From the beginning, human beings have lived in groups, driven by the instinct for protection. The clan arises to guarantee survival. They share origins, linked by the perception of being descended from a common ancestor.

It could be said that Jesus was born into the line of David. He is the Messiah awaited by the people of Israel, yet he breaks free from the exclusive confines of the Jewish clan to reach all of humanity. This is how Matthew narrates his birth, with its openness to all nations, represented by the Magi from the East.

The clan clearly defines the boundary between insiders and outsiders. Several clans will form a tribe. They share language, culture, and even morality. There will be keys to interpreting reality, which will be known only to the tribe.

In a way, every institution, insofar as it is rigid in its structures, obeys the philosophy of the clan, which renounces the freedom to be an individual, in order to bolster the structure and the postulates that guarantee survival.

Jesus will clash head-on with the clan culture of the Pharisees, or the Sadducees, who fiercely defend their structure.

Freedom and love in Jesus, as attributes of the Father, cannot be curtailed by rules that do not consider the person in their needs.

Jesus universalizes relationships through love. Tribal rituals, such as fasting, Sabbath rest, food, and impurity, are superseded by love.

The family is the first clan we move within. Conflicts often arise between being and preserving, between charisma and structure. But the family transforms. It becomes a dynamic clan, integrating new members who bring their own unique characteristics. It constantly chooses between being a clan or a fraternity.

If all outside influence is blocked, clans become endogamous, and as genetics itself illustrates, deficiencies and diseases reproduce and multiply when there is no renewal. New blood strengthens health. An open family, far from dissolving, is reinforced. A family that becomes a clan eventually dies out due to a lack of reproduction.

At the cellular level, although it’s not the same, we also know that cells reproduce by division. If there is no division, there is no life: “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain.” John 12:24.

Leo XIV warned against the dangers of self-absorption and emphasized that fraternity is not an impossible dream, but a call to unity and compassion in a world filled with conflict and violence. His message was a call to empathy and understanding toward others, promoting a genuine fraternity that overcomes divisions and arrogance, and is based on love and hope renewed each day. 

Catechesis, November 12, 2025

A family thrives on balance when it combines the new with the stable, when it is open to the future and cherishes tradition.

The family unites and protects its members. The clan wields power to defend its existence. When threatened, it reinforces its internal boundaries, demanding cohesion, and its external boundaries, attacking perceived intruders.

Clericalism can be seen as a clan-like entity. Synodality shares in the spirit of family; it is fraternal.

Synodality and clericalism are key concepts in the life of the Church. Synodality implies a Church in which all the baptized actively participate in ecclesial life through communal discernment, co-responsibility, and mutual listening. Clericalism, on the other hand, is a culture that promotes the abuse of power, hierarchical relationships, and the exclusion of the laity. Pope Francis denounced clericalism as a perversion of the priesthood and offered synodality as a response to this problem. Synodality seeks a Church that discerns together, where everyone listens to and learns from one another, and that promotes the effective participation of the laity, including women, in decision-making spaces.

The Church has abolished the female diaconate, disregarding its historical existence. For many, the clan is more important than sisterhood. Fear breeds a search for security.

Pope Leo told the participants of the meeting for fraternity on November 12 and 13 of this year:

Brother, sister, where are you among the despised, imprisoned, and rejected migrants, among those who seek salvation and hope and find only walls and indifference? Where are you, brother, when the poor are blamed for their poverty, forgotten, and discarded, in a world that prioritizes profit over people? Brother, sister, where are you in a hyper-connected life where loneliness corrodes social bonds and makes us strangers even to ourselves?

The response cannot be silent: we must chart a new “direction of life” that generates growth and development.

Jesus was born into a clan, but he came to form the great human family. He would die as king of the Jews, but condemned by those who saw in his actions a threat to the exclusive clan of Judaism.

These past few days, I’ve had an experience that prompted this article, especially around Christmas. The Sara Center, a resource for homeless people living with HIV, was celebrating its thirtieth anniversary. It was created at the beginning of the epidemic. An uninhabited rural house was converted into a home for the most marginalized people with HIV in our Western society.

It bears the name of Sara, alluding to Abraham’s wife. The 1992 Olympics left as a memento of the celebration the Abraham Spirituality Center, which later became a parish. Spectacular in its design and dimensions.

We felt that Abraham should be complemented by a social project. That’s why we chose that name when creating the shelter. And of course, it also celebrates the value of women. Women, great caregivers and often marginalized as well.

The news of the center’s opening caused such a stir in the neighborhood that several episodes of violence occurred that are best forgotten.

More than thirty years later, the fears, which were once threats, have dissipated. Fears regarding public health, such as contagion, were understandable given the limited information available to the population. But the most outlandish and amusing fear was that of depreciating property values. This was the economic impact on the neighborhood. While not a central area, its tranquility is valued, and housing prices are above the city average.

The clan defended itself, feeling threatened by dangerous intruders. The HIV-positive residents of the same neighborhood, who lived in their own homes, posed no threat to the area’s health. Some of them also protested against the project. The clan was so strong that HIV was only terrifying when it came from outside.

Hundreds of neighbors and all the parishioners joined together to attack the project. This left wounds. An event like this puts the living out of the Gospel under strain.

The anniversary celebration barely drew a hundred people. That number alone suggests that the good done at this shelter doesn’t warrant as much attention as it did in its early days.

Upon arriving at the venue, which was the same as the first assembly held over thirty years prior—the parish church—one was surprised to find the doors firmly shut. It seemed the event wasn’t authorized inside, as it wasn’t considered a religious ceremony. Everyone was quietly expressing their surprise at having to hold the event outdoors.

Parking was also prohibited in the cobbled perimeter where Sunday parishioners leave their vehicles. It was cold and damp, though perhaps more bearable outdoors than inside the stone church. But the absence of an open church was certainly missed. Mother Teresa of Calcutta visited this church, and they have a relic of the saint on display. Furthermore, an open church encourages prayer.

The speeches were laudatory, praising the work done. The authorities felt compelled to offer a few more or less clever words. Without concrete action behind them, they ring hollow and mock the poor. Apparently, the conflicts sparked by the opening of the Sara Center seem to have been resolved. But the same problems persist, the same ones that existed at the beginning. The poor are a nuisance. They are cornered by being deprived of the illegal spaces they use as shelter. We still fail to provide adequate care, regardless of HIV status. The clergy’s clan-like response also remains unchanged: they are not part of our clan. At most, some of their needs are met, but they are left outside our circle.

Meanwhile, I was thinking that, even if it wasn’t a liturgical act, a prayer of thanksgiving could have been offered. As they shared their experiences, a few of the residents came forward to give their testimonies. Among them was an elegant, elderly woman with her hair up, smiling and grateful. She explained her time at the home. She had arrived very ill with tuberculosis, so much so that for weeks she didn’t know where she was. The words “welcome” and “family” were repeated, as with the other residents, but she praised God. She had rediscovered Him in the home and thanks to its residents. Now she volunteers elsewhere, and she radiated a peace and joy that made it seem as if the God confined within the Church had come out into the courtyard. At Christmas, Jesus comes out to meet us, since He is born among those who live outside. He leaves the clan to become a brotherhood.