The Lord give you peace. I am Fr. Francesco Ielpo, Custos of the Holy Land, and I speak to you from Jerusalem. With Ash Wednesday we enter the holy season of Lent.

It is a time that does not begin with grand words, but with a simple and sober gesture, ashes placed upon the head. A humble sign, we acknowledge our misery and entrust ourselves to the infinite mercy of God.

In today’s Gospel Jesus does not ask us to do extraordinary things. He asks us to live almsgiving, prayer, and fasting in a true way, which are not optional practices nor ascetical exercises for a few. They are the three pillars of the Lenten journey, but Jesus is very clear. The problem is not what we do, but why and how we do it.

The Gospel warns us against a temptation that is always present, that of turning faith into a performance, Christian life into a scene to be acted out before others. The figure of the Pharisee should not be read as a distant character from the past, but as a possibility that also dwells in our own heart. It is the temptation to appear righteous, religious, consistent, instead of truly being so.

Jesus contrasts two styles, that of the apparent disciple, and that of the true disciple. The first lives to be seen, the second lives before God. The first sounds a trumpet when giving alms, the second gives in silence. The first prays to be noticed, the second enters his room and closes the door. The first displays his fasting, the second washes his face and anoints his head.

This does not mean hiding the good or withdrawing into a private faith. Rather, it means purifying our intention, returning to the heart of things. Lent, dear brothers, is not the time for spiritual Olympics, but the time of truth.

Jesus insists on a decisive word, the word is secret. It is there that our conversion takes place. In secret the masks fall, the applause fades, silence descends. In secret we remain alone before God and discover whether what we do truly springs from love or from the need for recognition.

Almsgiving, prayer, and fasting belong together, if we separate them they lose their meaning. Authentic prayer opens us to others, true fasting becomes sharing. Sincere almsgiving is born from a free heart.

Lent asks us to restore the unity of life, not to live a fragmented faith. Jesus does not reject reward, but clarifies which one truly matters, not the reward of men, but that of the Father. Before God there is no room for calculation, for compromise, for the search for approval. There is room only for truth.

And finally there is a detail we often forget, joy. Christian fasting is not displayed sadness, but rediscovered freedom. Ashes are not a sign of despair, but the beginning of a journey of hope. The detachment that discipleship asks is not a loss, but a gain. Not a sterile renunciation, but a promise of new life.

So at the beginning of this Lent, as we receive ashes upon our head, let us ask the Lord for a simple heart, capable of living the Gospel without clamor. A unified heart, able to pray, to give, and to fast in secret. A free heart, that does not need to appear in order to feel alive.

Peace and good from the Holy Land.