Fourth Easter Sunday (year A)  [26 April 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:14a, 36–41)

The account of Peter’s speech in Jerusalem on the morning of Pentecost continues, and since he is now filled with the Holy Spirit, he reads, as it were, an open book in God’s plan. Everything appears clear to him; he recalls the prophet Joel who had announced: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (Joel 2:28), and it is evident to him that we are at the dawn of the fulfilment of this promise. Through Jesus, rejected and put to death by men, yet raised and exalted by God, the Spirit has been poured out upon all flesh, and Jewish pilgrims from every corner of the Roman Empire have come to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the feast of the gift of the Law. During their journey and even upon arriving at the Temple in Jerusalem, the pilgrims sang psalms and implored God for the coming of the Messiah. Peter sought to open their eyes: the Messiah of whom you speak is that Jesus whom you have crucified, and when he declares Jesus to be Lord and Messiah, the Christ, these statements of his certainly seem very bold. If the man from Nazareth is the expected Messiah, this means that all the hope of Israel rests upon Jesus. Peter’s listeners were struck to the heart, says Luke, and Peter certainly knew how to touch their hearts. What must we do, they ask themselves? The answer is simple: repent to save yourselves from this perverse generation, and to repent, in biblical language, is precisely to turn around, to make a U-turn. There are two paths before us, and we often take the wrong one: we must then return to the right path. Peter makes a simple observation: the generation living at the time of Christ and the apostles was faced with a real challenge, namely to recognise in Jesus the Messiah awaited for centuries. Unfortunately, however, Jesus did not possess the characteristics or fulfil the hopes placed in the Messiah, who was imagined as the liberator of the Jewish people; thus, an error of judgement was made and the path was lost. For this reason, Peter calls on everyone to be converted and invites them to receive Baptism: be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit promised to you, to your children, and to all those who are far off, whom our Lord God will call. Furthermore, for Jews familiar with the study of the Scriptures, Peter recalls the prophecy of Joel – ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh’ – just as his words echo those of the prophet Isaiah concerning the peace and covenant desired by God with the people of Israel (cf. Is 49:1; 57:19). It was precisely through this Covenant that Israel felt bound to God: they were the chosen people, the son, as the prophet Hosea says (11:1), whilst other peoples seemed far from God. When Isaiah then states that peace is also for those who are far away, he recalls that the chosen people have a mission of peace for all humanity, called to enter into what might be called God’s plan of peace. The author notes that on that day three thousand were baptised. He adds that the three thousand Jews who had become Christians were among those whom Peter called ‘neighbours’. Little by little, throughout the Book of Acts, even those who were far off will join those ‘called’ by God. To them, St Paul will say, in his letter to the Ephesians: you who were once far off have now become neighbours through the blood of Christ. And it is Christ, our peace, for ‘of the two, the Jew and the Gentile’, he has made one (Eph 2:14–18).

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

We encountered Psalm 22/23 on the Fourth Sunday of Lent.  At the time, I emphasised three points in my commentary: first, the psalms speak of Israel as a whole, even though the speaker uses the first person singular, saying ‘I’; second, to describe its religious experience, Israel uses two comparisons: that of the Levite who finds joy in dwelling in the House of God, and that of the pilgrim who takes part in the sacred meal following the thanksgiving sacrifices. However, one must read between the lines to see that, through these two comparisons, the chosen people feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for God’s gratuitous Covenant. Thirdly, the early Christians recognised in this psalm the privilege of their own experience as the baptised, and Psalm 22/23 became, in the early Church, the hymn for the celebration of Baptism. I shall simply pause at the first verse: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” There are many references in the Bible. The prophet Micah prays thus: Lord, with your staff be the shepherd of your people, the flock that belongs to you, so that the people may perceive themselves as God’s inheritance (cf. Mic 7:14). In Psalm 15/16, however, we find the inverse expression: ‘Lord, my portion and my cup; you determine my lot; the portion that falls to me brings me joy; I truly have the finest inheritance.’ When God is compared to a shepherd and Israel to his flock, one dares to think that the chosen people are a treasure to their God, which is a bold notion, and the use of such language is an invitation to trust, for God is portrayed as a good shepherd—that is, the one who gathers, guides, nourishes, cares for, protects and defends his flock, watching over all its needs. The prophet Micah writes that God will gather together all the remnant of Israel (cf. 2:12), and bring them together as a flock, gathering the lame and the scattered sheep. Zephaniah takes up the same theme: I will save the lame sheep (cf. 3:19), I will gather those who are scattered, which means that whenever we sow division, we are working against God. God, the attentive shepherd, shepherd-guide and defender of his flock. We find this frequently in the Psalms, particularly in Psalm 94/95, which is the daily morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, where we read: ‘We are the people he leads, the flock guided by his hand’. In Psalm 77/78 we read that, like a shepherd, God leads his people, drives his flock into the desert, guides them, defends them, reassures them, and Psalm 79/80 begins with an appeal: “Shepherd of Israel: listen, you who lead Joseph, your flock, reveal your strength and come to save us”. It is clear that in difficult times, when the flock—that is, Israel—feels ill-guided, abandoned, mistreated or, worse still, beaten down, the prophets often turn to the image of the good shepherd to restore hope. It is therefore no surprise to find this theme in Second Isaiah, in the Book of the Consolation of Israel: God, like a shepherd, tends his flock; his arm gathers the lambs, carries them close to his heart, and leads the nursing ewes (cf. 40:11), so that along the roads they may still graze; on the barren heights shall be their pastures; they shall neither hunger nor thirst; the scorching wind and the sun shall no longer strike them, for he, full of compassion, will guide them, lead them to living waters (cf. Is. 49:9–10). Finally, Ezekiel also takes up this theme, saying that thus says the Lord God: “I myself will tend my sheep and search for them, just as a shepherd searches for his flock when he is among his scattered sheep; so I will search for my sheep and rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and thick fog; I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, in the valleys and in all the best places. I will feed them in good pasture, and their grazing grounds will be on the highlands of Israel; there my sheep will lie down in lush pastures and graze in rich pastures. ‘On the mountains of Israel, I myself will tend my flock and let them rest,’ declares the Lord God. ‘The lost sheep I will seek out; the strayed I will bring back; the injured I will bind up; the sick I will strengthen’ (cf. 34:11–16).  Today, in turn, we sing this Psalm 22/23, knowing that Jesus presented himself as the shepherd of the lost sheep, inviting us to place our trust in the tenderness of God the Shepherd. In a time like ours, when our societies are going through days of clouds and gloom, we are invited to contemplate the image of the Good Shepherd and to renew our trust: God, the true Good Shepherd, never abandons us. 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:20b–25)

Saint Peter addresses a particular social group, slaves, because slavery still existed at that time and, under Roman law, a slave was at the mercy of his master, an object in his hands. It therefore happened that slaves suffered mistreatment at the whim of their masters, and a Christian slave serving a non-Christian master was exposed to even harsher oppression. Peter essentially encourages us to imitate Christ, who was himself a ‘slave out of love’ (cf. Phil 2:7) and who devoted his entire life to the service of all people. How, then, did he behave? When insulted, he did not respond with insults; when made to suffer, he did not threaten, but entrusted himself to the One who judges justly. Saint Peter urges us to endure suffering even when doing good, knowing that it is a grace in God’s eyes to be able to behave like Christ when facing trials. Certainly there is no Christian vocation to suffering, but in suffering there is a call to behave according to the example of Christ. So it is not suffering for the sake of suffering, but imitating Christ, who himself suffered by taking our sins upon himself on the wood of the cross, so that, having died to sin, we might live for righteousness. For by his wounds we have been healed. God has saved us so that we may live for righteousness. We have been healed of our wounds, which are our inability to love and to give, to forgive, to share. Because of original sin, we were far from God and disoriented, wandering like sheep. In Christ, crucified for our sins, we have regained fidelity to God’s plan, and his wounds have healed us. Christ died to bear witness to the truth, remaining faithful to the Father even on the cross. The cross, a place of utter horror and unbridled human hatred, has become the throne of absolute love. In Jesus’ forgiveness of his executioners, we are given the chance to contemplate and believe in God’s love for humanity, revealed in the cross, which can transform and convert us.  The prophet Zechariah reminds us: “They will look upon him whom they have pierced” (cf. 12:10), and this heals us, saves us—that is, it makes us capable once more of loving and forgiving as Christ did. When we allow ourselves to be moved by this absolute love of God, our hearts of stone become hearts of flesh, capable of living as he did. Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by this contagion of mercy so that Christ may continue, through us too, the work of transforming all humanity: He continues to send out disciples “like lambs among wolves” (cf. Lk 10:3; Mt 10:16) so that, following in his footsteps, we may be witnesses everywhere to God’s infinite mercy.  

From the Gospel according to Saint John (10:1-10)

The coherence of this Sunday’s biblical readings is truly evident, for the psalm, the second reading and the Gospel lead us into a sheepfold. The psalm compares God’s relationship with Israel to a shepherd’s care for his flock: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want; he makes me lie down in green pastures”; in the second reading, Saint Peter speaks of people like lost, wandering sheep, invited to return “to your shepherd, the guardian of your souls”. Here, in the Gospel, we read a passage from the long discourse on the Good Shepherd and a sheepfold. To understand it, we must make the effort to imagine the landscape of the Near East, where the flock is gathered for the night in a well-guarded enclosure and in the morning the shepherd comes to release the sheep to lead them to pasture: a scene very familiar to Jesus’ listeners at the time, firstly because there were many flocks in Israel, and secondly because the Old Testament prophets had taken to comparing God’s relationship with his people to that of a shepherd caring for his flock. In the responsorial psalm we have just heard some passages on this subject, and I would add a reference to the prophet Isaiah, who emphasises God’s care for his people: full of compassion, he ‘will lead them to springs of water’ (49:9–10). Furthermore, it was said of the future Messiah that he would be a shepherd for Israel, but at the same time the prophets never ceased to warn against false shepherds, a real danger to the sheep, and a matter of life and death for the flock. Jesus, in turn, takes up precisely this same theme, highlighting the shepherd’s care for his sheep and the danger of false shepherds—a subject he revisits in this Sunday’s Gospel in the form of two brief, successive parables: that of the shepherd, followed by that of the gate. It is interesting that he takes care to introduce both with the solemn formula ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’, an expression that always introduces something new. But if the theme of the shepherd was well known, where is the novelty? On the other hand, John specifies that these two parables are addressed to the Pharisees: Jesus tells the first, but, as he notes, they did not understand what Jesus meant to say to them, so Jesus continues with the second. The Pharisees did not understand the first, or did not want to understand it, perhaps simply because, quite clearly, Jesus suggests that he himself is this good shepherd capable of bringing happiness to his people, and they suddenly find themselves demoted to the rank of bad shepherds. Is it not that they understood perfectly well what Jesus meant, but could not accept it because that would be to admit that this Galilean is the Messiah, the One sent by God? Jesus bears no resemblance whatsoever to the image they had of him, and this is perhaps why Jesus took care to say, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’. When he begins a discourse with this opening, one must pay particular attention, for it is equivalent to idiomatic expressions frequently found in the prophets of the Old Testament. Indeed, when the Spirit of God breathes into them words that are hard to understand or accept, the prophets always take care to begin—and sometimes end—their preaching with phrases such as ‘the word of the Lord’ or ‘thus says the Lord’. Although they knew this and were therefore aware that Jesus was speaking of matters of great importance, the Pharisees did not understand or did not wish to understand; nevertheless, Jesus persists, and John helps us to understand this deliberate insistence by noting that “then Jesus said again”. Here we see all of Jesus’ patience, as he tries in every way to convince his listeners: “Truly, truly, I say to you: I am the gate for the sheep” and whoever enters through me will be saved. Different ways to help them understand that he is the Messiah, the Saviour, and that only through him does the flock gain access to true life, life in abundance. We can draw one final lesson from this Gospel: Jesus says that the sheep follow the shepherd because they know his voice, and behind this image, we can discern a reality of the life of faith: our contemporaries will not follow Christ, will not be his disciples, if we do not make the voice of Christ resound, if we do not make the Word of God known. Is this not, once again, Jesus’ heartfelt appeal to make the sound of his voice heard by every means possible? 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Third Easter Sunday (year A) [19 April 2026] 

*First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:4, 22b–33)

The same Peter who, out of fear, had denied Jesus during his trial and who, after his death, had been holed up with the other disciples in a locked room, we find today, just fifty days later, standing and delivering an impromptu speech before thousands of people; and if Luke notes that he is standing, it is because the posture is symbolic: in a sense, Peter is awakening, coming back to life, rising up. Before going any further, it should be noted that up to this point Peter had not been a model of boldness, and yet it is precisely to him that Jesus now entrusts the boldest of missions: to continue the work of evangelisation, a mission that cost the Son of God himself his life, and the man who not long before had denied the Master will soon rejoice in being persecuted.  This entirely new strength, this boldness, Peter does not draw from himself, but is a gift from God. Let us return to that Pentecost morning in the year of Jesus’ death, when Jerusalem was teeming with people: they were pilgrims who had come from all over for the festival because, just like Peter and the other apostles of Jesus, they shared the hope of Israel, and it is on this hope that Peter relies to proclaim that the long-awaited Messiah has come and that we have had the privilege of knowing him. Peter emphasises in his speech the continuity of God’s work, which for him is a crucial point, and invokes the testimony of Psalm 15/16. His listeners are the least prepared to accept his words precisely because, having always awaited the Messiah, they have had time to form their own ideas about him—human ideas—and God cannot help but surprise our human ideas. One of the most unacceptable aspects of the mystery of Jesus for his contemporaries is his death on the cross: on Good Friday, Jesus, abandoned by all, truly seemed cursed by God himself, and so how could he be the Messiah? On Easter evening, the apostles realised that he was indeed the Messiah because they had witnessed his Resurrection.  Peter concludes by appealing to his listeners, telling them that if they have not been direct witnesses of the Resurrection, the only possible experience is that of seeing and hearing the twelve apostles transformed by the Holy Spirit

*Responsorial Psalm (15/16)

In the verses of Psalm 15/16, which are set before us today, some phrases seem to convey perfect happiness and everything appears so simple. The psalmist declares: ‘Lord, you are my God; I have made you my refuge; I have no good apart from you.’ In other verses, however, one senses the echo of danger, and Israel pleads, asking not to be abandoned to death nor to be allowed to see corruption. Here lies all the joy of Israel when the heart rejoices, the soul is in celebration because the Lord is ‘my portion and my cup, and I have no good apart from you’. Here Israel is likened to a Levite, to a priest who dwells ceaselessly in the temple of God and lives in intimacy with Him. The expression “Lord, my portion and my cup; upon You my lot depends” is an allusion to when the division of the land of Israel among the tribes of Jacob’s descendants was made by lot. At that time, the members of the tribe of Levi had not received a portion of land: their portion was the House of God, that is, service in the Temple, service to God, and their entire lives were consecrated to worship. They therefore had no territory, and their livelihood was secured by tithes and a portion of the harvests and meat offered in sacrifice. This also helps us understand the other verse of this psalm, which we do not hear today, where the psalmist says, ‘My portion makes me glad; I truly have the finest inheritance’. The Levites guarded the Temple day and night, and this is alluded to when the psalm notes, ‘even at night my heart instructs me’. In this psalm, one also senses the echo of danger, and the plea, ‘you cannot abandon me to death, nor let your holy one see corruption’, conveys the often-suffered tribulations of the chosen people.  The opening plea for help, ‘Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge’, and the repeated expressions of trust suggest a period when, indeed, trust was hard to come by, and this cry for help is at the same time a profession of faith, for it reflects the struggle against idolatry to remain faithful to the one God. In another verse of the psalm we read that all the idols of the land never cease to spread their harm, and people rush to follow them. This shows that Israel sometimes succumbed to idolatry but made a commitment not to fall back into it, and the statement ‘I have made you, my God, my only refuge’ conveys this resolve. We can then appreciate how eloquent the image of the Levite is, for it is a way of saying that by choosing to remain faithful to the true God, the people of Israel made the true choice that brings them into intimacy with God, and Israel’s trust inspires such striking phrases as ‘eternity of delights’ or ‘you cannot abandon me to death, nor let your friend see corruption’. One might wonder whether, when the psalm was written, there was already, albeit in a confused form, a first glimmer of faith in the Resurrection, even though we know that belief in individual resurrection appeared very late in Israel. Here it seems rather that the focus is on the people whose survival is in danger because of their succumbing to idolatry. But they are convinced that God will not abandon them, and that is why they affirm: ‘You cannot abandon me to death, nor let your friend see corruption’. Around the second century BC, when belief in the resurrection of each of us began to take hold, the phrase ‘you will not abandon me to death, nor let your friend see decay’ was understood in this sense, and later Christians reinterpreted this psalm in their own way, as we heard in the first reading. On the morning of Pentecost, Peter quoted this psalm to the Jewish pilgrims who had come in great numbers to Jerusalem for the feast, to show them that Jesus was truly the Messiah. He recalled that when David composed this psalm, without realising it, he was already announcing the Resurrection of the Messiah. Here we have an example of the first Christian preaching addressed to Jews, that is, how the first apostles reinterpreted Jewish tradition, discovering within it a new dimension: the proclamation of Jesus Christ. Over the centuries, this psalm has carried the prayer of Israel in its expectation of the Messiah, becoming enriched with new meanings; yet it was the first Christian generation that discovered and demonstrated that the Scriptures find their full meaning in Jesus Christ.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of the Apostle Peter (1:17–21)

In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we read Peter’s speech on the morning of Pentecost, a model of the first Christian preaching addressed to Jews. Here, however, in Peter’s letter, we see a sermon addressed to pagans—non-Jews who had become Christians—and it is obvious that the discourse is not the same, for it is the ABC of communication to adapt one’s language to the audience. And even though we do not know exactly to whom the letter is addressed—since in the opening lines Peter merely states that he is writing to the elect living as strangers in the five provinces of present-day Turkey, Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, what suggests they were not of Jewish origin is the phrase ‘you have been redeemed from the futile ways inherited from your fathers’. Peter, being Jewish himself, would not say such a thing to Jews, knowing all too well what hope runs through the Scriptures and how the whole life of his people is directed towards God. What strikes the eye in this simple passage is the striking number of allusions to the Bible, with expressions such as the blood of the Lamb without blemish or spot, the Father who judges impartially, and the fear of God; and if Peter uses them without explaining them, it is because his audience is familiar with them. But this is only possible if they are non-Jews. The most likely hypothesis is that many sympathisers gathered around the synagogues, and among them a significant number of those called ‘God-fearing’, who were so close to Judaism that they observed the Sabbath; they listened to all the synagogue readings on Saturday mornings, and consequently knew the Hebrew Scriptures well but had never gone so far as to ask for circumcision. It is thought that the early Christians were recruited mainly from among them, and it is worth returning to two expressions in Peter’s letter that may strike us as odd if we do not place them in their biblical context.  First of all, the expression ‘fear of God’ has a particular meaning precisely because God revealed himself to his people as Father. The fear of God, therefore, is not fear but a filial attitude made up of tenderness, respect, veneration and total trust, and Peter says that since you call upon God as your Father, you live in the fear of God by behaving as children. If you call upon as Father the One who judges everyone impartially according to their deeds, you therefore live in the fear of God. From Peter’s emphasis on the One who judges everyone impartially according to their deeds, we can surmise that some of these new Christians, coming from paganism, felt inferior to Christians of Jewish origin, and Peter therefore wishes to reassure them by saying, in essence: you are children just like the others; simply behave as children. The second phrase that might cause offence is: ‘you have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ’. The risk is of seeing this as a horrendous bartering, without being able to say clearly between whom and whom. But reading Peter’s sentence in full – “not with perishable things such as silver or gold were you redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect” – two things become clear: firstly, this is not a matter of bartering; our liberation is free, and Peter takes care to say ‘not with gold or silver’, a way of saying it is free. Secondly, Peter does not place the emphasis where we do, because the blood of a lamb without blemish or defect is the blood that was shed every year at Passover and which marked Israel’s liberation from all forms of slavery.  This blood that was shed heralded God’s ongoing work to free his people and, for a reader familiar with the Old Testament, is a reference to the feast of freedom—a freedom on the journey towards the Promised Land. But now, Peter notes, definitive liberation has been accomplished in Jesus Christ. We have now entered   a new life better than the Promised Land, and this liberation consists precisely in calling upon God as Father. We can then better understand  the phrase: you have been redeemed, that is, freed from the superficial way of life inherited from your fathers; ‘superficial’ here means that it leads nowhere, as opposed to eternal life. Since the Son lived as a man in trust until the end, it is all of humanity that has rediscovered the path of a filial attitude. Ultimately, it is a matter of having rediscovered the path to the tree of life, to use the image from Genesis. Paul would say: you have passed from the slave’s attitude of fear and mistrust to the filial reverence proper to children.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (24:13–35)

Note the parallel between these two phrases: their eyes were prevented from recognising him, and then their eyes were opened; this means that the two disciples of Emmaus passed from the deepest discouragement to enthusiasm simply because their eyes were opened. Why were they opened? Because Jesus explained the Scriptures to them, and beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted in all the Scriptures what concerned him. This means that Jesus Christ is at the centre of God’s plan revealed in Scripture. The Old Testament must not, however, be reduced to a mere backdrop for the New, because to read the prophets as if they were announcing only the historical coming of Jesus Christ is to betray the Old Testament and strip it of all its historical depth, given that the Old Testament is the testimony of God’s long-suffering patience in revealing himself to his people and enabling them to live in his Covenant. The words of the prophets, for example, apply first and foremost to the era in which they were spoken, and we must not forget that reading Jesus Christ as the centre of human history and therefore also of Scripture is a Christian interpretation. The Jews have a different one, and we Jews and Christians agree in invoking God the Father of all mankind and in reading in the Old Testament the long wait for the Messiah, but let us not forget that recognising Jesus as the Messiah is not self-evident; it becomes so for those whose eyes are somehow opened and whose hearts consequently burn within them, just as those of the disciples of Emmaus did. It would be wonderful to know all the biblical texts that Jesus went through with the two disciples of Emmaus. We do know, however, that at the end of this biblical journey Jesus concludes by asking: ‘Was it not necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and enter into his glory?’ This phrase presents a real difficulty for us because it lends itself to two possible interpretations. The first possible interpretation is “it was necessary for the Christ to suffer in order to deserve to enter into his glory”, as if there were a requirement on the part of the Father; but this interpretation betrays the Scriptures because it presents Jesus’ relationship with the Father in terms of merit, which is not at all in keeping with the Old Testament revelation that Jesus developed. God is nothing but Love, Gift and Forgiveness, and with Him it is not a matter of balance, merit, arithmetic or calculation. It is also true that the New Testament often speaks of the fulfilment of the Scriptures, but not in this sense. There is, however, a second way of reading this phrase: ‘it was necessary for the Christ to suffer in order to enter into his glory’: the glory of God is his presence manifested to us. Now we know that God is Love. One could rephrase the sentence thus: ‘it was necessary for the Christ to suffer’ so that God’s love might be manifested and revealed. Jesus himself gave a foreshadowing of his death when he said to his disciples, ‘There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for those one loves’. It was therefore necessary for love to go that far, to the point of facing hatred, abandonment and death, so that we might discover that God’s love is the greatest love, so that we might discover how far God’s love goes—so far beyond our own way of loving and so unimaginable in the true sense of the word. It was necessary for it to be revealed to us, and for it to be revealed, it had to go that far. “It was necessary” does not therefore mean a requirement on God’s part, but a necessity for us; and to say that the events of Jesus’ life fulfil the Scriptures is to say that his entire life is a revelation in action of this love of the Father, whatever the circumstances, including persecution, hatred, condemnation and death. The Resurrection of Jesus authenticates this revelation: this love is stronger than death.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Thoughts on food

Several things prompted me to reflect on this.

One was a film broadcast by Rai 1 on 2 April 2026 (Maundy Thursday) on the subject of eating disorders. The film was called “Something Lilac.”

It is the story of a teenager who struggles with eating disorders, although the film focuses mainly on bulimia. The main eating disorders are anorexia and bulimia.

Another inspiration was seeing someone again at the centre who had suffered from these problems in the past and whom I had supported psychologically.

Finally, about a month ago, a lady I had known for years and who had long been troubled by these issues passed away. She wouldn’t listen to anyone; she ‘wasted away to the bone’.

And so, as with all my short articles, I ‘dredged up’ the theoretical knowledge I’d acquired over the years, combined with my observations of cases at work.

The issue of food is important for all living beings. If we do not eat, we do not live.

But here too, as in all situations in life, striking the right balance is not always easy.

The ideal approach is to eat without excesses that could cause metabolic disorders, and in such a way that our body functions well.

Sometimes, for various reasons, human beings alter their relationship with food. Think of the periods when people suffered from food shortages due to wars, epidemics, or other causes.

Cases of self-imposed fasting are also described in the Bible, but it was around 1600 that cases of significant weight loss due to diet began to be observed.

In contrast to the time of the ancient Romans, when they would indulge in huge feasts followed by self-induced vomiting – if I recall correctly, they would tickle their palates with a feather to induce vomiting and then start eating again.

The history of eating disorders is not a modern phenomenon, but has its roots in distant times.

In the Middle Ages, fasting was often associated with demonic possession, or conversely with mystical behaviour.

‘Mystics’ would fast to purify the body, draw as close as possible to God, and sometimes to withdraw from earthly life. Unlike the disorder seen today, the motivation was not beauty, but the aspiration to holiness.

Nowadays, distorted relationships with food are recognised as complex disorders, influenced by cultural and psychological factors.                                  

These are serious disorders, often interlinked, and requiring treatment by various specialists.  In short, anorexia involves a profound fear of gaining weight, stemming from a distorted perception of one’s own body.

Bulimia involves overeating followed by vomiting or self-induced purging – to prevent weight gain.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Such issues are more prevalent in industrialised cultures, where there is a higher standard of living and the idea of being attractive is associated with thinness.

Through the media, the idea of physical perfection has also reached less developed cultures, fostering a desire for physical attractiveness; which would not be a bad thing, were it not for the harm it causes to the body.

Nor should we overlook the influence of cultural role models; such as extremely thin models who trigger a desire to be like them – sometimes at any cost.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             And here I recall that years ago, there was a proposal to make figures such as the Barbie doll ‘put on weight’, to correct the image she unconsciously conveyed. 

Until recently, it was mostly young people and women who were affected by such eating disorders. Lately, however, the issue has also come to affect men.

In my professional practice, I have encountered such issues. I have carried out various psychodiagnostic assessments where the main problems were eating disorders, even in very young individuals. 

These were mostly female subjects, but I have also encountered a few male adolescents.

In psychotherapeutic treatment, working alongside other professionals, I have dealt with a few cases of anorexia in young girls, whilst the few cases of bulimia I have encountered were in older women.

This is in line with the theoretical principles that situate anorexia in early adolescence and bulimia in late adolescence or early adulthood.

I recall that the thin girls were always restless, worried and tormented, whilst the more ‘full-figured’ women were cheerful, sometimes even friendly. One of them was even able to joke about her considerable weight. 

The progression of these conditions can vary; some are severe and can compromise general health – and there is a risk of mortality. 

People with anorexia generally tend to be somewhat more stubborn; they may refuse not only food but also new experiences, and adopt a closed-off attitude; people with bulimia mainly exhibit ‘emotional volatility’, moments of anger and emptiness that they unconsciously try to fill with food.

Emotionally, these people may feel anxious, may be impulsive, and may experience shame. Anorexics are ashamed of their bodies, which they always perceive as enormous; bulimics are distressed by their lack of control, which sometimes extends beyond eating habits.

The characteristics of these issues are kept hidden for a long time. In doing so, they make it difficult to form a genuine relationship with others, with sufferers usually appearing more immature and superficial.

These people are united  in an exaggerated way by a hunger for care and affection. They have an immense fear of being abandoned, and that other people might stop loving them.

But it is a question of  ‘how strong this feeling is’, because everyone  wants to be loved; they want to have a healthy relationship based on trust and mutual respect.

Intellectually, those with eating disorders may exhibit rigid thinking and a distorted perception of their body’s condition; in less severe cases, there remains a dissatisfaction with their physical appearance or certain parts of it.

In more severe cases, body image and how it is experienced often impairs their ability to assess reality.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi  Psychologist – Psychotherapist

Bread of the Life. Mysticism of Vision and Faith

(Jn 6:35-40)

At the end of the first century, churches felt the risk of collapse. The obtuse gaze of the environment around the first fraternities tended to close the Mystery.

But contrary to the First Testament (Ex 33:22-23) by Faith one now ‘sees’ God ‘and’ lives, without fear (Ex 3:6).

He who «sees» the Son «has» the same Life as the Eternal (v.40).

The Vision of Faith, the Vision of the Son, the Vision of the glorious outcome of the One who was rejected by the religious authorities and considered accursed by God, makes one become One with Him.

It is resurrection today, even in the fast and heavy experience of dispersive existence.

The Image that was considered impossible and could not be held, gives way to a process of interpretation, action, rearrangement, which attracts the future.

It gives path to the completeness of God's humanizing and diverse world.

The shift in gaze breaks the web of appearances, of banal, inherited or à la page beliefs.

In short: ‘grasping’ Him becomes the engine of salvation, the foundation that surpasses the pre-human.

Perceiving Him becomes Encounter; in the proper and perennial dimension. Principle of blissful eternity.

According to believers in Jesus, the Source of full and indestructible life [«Life of the Eternal»: v.40 Greek text] is not material bread.

Already on this earth, for each one all-encompassing Food does not lie in any trivial certainty.

Rather, it is necessary to «See the Son» (v.40): to grasp in the Master a story that does not end in failure.

Despite the rejection of the leaders, the outcome of His-our story is the indestructible Glory.

And «Believing in Him» ​​(v.40) does not depend on a shared cultural background or social standing, but on an unrepeatable elaboration.

‘Seeing’ and having Faith is to trust in the luminous [it seems absurd] Vision that is communicated in the most intimate fibres and from the very first 'Birth'. Certain of the full attunement and realisation in that super-eminent Figure.

It is a Faith-Vision that reads the meaning and enables direct appropriation: it flies over insurmountable obstacles.

A Faith-Gesture that gushes out, a Faith-Action that becomes a ferment of expansion, because it has already aroused acumen, global attention, intimate consensus.

We do not adhere because of enthusiasm or initiatives [the “Church of events”].

Life of the Eternal within us begins in the eye of the soul; an echo of primordial Dream.

It enters into grasping the Father's trajectory. He wants for His minimums a fullness of imprint and character, without conformity.

Only thanks to the Gift in which we recognize ourselves from our roots and in essence, we perceive joyful consonances that identify desires, words, actions and the journey’s type of the Risen One Himself, pulsating inside us.

The Person of Christ is the only Food without homologation.

Sustained by the Bread-Person we can avoid both the search for false security and the craving for supports, preferring Broken Bread.

The nourishment of the earth preserves physical life, but it cannot make us revive through uniques personal Genesis, nor open a way trough death.

This gives value to each moment.

To internalize and live the message:

What does it mean for you ‘to see’ the Son and ‘believe’ in Him?

[Wednesday 3rd wk. in Easter, April 22, 2026]

That which gives value to every moment

(Jn 6:35-40)

Jesus' words imply the clear dissimilarity between ordinary food and Bread that does not perish.

The distinction is taken from Deut 8:3 - with reference to the Manna-Word of the Lord (wisdom food that liberates and imparts life).

Wis 16:20-21, 26 recognises the manna of the wilderness to be food prepared by angels, but what really keeps one alive is the Word.

Those heavenly fruits, though delicious and able to satisfy every taste, do not satiate - they do not nourish completely.

Cultural paradigms that identified manna with wisdom also enter into the symbolic language used by Christ.

He thus reveals himself in the discourse on the Bread of Life.

Coming to the Lord is not within our reach. Doing the works of the law, perhaps yes - with effort - but doing the Work of God is not unnatural.

It does not depend on a thought, a choice or a disciplinary practice.

In short, the Subject of the walk in the Spirit is God Himself, working in us. 

Human action is at every juncture a response to his self-revelation and his own action [cosmic and in one's soul; convergent or not].

The Coming from above is critical: it arouses the relationship of Faith. Personal relationship, which is not mere assent and fulfilment, but reading and seeing.

Forward action and the discovery of resurrection - in particular, of shadow sides that become resources.

Thus Faith-love expands life, because it has its input from divine generosity, from Grace.

It thus becomes decision, occupation, responsibility; inescapable and diriment duty - despite this, personal.

Christ is Food that must be eaten, minced, by means of Faith.

The evocation becomes Eucharistic, realisation of the "Life of the Eternal" (v.40 Greek text), even apart from sought-after manners; here and now.

By dying, without any delay Jesus delivers the Spirit (Jn 19:30) that suddenly arouses the sacramental experience (Jn 19:34).

The Life of the Eternal is not a pious hope in the afterlife: the term designates God's own intimate life, which unfolds and bursts into history [sometimes unceremoniously] in a multifaceted manner.

Energy, Food, New Lucidity: it reaches women and men who see and believe in the Son.

It is a Faith-Vision that reads the meaning, and enables direct appropriation: it overcomes insurmountable obstacles.

A Faith-Gesture that gushes forth; a Faith-Action that becomes a ferment of dilation, because it has already aroused acumen, global attention, and intimate consent.

It sharpens and expands the transformative resources of souls and events themselves.

It bestows in the first person overall generative abilities - external and internal, indestructible; which lose nothing [no longer doomed to death: v.39].

The dull gaze around the first fraternities already sealed the Mystery.

But contrary to the First Testament (Ex 33:22-23), by Faith one now sees God and lives, without fear (Ex 3:6).

He who "sees" the Son "has" the same Life as the Eternal (v.40).

The Vision of Faith, the Vision of the Son, the Vision of the glorious outcome of the one who was rejected by the religious authorities and considered cursed by God, makes one become One with Him.

It is actual resurrection, even in the swift and heavy experience of dispersive existence.

The Image considered impossible and which could not be held, gives way to a process of interpretation, action, rearrangement, which attracts future.

It gives way to the completeness of God's humanising and different world.

The shift of gaze breaks the web of appearances, of banal, inherited or à la page convictions.

In short: perceiving Him becomes an engine of salvation, a foundation that surpasses the pre-human.

Perceiving it becomes Encounter; in its own and perennial dimension. Principle of blissful eternity.

At the end of the first century, the churches feel the risk of collapse.

The gradual departure from pagan religion in general, and Judaizing devotion in particular, entailed a wide-ranging debate with customary and internal, even liturgical implications.

The battle with Pharisaic purism sparked all kinds of controversies, even about whether or not foreigners should be segregated.

Differences of opinion even arose over the canon of Scripture itself (for Christians, already long since in Hellenistic Greek).

According to believers in Jesus, the Source of full and indestructible life ["Life of the Eternal": v.40 Greek text] is not material bread.

Already on this earth, the all-embracing Food does not lie in any trivial certainty.

One must rather "See the Son" (v.40).

It means grasping in the Master a story that does not end in failure, because despite the rejection of the leaders, the outcome of his-our story is the divine condition. Indestructible glory.

And "Believing in Him" (v.40) does not depend on cultural background or social position, but on an unrepeatable elaboration.To see and have Faith is to trust in the luminous [seemingly absurd] Vision that is communicated in the most intimate fibres and from the very first 'Birth'. Certain of full harmony and realisation in that sovereign Figure.

We do not adhere out of enthusiasm or initiative [the "Church of events", as Pope Francis says].

The life of the Eternal in us begins in the eye of the soul; an echo of the primordial Dream.

It comes in grasping the Father's trajectory. He wants for His least ones a fullness of imprint and character, without conformity.

Only thanks to the Gift in which we recognise ourselves from our roots and in essence, do we perceive joyful consonances that identify desires, words, actions and the kind of path of the Risen One Himself, pulsating within us.

The Person of Christ is the only Food without homologation.

Supported by the Father-Person, we can avoid both the search for false security and the craving for support. E.g. acquaintances, financial backers, notable institutions that guarantee privileges; and so on.

He prefers the broken Bread.

The nourishment of the earth preserves physical life, but cannot revive us through unique personal Genesis, nor open a way through death.

This gives value to every moment.

To internalise and live the message:

What does it mean for you to see the Son and believe in Him?

Do not project onto God the image of the servant-master relationship

The multiplication of the loaves and fishes is a sign of the great gift that the Father has given to humanity and that is Jesus himself!

He, the true "bread of life" (v. 35), wants to satiate not only bodies but also souls, giving the spiritual food that can satisfy a deep hunger. This is why he invites the crowd to get not the food that does not last, but the food that remains for eternal life (cf. v. 27). It is a food that Jesus gives us every day: his Word, his Body, his Blood. The crowd listens to the Lord's invitation, but does not understand its meaning - as happens so often to us too - and asks him: "What must we do to do the works of God?" (v. 28). Jesus' listeners think that He asks them to observe the precepts in order to obtain other miracles such as the multiplication of the loaves. It is a common temptation, this, to reduce religion only to the practice of laws, projecting onto our relationship with God the image of the relationship between servants and their master: servants must perform the tasks the master has assigned, in order to have his benevolence. This we all know. So the crowd wants to know from Jesus what actions they must do to please God. But Jesus gives an unexpected answer: "This is the work of God: that you believe in him whom he has sent" (v. 29). These words are also addressed to us today: God's work does not consist so much in 'doing' things, but in 'believing' in Him whom He has sent. This means that faith in Jesus enables us to do the works of God. If we allow ourselves to be involved in this relationship of love and trust with Jesus, we will be able to do good works that smell of the Gospel, for the good and needs of our brothers and sisters.

The Lord invites us not to forget that if it is necessary to worry about bread, it is even more important to cultivate a relationship with Him, to strengthen our faith in Him who is the "bread of life", who came to satisfy our hunger for truth, our hunger for justice, our hunger for love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 5 August 2018].

The Gospel that has been proclaimed at this celebration helps us to live more intensely the sad moment of our Brother's departure from earthly life. Our sorrow at losing him is mitigated by hope in the Resurrection, based on the very words of Jesus:  "For this is the will of my Father, that every one who sees the Son and believes in him should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day" (Jn 6: 40). In the face of the mystery of death, for the person who has no faith everything would seem to be irreparably lost. It is then Christ's word that lights up life's journey and gives every moment of it value. Jesus Christ is the Lord of life, he came to raise on the last day all that the Father gave him (cf. Jn 6: 39). This is also the message that Peter proclaims very forcefully on the Day of Pentecost (cf. Acts 2: 14, 22b-28). He shows that death could not hold Jesus back. God freed him from anguish because it was not possible for him to be held in its power. On the Cross Christ won the victory that was to be made manifest with his triumph over death, namely, his Resurrection.

[Pope Benedict, funeral homily Cardinal Poggi 7 May 2010]

Jesus links belief in the resurrection to his own person: “I am the Resurrection and the Life” (Jn 11:25). In him, through the mystery of his Death and Resurrection, the divine promise of the gift of “eternal life” is fulfilled. This life implies total victory over death: “The hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear the voice [of the Son] and come forth, those who have done good, to the resurrection of life ...” (Jn 5:28-29). “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day” (Jn 6:40).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 28 October 1998]

He exhorts: “Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give to you” (v. 27). That is to say, seek salvation, the encounter with God.

With these words, he seeks to make us understand that, in addition to physical hunger man carries within him another hunger — all of us have this hunger — a more important hunger, which cannot be satisfied with ordinary food. It is a hunger for life, a hunger for eternity which He alone can satisfy, as he is “the bread of life” (v. 35). Jesus does not eliminate the concern and search for daily food. No, he does not remove the concern for all that can make life more progressive. But Jesus reminds us that the true meaning of our earthly existence lies at the end, in eternity, it lies in the encounter with Him, who is gift and giver. He also reminds us that human history with its suffering and joy must be seen in a horizon of eternity, that is, in that horizon of the definitive encounter with Him. And this encounter illuminates all the days of our life. If we think of this encounter, of this great gift, the small gifts of life, even the suffering, the worries will be illuminated by the hope of this encounter. “I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst” (v. 35). This refers to the Eucharist, the greatest gift that satisfies the soul and the body. Meeting and welcoming within us Jesus, “Bread of Life”, gives meaning and hope to the often winding journey of life. This “Bread of Life” is given to us with a task, namely, that we in our turn satisfy the spiritual and material hunger of our brothers, proclaiming the Gospel the world over. With the witness of our brotherly and solidary attitude toward our neighbour, we render Christ and his love present amid mankind.

May the Blessed Virgin sustain us in the search and sequela of her Son Jesus, the true bread, the living bread which does not spoil, but which endures for eternal life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 2 August 2015]

(Jn 6:30-35)

What the term «Bread» used by Jesus in this pericope alludes to is derived from the Hebrew term «Lechem», whose root [consonants «l-h-m»] evokes his «being ground» and «sifted» in the Passion of love; thus, it relates in filigree to the complete gift on the Cross.

According to a Jewish belief, the coming of the Messiah would be accompanied by a shower of Manna from heaven - called Manna of the Second Redeemer - to satisfy material appetites.

Bread that does not last.

There were also rabbinic speculations that reflected other claims, not of physical necessity; and they told of the «bread» descended from above in a sapiential figure (Deut 8:3: «man does not live by bread alone, but by what comes from the mouth of the Lord»; cf. Wis 16:26).

In order to satisfy existential needs and great questions of meaning, Jesus reveals and presents Himself as the indestructible Bread of Life.

There are questions we cannot answer: why the pain and humiliation, why there are fortunate people and others who through no fault of their own live unhappily; for what great task we were born and why despite the comforts we still do not feel fulfilled.

Our experience is as if shrouded in the confusion of underlying questions... and often lacking even the eye and warmth of a Witness.

So we look for a Person who translates everything into Relation, and we long for his sapiential Food - a foundation, the humanising warmth, and a synthesis of all truth, of all history.

Only Jesus and his story give meaning to the many happenings; also to limits, wounds, boundaries, precariousness.

He is Dream, Meaning, Action and Voice of the Father. Key, Centre and Destination of each one and of humanity. The only Food for the 'hunger' and the only Source for the 'thirst' of the woman and man subjected to trials and questions.

In Jesus' time, by widespread devotion Moses continued to be the great leader to believe and adhere to. But according to the Lord, that of the Exodus of the "fathers" is configured as a proposal that has no future: it does not guarantee orientation, subsistence and a joyful, solid and full life.

It does not even remain as a stump of the now. It is only an archaic seed, a particular excrescence undone in favour of the mystical and renewed Wheat that makes one proceed on the authentic Path.

The pious and inactual custom - with all its labours - had not secured the great change: access to the 'land of the free'.

The Gift from Heaven prepared and arranged another Birth, upsetting from the root the light, tedious and insipid nourishment; whatever, for all seasons.

No reassuring recipe comes our way, because the 'second Genesis' and growth in the Spirit has character, but it does not happen once and for all.

Even the wounds and uncertainties of life become a 'call' to feed on the Person of Christ. But reinterpreting Him with new answers to new questions; to generate again and grow in Him and of Him.

So we are in the episodes, yet out of time; in the Love that is born, yet new.

We can experience the taste of living, instead of the condemnation of always feeling undermined.

For this spousal and ever-new union, the immense scope of his Person minced, ruminated, made one's own as one does with food, becomes Life itself of the Eternal (v.33).

Anointing that does not lapse, that calls us together to Concelebrate.

[Tuesday 3rd wk. in Easter, April 21, 2026]