We want to have an assembly to clarify
the step we are taking; that is, to clarify the link between the reasonability
of starting and the question of faith.X1
I accepted the invitation to come here in order to answer three questions
on the first two chapters of my book, Si può vivere così? (Can
you live like this?) So whoever has a comprehensive question on
these two chapters may begin.
I want to know Destiny, I want to know Christ more and more, and
I feel the urge for everything in me to be implied in this work. We
have seen that faith is a method of knowledge with which you can get
to know a reality that is knowable neither directly by evidence nor
directly by analysis of one's experience. I asked myself, "But don't
we know Mystery also through all reality since it is a sign?" So the
dynamics of faith could become broader. But it says in one place that
faith is played out at the level of persons: I trust in a person and
not in a thing.2 I would like to understand this point better.
You cannot have faith in nature: in a poplar, in a whale, etc.
You cannot have faith in these things. These things, in which you
cannot have faith-later we shall say why-are rather the sign
of something else. In order to be, to exist, to be seen by you and
me, they suppose something else. Up to this point human reason must
come in, human reason which is awareness of reality. Awareness of
reality: a whale is a reality, the star that is not seen is a reality,
the sky is a reality, and the whirlwind of disasters that happen in
the world is a reality. When you read the newspapers or switch on
the television at six in the morning to hear the news on the Swiss
channel you would go into the world an hour later with your heart
broken in pieces, almost not wanting to hear anything more; instead
it is by means of those lights, through the circumstances we live
in, that the Lord shows us the road.
Now, travelling on the road, making a journey one particular day,
I meet a stranger in a roadside restaurant. This is someone
I never knew before, never thought of and never imagined; a stranger,
one who comes from outside my region, a foreigner who is talking as
he eats. We are there in the restaurant, I am eating, and there are
three people at the table in front of me, they are talking and saying
things that interest me. Then I perk up my ears and I hear among other
things one of them saying, "I am the way, the truth and the life."3
While they are eating! And from that moment the other two never speak
again. He was doing the talking! Afterwards, when they had finished
eating, they went off together-I kept close to them, watching them
continually-and they took the road through the fields.
Had I been together with those two-the third along with the two, the
fourth was with the one who was talking-I would have said, or rather
at first I would have kept silent, but then I would have said, "Where
do you come from?" "I come from Nazareth." "And what work do you do?"
"I will have to be a fisherman, too." "But how could you say what
you said?" And he explains.
Men don't know what God is. Everyone can talk about God. As long as
you don't define anything, as long as you don't say, "God is like
this," everything can be questioned. But "listening to that man,"
said one of the two to the other as they went back home, leaving behind
the villa where he was staying, "I was struck. I was struck that a
man should say such a thing. How can you say something like that?
Either he is crazy or there's something that I don't know. 'I am the
way, the truth and the life [the right road for the right goal].'
How can a man say such a thing?" Then the other one says, "Yes, I
don't get it either. I don't understand how he can be like this, but
he speaks like our prophets, like the books of our prophets [because
they had the Bible, too]-who knows!"
There were other times, too. Going with him became a habit for them,
because they were more and more attracted by what he said. He touched
on things that no one else questioned, because either they weren't
understood or they weren't talked about. But he also spoke of things
about which everyone had an idea. And yet no one had ever said that
you cannot know unless you love:4 even the clearest evidence assumes
the meaning of what the heart makes you feel.
Yes, heart. What do we mean by "heart?" How do we define the heart?
It is that complex of needs and evidences
with which man is thrown into the comparison with reality.5
And what is reality? It's what everything is made of. All that happens
is made; how evident things are! However, just as evidently, we don't
know how they "come to be," we don't know how they can be as they
are. It's clear that you haven't made yourself. And so? You are, and
yet you didn't make yourself. The greatest evidence, the greatest
discovery that I-that a man-can make is this: to understand that I
am nothing and yet I am.6 We are the only ones who say these things.
There is no one who says them in any other place in society today,
and yet they are evident. They are the first evident things. There
is nothing more immediately acceptable than this.
Let's take another example. In a small village in Triveneto [Italy],
a very Catholic area, there was a boy who, against his mother's orders,
went to a certain tavern in a nearby village to meet a group of three
or four young roughnecks he liked. He would go there and after a while
he was dissuaded from going to church on Sunday and from obeying his
mother. And his mother loved him more than his destiny (using our
words, because she didn't think of this, she didn't make this connection).
In any case that boy became Pasolini. He had sucked the genuine Christian
tradition from his mother's breast, he had to live it, he was forced
to live it, even though he interpreted everything in a different way;
that is, according to the mentality of the group. So he became Pasolini,
one of the greatest Italian writers, a witness of the values that
a certain kind of socialism practiced. And he was a poet, too, a great
In those years the Communists (still in the minority, not yet in government
as they are now thanks to the help of the Catholic left), much more
intelligently than other agents of public life, made great efforts
to support cultural centers, artists' exhibitions, centers where people
could be more moved by reality. So much so that most people in Italy
were saying, "They've got control of culture." And whoever has control
over culture is sure to come out on top in time. If Christianity is
so difficult to know and therefore so hard "to accept" these days,
it is because it has gone on calling people to take part in certain
rites and the only content of Christianity, for a century, has seemed
to be the moral question, the moral question reduced to one point,
the sixth and ninth commandments, in other words the problem of sex
(as we see these days in the United States). An exception seemed to
come in 1968, when the revolution attempted by the youth-manipulated
by those underneath or those above!-said that the evil lay in the
way power was used, and so they had to get into a stronger position
than the power in order to take power themselves. So instead of the
sixth and ninth commandments the fifth and the seventh were stressed:
the question of social justice.7 But with the defence of social justice
there was turmoil in every other field.
What is the difference between the first
case and the second? In the first case, or rather in the follow-up
to that question that I hinted at-that even a whale "speaks" of the
Mystery-it is only the religious sense that has to be applied.
And the religious sense is reason in as much as it is able
to become conscious of reality according to the whole of its factors.
When you see a mountain or a whale, you cannot just say, "It's a mountain"
or "It's a whale," but you say, "Who made it? Who makes these things?"
I think of that child adopted at the age of three by a friend of mine
who is totally atheist, and whose wife is atheist (adopting her was
a grand gesture): intelligent and confident after two years with them,
when she was five she wasn't able to "read or write" in the "religious"
sense of the term; in other words, she had no education in religious
terms. They went for a tour in the Dolomite Mountains. At a certain
point, I no longer remember where, they came upon a wonderful panorama,
and the two parents stood there admiring the scene. The girl-five
years old!-turned to them and said, "Mummy, who made this?" From that
moment began their return to religiosity, to the religious experience,
which is in our Christian tradition.
So, it all starts from reality, any part of reality. Even Jesus Christ
on the cross or the risen Christ on Lake Tiberias belong to reality,
because they are from this point of view the object of reason, because
they belong to reality as something evident, as a fact that happens.
For it is only reason that can capture the presence of that which
is being spoken about.
Second case. There are encounters or facts or a natural reality that
claim to be "something." Let's look at Pasolini. Pasolini encountered
a group of persons who set themselves against the society of their
day, the culture of their day, as innovators, as discoverers of something
new, a new way, "This is true life, to live in society, to live freely
doing what you like," or "it is to live freely in society; and in
order to be free we need 'conditionings' set by the socialist State."
In short, the consequences of something we affirm, depending on its
nature, can be many; but there are always consequences for everything
we meet and is of interest to man.
In the example of the two or three fishermen of Galilee, instead,
that man said, "I am the way, the truth and the life" -something
so transcendent, something so all-embracing, it is a claim out of
this world! They could have said, "What on earth does he mean? He's
crazy! '…the way, the truth and the life'? What's he talking about?"
Way, a means, a method for being true, for reaching the truth, or
rather for becoming aware of a life that was inside. But these were
three things too great for those two to be able to draw conclusions.
They were struck, and this blow,
this shock questioned them many times. For example that time they
invited him to get into the boat with them; even earlier when they
had gone with him to a wedding in Cana;8 then they took him on Lake
Tiberias. He went fishing with them several times, even at night.
Once, after having taken him along three or four times, one night,
there was a terrible storm, with a strong wind, almost a hurricane.
In these cases Lake Tiberias has such waves that they even drag up
rocks from the bottom. Those fishermen, who knew the lake so well,
had made a mistake going out that night, or maybe they had gone out
because he was with them. Anyway, he was sleeping! It seemed that
not even the raging wind, not even the terrible waves swamping the
boat would wake him up. He was so tired that he had his head down
and was asleep. Then one of them went up to him-he would have grabbed
him by the arm, and shaken him, I don't know, because they were friends-and
said to him, "Hey, Master, were going down!" and he replied, "What
are you afraid of, men of little faith?" Then he called to the wind
and the sea, "Silence! Stop it." And at his word the sea was suddenly
calm, without a wave, only the murmuring of the tide. So the ones
who already knew where he lived, who knew who his mother and father
were, said, "But who is he?"9 They ask the same question that they
had asked in their hearts right from the beginning. He had gone to
eat with them often, but there is a huge difference between one who
shares a meal with you and one who says, "I am the way, the truth
and the life." It is a huge leap for reason, "What can I say of this
man?" Every time there is a decisive step, the Gospel describes the
human experience in relationship with God precisely in these terms,
"Who is he?"
Imagine three months later. They have known each other for three months,
and they have become friends, so they are familiar with him. Why had
they become friends? Because there was something in what he said that
corresponded with their "heart." And all this was evident.
But what was not evident was the content, what lay beyond the words
"way, truth and life," because they all took these words in the sense
that we all use them, every one of them used these words not as a
totality, as words that represent everything and make everything live,
that embrace everything in man, but in order to describe "way": a
path leading from Milan to Bergamo; "truth": an approximation that
all mathematics and sciences are; and "life": we understand at once
what life is!
Anyway, they went on like this for two years. In these two years,
by the way, he was continuously working miracles at the drop of a
hat! Like for example that leper who was suddenly cured because Jesus
had touched him.10 Or like that girl who was dead, whose family he
knew. He went to their house, sent everyone out of the room where
she was, and, soon after, opened the door and said, "Here is your
daughter." And she had come back to life!11
So you reach the point where there can be no more resistance, no alibi
can stand up: either they had to leave him at once, or they had to
ask another question, like the one they asked after that night on
the lake, "But who is this man?" They asked each other, they didn't
The thing came out when Jesus asked Peter, "Who do people say I am?"
"Oh, a charlatan, a prophet, a great man, a powerful man." "And you,
what do you say?" "You are the Christ, the Messiah, sent by the living
God."12 Simon had given this answer spontaneously, almost rudely,
not because he had understood what he was saying, but because he felt
that this answer was more in proportion with what that man was. The
evidence of that man found no objection in the heart.
It is here that Jesus says, "The Mystery
sent me to you, to the world, making me take flesh in your humanity…"
He is a man! It is as if the Mystery were to have grasped, in the
intimacy of a woman, the origin, the original leap of life (the seed
from which you later reach the age of 76 with no voice left!) It is
as if the Mystery, wanting to make man understand what He-God-is for
man (who is always an individual, first and foremost an individual,
because the person is like that!), the first thing that he wanted
to say is that the Mystery is good. Man, in his vocabulary, can find
only this formula, "The Mystery is good." Or another connected with
this: that man is not without defects, can never shed his defects
completely (normally he is sunk in them up to his neck), but the Mystery
forgives everything. "Forgive" is not the right word, He had "mercy"
on everything. Of all that the Mystery works, what reason understands
is forgiveness, whereas "mercy" cannot be understood at all. What
is understood in fact is a human reduction. But you will read this
I hope in the booklet of the Fraternity Retreat.13 I have put a lot
of stress on this in the last two years, because I didn't understand
before. Once I told somebody, "I have told you all correct things
that I didn't understand." If someone had asked me before, "Can you
explain this to us?" I would have answered without being able to bring
out all the logic within the things I was saying; I would have answered
without being able to draw the conclusions from evidence that I had.
Now let's think of who is implicated in the relationship with Jesus
as a man-as a man. If Jesus had asked him what he thought of him he
would have answered, "He's a prophet, a genius…" Instead, St. Peter
repeats a phrase he had heard from him and had not understood, "You
are the Christ, the Son of the living God." So Jesus says to him,
"Well done! You are great Simon, because what you've said now you
didn't say off the top of your own head, you didn't discover it with
your own reason, but it is the Father-in other words the Mystery as
the origin of things-who has reached you; you've said something the
Spirit suggested to you without your understanding what it meant."14
Not as words in themselves, Simon knew the meaning of what he was
saying. And he would have used those words even before the Pharisees,
the leaders. Simon was like that. Later he gave way, he faltered,
but Christ took him and told him, "I give you everything. All that
I came for I give to you; I give it to you, I tie it to your action."15
And he got together with other apostles, his best friends. It is at
this point that the question of "faith and reason" comes into play.
You said that they understood those
words, "… way, truth and life," as each of them used them, not as
Way, truth and life: Christ didn't use strange words in order to say
what he wanted to say. But you couldn't expect to define or understand
what he wanted to say in its final complexity or its final horizon.
They were certainly amazed at these words, so much so that they learned
them by heart (because the Gospel is made of memories, of reminiscences).16
Christ said, "I am the way, the truth and the life," and time made
the apostles understand in what sense he was the way, in what sense
he was the truth, and in what sense he was the life. It is time that
makes one understand the pregnancy of a word. The thing that God has
most made me understand at 75 years of age is this, "All that you
have done, all that has come out of your first step at the Berchet
High School, all that has developed out of that elementary condition
[in which I was not even sure to be dealing well with my rector or
with my bishop], all that was born, I was the one who gave birth to
it," says the Lord. Because God is all in all.17 Thus, they published
the things I was saying in a book, the articles I wrote before GS
[the Catholic student youth group begun by Fr. Giussani in 1954],
and during the first years of GS.18 On reading those articles everyone
said, "But everything was already there, you were already saying it
all then!" I didn't understand what I was saying, but I was not an
impostor, I was saying what I was doing, as I understood it then.
When the apostles became aware of the exceptional nature of the
presence of the Lord, there were committed in some way to their humanity…
I said they were struck by the Lord, because as they spoke with him
their heart came back to life: he was in tune with their heart.
So when they met him the vigilance over their heart coincided with
vigilance over that Presence: it was staying with that Presence that
in some way their heart came back to life. I have the impression,
though, that every so often we go back; in other words, we think we
can commit ourselves to our humanity without reference to this Presence.
Yes, very good. Only that I imagine for example Andrew and John, or
Simon, or Philip, or Nathanael (these are the first five to be in
St. John's memory)19 could have had a different attitude: one of them
was shocked and struck, he felt he had to follow that man; instead
the other, let's suppose, had a family, wife and children-"I would
come, if I was free, I would come, but…" When you have an encounter,
this encounter, the main question is that the Mystery, in having you
meet this thing, wants your life to change. So you have to follow
him; you follow that man. If the initial impression is confirmed you
reach a point in which you feel full, you feel like attaching yourself
to Him, you feel like referring to Him more than to anything else.
You attach yourself to him like verbena attaches itself to the plant
that supports it. The following day, two days later, three days later,
you don't give up certain bad habits of yours (insulting your wife,
betraying her…). But if someone were to come up to you and say, "That
man wouldn't like you to do that," and you reply, "I know, I agree,"
and he says, "So you're no longer one of us," you would say, "I would
like to belong to him. I want to belong to him! I feel like being
his more than going with women like all the others do. I can't do
it any more because I am attached to that man, I am more attached
to that man than I am to my instincts or to my reactions, or to my
moments of madness."20
The encounter takes on a meaning for our life according to the time
in which we preserve it. In order to preserve the good juice of an
encounter, the good impression of an encounter, we need to think about
it over and over again: time, as it passes, makes it clearer and more
persuasive. Perhaps one is not able to reason through it, but in the
end has a profound sympathy for it, as an expression of his heart.
The heart expresses a sympathy, lives of sympathy. Or better, the
heart lives of truth. For the finest thing we say is that you cannot
know without loving, because knowledge is an attraction. If it does
not follow an attraction, it is not real knowledge, knowledge remains
on the surface and does not last; you don't remember.
So I agree with the point just made, but I would stress the need for
time. Not abstract time, but concrete time. In other words, maintain
the link with Him, with what you have felt.
And there is another thing to be said: you have had this encounter,
that's why you are here. Even if it lasted only three minutes, it
is what had you come here. So it had quite a strong effect. Someone
who comes here, to a place he doesn't know, where the dialogue is
"strange," someone who is here now, has had an encounter. I made the
objection to myself, "Someone could have had the encounter without
reasons!" Fine: you haven't had it with reasons, but now I'll tell
you the reason why you must change what you felt before. Whoever is
here has had an encounter!
So whoever has had an encounter must
commit himself to what he has encountered; this coincides with commitment
to one's own humanity.
If you have had an encounter, your behavior toward what has happened
to you depends on your honesty; in the end we should say on your morality.
Morality is the function of a particular for the whole. It is not
a particular of your life, like a dandelion gone to seed, one puff
and it's gone. Imagine how John and Andrew were struck when they were
in the boat that night on the lake, and they said, "But who is he?"
It is the same question that the Pharisees asked. Before beating him
up and killing him, the scribes and the Pharisees went to him in public
and asked him, "How long are you going to keep us in suspense? Who
are you, and where are you from?" And he had kept silent, because
that question was not sincere, not real.
So, the most serious question for every one of you who is here, as
you have been called, every one of you must find from now on how to
understand well and more the road to travel, what the truth
is, the truth you have encountered, and the life you must live.
These are the three things that man, whatever idea he may have, must
Pasolini followed the wrong road: he said that truth does not exist-or
rather, that we don't know what the truth is, how it is, as Malraux
said-21and that life is made of immediate things (eating and drinking….)
But little by little in his life he heard the echo of what his mother
said about life, about truth, and about which road to travel. If he
had met someone with our passion, if he had come to one of the gestures
of our community, especially in certain moments, he would have wept.
This is why I said that if one of you is here, then he has had an
encounter. You have to develop this encounter, you must try to understand
it. You cannot get started only when you have understood everything.
No one can do this. There is nothing in this world that reveals itself
clearly in the instant when it first happens.
But we cannot say that the expectation of things that brought you
here is unbearable. No, it is unbearable for whoever wants neither
the truth nor life; for whoever is an impostor and goes against himself.
It is not others who say it, you are the one: if you reflect, if your
"yes" or your participation in the thing as it presents itself becomes
less serious, it is a dishonesty, according to the contents of what
encountered you, of what you have encountered.
So, what is the difference between religious sense and faith? Or,
what does religious sense say about the word faith? The religious
sense is reason, reasonability. Reasonability is called precisely
"religious sense," because if reason is grasping reality according
to the whole of its factors, it never quite manages this, there is
always something that escapes (there is a point of escape through
which the whole of truth passes, spraying outwards or inwards). Reason
has a limit. Even if you were to go to the top of the Himalayas trying
to see the panorama of the whole world, if you reached the top of
Everest, you would see as far as Kamchatka, but you would not see
as far as Russia, for example; you would not see "beyond" that. Man
is serene only when he hears everything, when he knows everything,
and when he possesses everything. "Each one confusedly learns a good/
in which his soul reposes, and desires;/ to reach which each one contends."
(Con-tends: together with others he is forced to do it.)22
This "beyond" is the Mystery. And what is not Mystery, reason rightly
plans to know. Reason can know everything except the Mystery. The
Mystery is what makes it, it is the creator, because reason is not
self-made. And this is the greatest evidence that reason has: the
moment in which I am most aware that I don't make myself, but that
an Other makes me, is now, the instant I am living.
So the ultimate meaning of all that we live-of all that happens, that
each one is searching for as his desire to know, to understand, and
to bring about in its existential consequences-in the final analysis
cannot be defined by reason. If reason is relationship with reality
according to the whole of its factors, a woman cannot be defined by
the man she goes with, and a child cannot be defined by the mother
who gives it birth. A level of truth in the relationship with your
wife, your husband, your children is no longer possible, an attitude
of truth is no longer possible if it does not pass through that which
is not admitted, that which many believe they cannot admit-in other
words, God, the Mystery. It is in our life, on our way, you will see
that without adhering to the Mystery, man cannot sustain any act that
is just and good, completely good.
So, suppose that the Mystery, in order to persuade man that He, the
Mystery, is a reality-the most decisive reality for all the rest of
reality; it is the reality that creates all the rest, that communicates
itself to the rest, to the world, with all that entices or dishonors-in
order to communicate itself to man, who is the only point in all the
cosmos that is conscious of things (no other reality has consciousness),
in order to make himself known to man as a super-human reality, becomes
a man. The Mystery slid into time, was born of a woman, "Non horruisti
virginis uterum,"23 he did not disdain to enter into the womb
of a woman like each one of us.
He was a man like us, he went around through the lanes of Nazareth,
or went to the synagogue with the others, he sang with the others.
As a man it was as if he didn't yet have the awareness of who he was,
until he went to John the Baptist. John the Baptist baptized him with
the others, and in that instant he and John heard the Holy Spirit,
the Spirit of the Mystery, which said, "This is my beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased."24
As a man born in a given town to a given
mother, he was familiar with that town and its inhabitants, he was
one of them. Therefore he had a particular way of speaking, of doing
things. When he was thirty years old, the novelty he carried within
himself was no longer recognized. When he proclaimed on the streets
of his town, "The prophets spoke of me. I am the long-awaited Messiah,"25
they wanted to throw him over the cliff. Imagine what his fellow-townspeople
thought of him, "He's mad, completely mad!" Or, "He's a dangerous
madman, because he speaks in such a way as to deny all our prophecies;
he is destroying the people," which was quite rightly for the Jews
the adequate subject in the relationship with God (who, if he comes
to communicate himself with man, does not pass through the normal
ways of human generation: we should have to say horruit virginis
Anyway this man, after thirty years, leaves his home, abandons his
mother-I'm not sure if "abandon" is the right word; he tells his mother
that he will come back when God wants (but he had already said that
in the temple at the age of twelve!)26-and he finds those two. Then
the following morning he finds them there with Simon, and they meet
Philip and later Nathanael. Think of them going home to their families
to tell them these things (because you have to tell your family the
things you believe in; the first love for the family is this, even
though the family may be purgatory for you). At a certain point-all
things go in a certain way, the question becomes keener and keener,
"Who on earth is this man?" or, as the Pharisees will laterask, "How
long will you keep us in suspense? Tell us who you are and where you
come from!" (and they had the birth registers from which it was clear
that he had been born in Bethlehem and his parents were so and so)-at
a certain point that that man should say he was God was the complete
explanation for the attachment they had for him. St. Peter included,
who even after Christ had told him, "Get away from me Satan"27 because
he had said to him, "You will never be killed," and after betraying
him (despite Christ's warning that it would happen-St. Peter's sinfulness
is the most highlighted in the Gospels!) he gives Him everything.
1 Cf., L. Giussani, Si può vivere così?, BUR, Milan 1994, pp.
2 Ibid, p. 22.
3 Jn 14:6.
4 Cf., L. Giussani, Si può (veramente?!) vivere così?, BUR,
Milan 1996, pp. 58-65.
5 Cf., L. Giussani, The Religious Sense, McGill-Queens, 1997,
6 Cf., Ibid, pp. 105-107.
7 L. Giussani, Se non fossi tuo, mio Cristo, mi sentirei creatura
finita, suppl. to Litterae Communionis - Tracce,
September 1997, p. 12.
8 Jn 2:1-11.
9 Cf., Mt 8:23-27; Mk 4:35-41; Lk 8:22-25.
10 Cf., Mt 8:2; Mk 1:40; Lk 5:12.
11 Mt 9:23-25; Mk 5:35-43; Lk 8:49-55.
12 Cf., Mt 16:13-16; Mk 8:27-29; Lk 9:18-20.
13 You, or About Friendship, notes from the meditations of
L. Giussani for the Fraternity Retreat of 1997; also The Miracle
of a Change, notes from the meditations of L. Giussani for the
Fraternity Retreat of 1998.
14 Cf., Mt 16:13-17.
15 Cf., Mt 16:18.
16 Cf., L. Giussani, At the Origin of the Christian Claim,
17 1 Cor 15:28.
18 Cf., L. Giussani, Porta la speranza, Marietti, Genoa, 1997
19 Cf., Jn 1:35-51.
20 Cf., L. Giussani, "Tu" (o dell'amicizia), BUR, Milan, 1997,
21 "Il n'est pas d'idéal auquel nous puissions nous sacrifier, car
de tous nous connaissons les mensonges, nous qui ne savons point ce
qu'est la vérité," A. Malraux, La Tentation de l'Occident,
Bernard Grasset, Paris, 1926, p. 216.
22 Dante, Purgatory, canto XVII, vv. 127-129.
23 "Te Deum," see Liturgy of the Hours.
24 Cf., Mt 3:17; Mk 1:11; Lk 3:22.
25 Cf. Lk 4:16-29.
26 Cf. Lk 2:41-50
27 Cf. Mt 16:21-23; Mk 8:31-33.