrine, I, 30.33).

We then understand why the parable challenges each of us: since Christ is the manifestation of a compassionate God, believing in Him and following Him like His disciples means allowing ourselves to be transformed so that we too can have the same feelings as Him: a heart that is moved, a gaze that sees and does not pass by, two hands that help and soothe wounds, strong shoulders that take the burden of those in need.

Today's first reading, by sharing the words of Moses, tells us that obeying the Lord's commandments and turning to Him does not mean multiplying outward acts, but rather returning to our hearts to discover that it is precisely there that God has written the law of love. If, in the intimacy of our lives, we discover that Christ, like the Good Samaritan, loves us and cares for us, then we too are moved to love in the same way and become compassionate like Him. Healed and loved by Christ, we too become signs of His love and compassion in the world.

Brothers and sisters, today we need this revolution of love. Today, this road that descends from Jerusalem to Jericho, a city located below sea level, is the road taken by all those who sink into evil, suffering, and poverty; it is the road of many people overwhelmed by difficulties or wounded by life's circumstances; it is the road of all those who "descend lower" until they are lost and hit rock bottom; and it is the road of many peoples stripped bare, robbed, and plundered, victims of oppressive political systems, of an economy that condemns them to poverty, of war that kills their dreams and their lives.

And what do we do? Do we look on and walk by, or do we let our hearts be pierced like the Samaritan's? Sometimes we simply do our duty or consider our neighbor only those who are part of our circle, those who think like us, those who share our nationality or religion; but Jesus reverses the perspective by presenting us with a Samaritan, a foreigner and a heretic, who draws near to this wounded man. And he asks us to do the same.

The Samaritan, wrote Benedict XVI , “does not ask how far his duties of solidarity extend, nor what merits will assure him eternal life. Things happen differently: his heart is broken [...]. If the question had been: ‘Is the Samaritan also my neighbor?’, the answer would have been, in the given situation, an unequivocal ‘no.’ But Jesus reverses things. The Samaritan, the stranger, makes himself my neighbor and shows me that I must learn for myself, from within, to be everyone’s neighbor, and that the answer is already within me. I must become someone who loves, a person whose heart is moved by the distress of others.” (Jesus of Nazareth, 221-222).

To see without overlooking, to stop our frantic pursuits, to allow the life of another, whoever they may be, with their needs and suffering, to break my heart. This is what brings us closer to one another, what engenders true brotherhood, what breaks down walls and barriers. And ultimately, love finds its way, becoming stronger than evil and death.

Beloved, let us look to Christ, the good Samaritan, and listen today to his voice which says to each of us: “Go, and you also, do likewise” (v. 37).

Hope is nourished by prayer.

We preserve and renew hope through prayer.

We keep the spark of hope alive by praying.

“Prayer is the first force of hope.”

You pray and hope grows, you move forward.

Praying is like gaining altitude: often when we are on the ground, we cannot see the sun because the sky is covered with clouds.

But if we climb above the clouds, the light and warmth of the sun envelop us,

And in this experience we rediscover the certainty that the sun is always present, even when everything seems grey.

When the thick fog of fear, doubt, and oppression surrounds you

And if you can no longer see the sun, take the path of prayer.

For "if no one listens to me anymore, God still listens to me" (Benedict XVI, Spe salvi, no. 32).

Let's take the time each day

to rest in God

facing the anxieties that assail us:

I have no rest but in God alone; yes, my hope comes from him (Ps 61, 6).

Pope Francis