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

(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]

(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 advent 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.

In the messianic hopes of a golden age and liberation lurked the same expectations that lurk in the folds of our going, even further than those fulfilled by Moses.

We seek eminent food.

For there are questions that we cannot answer: why the pain and humiliation, why there are fortunate people and others who blamelessly live unhappily; for what great task we were born, and why in spite of our comforts we still do not feel fulfilled.

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

We then seek 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 and all history.

Only Jesus and his story give meaning to the many happenings; even 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 Nourishment for the 'hunger' and the only true 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 peculiar excrescence unravelled in favour of the mystical and renewed Wheat that moves us forward on the authentic Path.

The great ancient warlord had stopped at the religious dimension and its requisitions. What was missing was the leap of Faith ignited by the revelation of the Father's heart, in the teaching, the story, and the Person of Christ.

Accepting Jesus as the authentic motive and driving force, the support and nourishment that would really get hunger out of the way, is inseparable from accepting his proposal:

"Do you wish to unite your life with Mine? One Body, between us and Him - burning.

In such an approach, not even heaven had been able to satiate the doubts - a paradoxically growing hunger and a parchedness that forced one to return to draw, instead of being able to quench the thirst of the people.

The approach of simple religiosity plagued the lives of women and men, increasingly so.

Nervous, skittish and dissatisfied people. A wedding banquet devoid of festivity, due to cold, distant, impersonal, Spirit-resistant doctrine and discipline.

The pious, outdated custom - with all its travails - had not ensured, and neither does it guarantee today, the great change that sustains us on our journey and ceaselessly urges, kindling the heart of Friendship: access to the 'land of the free', hence of love.

The Gift from Heaven prepared and arranged another Birth, disrupting from the root the common religious relationship - light, tedious and insipid nourishment; whatever, and never thickening: 'good' for all seasons.

All this was coupled with a perspective of Happiness postponed to the afterlife, after death, and on the basis of external merits.

A swampy climate of compressed and stagnant energies, which did not vibrate with joy.

With Jesus, simple believing becomes Faith - no longer assent and demeaning repetition, which hurls and drags us beyond our 'centre' - but unique, unprecedented and creative action. First of all of God himself in us; for a complete realisation: as sons.

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

Uniquely in this sense, the expression "I Am" (v.35) underlines the exclusivity of the "discourse of revelation".

Christ totally reinterprets, and overturns, the idea of transcendence of the divine condition in the human.The Most High is received and assimilated with a view to germination and likeness, no longer to external imitation and obedience.

"Too much" is only the Wisdom of his Revelation, which frees us from doubts because it makes them fruitful and propulsive; not at all humiliating in the same way as the ancient vacillations.

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

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

Our identity - better: 'imprint' - is not that of pretenders [which does not quench the soul's thirst] but that of being loved.

Thus we no longer need to silence all normal demands.

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 and made one's own as one does with food, becomes Life itself of the Eternal (v.33).

An anointing that does not lapse, that calls together to concelebrate.

To internalise and live the message:

Does my soul hunger for pity offices on the body or for rebirth, for meaning, and for a path to freedom?

12. Though up to now we have been speaking mainly of the Old Testament, nevertheless the profound compenetration of the two Testaments as the one Scripture of the Christian faith has already become evident. The real novelty of the New Testament lies not so much in new ideas as in the figure of Christ himself, who gives flesh and blood to those concepts—an unprecedented realism. In the Old Testament, the novelty of the Bible did not consist merely in abstract notions but in God's unpredictable and in some sense unprecedented activity. This divine activity now takes on dramatic form when, in Jesus Christ, it is God himself who goes in search of the “stray sheep”, a suffering and lost humanity. When Jesus speaks in his parables of the shepherd who goes after the lost sheep, of the woman who looks for the lost coin, of the father who goes to meet and embrace his prodigal son, these are no mere words: they constitute an explanation of his very being and activity. His death on the Cross is the culmination of that turning of God against himself in which he gives himself in order to raise man up and save him. This is love in its most radical form. By contemplating the pierced side of Christ (cf. 19:37), we can understand the starting-point of this Encyclical Letter: “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8). It is there that this truth can be contemplated. It is from there that our definition of love must begin. In this contemplation the Christian discovers the path along which his life and love must move.

13. Jesus gave this act of oblation an enduring presence through his institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper. He anticipated his death and resurrection by giving his disciples, in the bread and wine, his very self, his body and blood as the new manna (cf. Jn 6:31-33). The ancient world had dimly perceived that man's real food—what truly nourishes him as man—is ultimately the Logos, eternal wisdom: this same Logos now truly becomes food for us—as love. The Eucharist draws us into Jesus' act of self-oblation. More than just statically receiving the incarnate Logos, we enter into the very dynamic of his self-giving. The imagery of marriage between God and Israel is now realized in a way previously inconceivable: it had meant standing in God's presence, but now it becomes union with God through sharing in Jesus' self-gift, sharing in his body and blood. The sacramental “mysticism”, grounded in God's condescension towards us, operates at a radically different level and lifts us to far greater heights than anything that any human mystical elevation could ever accomplish.

[Deus Caritas est]

As a pilgrim to the 46th International Eucharistic Congress, I turn my steps first to the ancient Cathedral of Wrocław in order to kneel with faith before the Blessed Sacrament — the "Bread of Life". I do so with deep emotion and heartfelt gratitude to Divine Providence for the gift of this Congress and the fact that it is taking place here, in Wrocław, in Poland — in my homeland.

After the miraculous multiplication of the loaves, Christ says to the crowds who were seeking him: "Truly, truly I say to you, you seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not labour for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of man will give to you" (Jn 6:26-27). How difficult it was for Jesus' hearers to make this passage from the sign to the mystery indicated by that sign, from daily bread to the bread "which endures to eternal life"! Nor is it easy for us, the people of the twentieth century. Eucharistic Congresses are celebrated precisely for this reason, to remind the whole world of this truth: "Do not labour for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life".

Jesus' hearers, continuing the dialogue, rightly ask, "What must we do, to be doing the works of God?" (Jn 6:28). And Christ answers: "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent" (Jn 6:29). It is an exhortation to have faith in the Son of man, in the Giver of the food which does not perish. Without faith in him whom the Father has sent, it is not possible to recognize and accept this Gift which does not pass away. This is the very reason why we are here — here in Wrocław, at the 46th International Eucharistic Congress. We are here in order to profess, together with the whole Church, our faith in Christ the Eucharist, in Christ — the living bread and the bread of life. With Saint Peter we say: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16:16) and again: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68).

2. "Lord, give us this bread always" (Jn 6:34).

The miraculous multiplication of the loaves had not evoked the expected response of faith in those who had been eyewitnesses of that event. They wanted a new sign: "Then what sign do you do, that we may see, and believe? What work do you perform? Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: He gave them bread from heaven to eat'" (Jn 6:30-31). The disciples gathered around Jesus thus expect a sign like the manna which their ancestors had eaten in the desert. But Jesus exhorts them to expect something more than a mere repetition of the miracle of the manna, to expect a different kind of food. Christ says: "It was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven; my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world" (Jn 6:32-33).

Along with physical hunger man has within him another hunger, a more basic hunger, which cannot be satisfied by ordinary food. It is a hunger for life, a hunger for eternity. The sign of the manna was the proclamation of the coming of Christ who was to satisfy man's hunger for eternity by himself becoming the "living bread" which "gives life to the world". And see: those who heard Jesus ask him to fulfil what had been proclaimed by the sign of the manna, perhaps without being conscious of how far their request would go: "Lord, give us this bread always" (Jn 6:34). How eloquent is this request! How generous and how amazing is its fulfilment. "I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst... For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him" (Jn 6:35,55-56). "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day' (Jn 6:54).

What a great dignity has been bestowed on us! The Son of God gives himself to us in the Most Holy Sacrament of his Body and Blood. How infinitely great is God's generosity! He responds to our deepest desires, which are not only desires for earthly bread, but extend to the horizons of life eternal. This is the great mystery of faith!

3. "Rabbi, when did you come here?" (Jn 6:54).

This was the question put to Jesus by those who sought him after the miraculous multiplication of the loaves. We too ask this same question today, in Wroclaw. It is the question asked by everyone taking part in the International Eucharistic Congress. And Christ answers us: I came when your ancestors received Baptism, at the time of Mieszko I and of Boleslas the Brave, when Bishops and priests began to celebrate in this land the "mystery of faith" which brought together all those who hungered for the bread which gives eternal life.

This was how Christ came to Wrocław over a thousand years ago, when the Church was born here and Wrocław became an episcopal see, one of the first in the territories of the Piast. In the course of the centuries Christ came to all the places on the earth from which those taking part in this Eucharistic Congress have come. And from that time on he has continued to be present in the Eucharist, always equally silent, humble and generous. Truly, "having loved those who were his own in the world, he loved them to the end" (Jn 13:1).

Now, on the threshold of the Third Millennium, we wish to give a particular expression to our gratitude. This Eucharistic Congress in Wroclaw has an international dimension. Taking part in it are not only the faithful of Poland, but faithful from throughout the world. Together we all want to express our deep faith in the Eucharist and our fervent gratitude for the Eucharistic food which for almost two thousand years has nourished whole generations of believers in Christ. How inexhaustible and available to all is the treasury of God's love! How enormous is our debt to Christ the Eucharist! We realize this and we cry out with Saint Thomas Aquinas: "Quantum potes, tantum aude: quia maior omni laude, nec laudare sufficis", "Dare all thou canst, thou hast no song, worthy his praises to prolong, so far surpassing powers like thine" (Lauda Sion).

These words express very well the attitude of all taking part in this Eucharistic Congress. In these days we seek to give the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist the honour and glory which he deserves. Let us strive to thank him for his presence, because for nearly two thousand years he has remained in our midst.

"We give you thanks, our Father...
You have graciously given us
spiritual food and drink
and life eternal
through Jesus your servant.
To you be glory for ever!" (cf. Didache).

[John Paul II, homily in Wroclaw 31 May 1997]

After the multiplication of the loaves, the people went in search of Jesus and finally found him near Capernaum. He was well aware of the motive for their great enthusiasm in seeking him and he made this clear to them: “you seek me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves” (Jn 6:26). In fact, those people followed him for the material bread which had placated their hunger the previous day, when Jesus had performed the multiplication of the loaves; they had not understood that that bread, broken for so many, for the multitude, was the expression of the love of Jesus himself. They had given more meaning to that bread than to its donor. Before this spiritual blindness, Jesus emphasizes the necessity of going beyond the gift, to discover, come to know the donor. God himself is both the gift and the giver. Thus from that bread, from that gesture, the people can find the One who gives it, who is God. He invites them to open up to a perspective which is not only that of the daily need to eat, dress, achieve success, build a career. Jesus speaks of another food. He speaks of a food which is incorruptible and which is good to seek and gather. 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 6:22-29)

Not a few seek Jesus not for the amazement of the Person and his Way, but because He guarantees more satiety than others (v.26).

Then we must get out of the superficiality of short thoughts. To the Master, the "correct" relationship already seems a "finished" Love.

Christ's proposal points to other goals; it is not matched by momentary enthusiasm for a sensational event, nor by quiet selfishness.

In the Sign that nourishes the new Way [the Exodus of «little boats» (vv.22-24) that follow Christ] lies a Vocation and a Mission.

Beyond where one assumes.

A Mysticism of the donated Seed opens up the meaning of personal existence - to finally set us off  without guardians (v.22).

The «Son of man» is the person endowed with full humanity, depicting man in the divine condition.

He is always surprisingly on the other side (v.25) to make himself that "I do not know what": ‘Perfume’ of the outgoing Church.

Eros-beyond, which overcomes attachments, habits, consolidated equilibriums.

The Lord does not identify spiritual well-being with the extinguishing of the soul’s flame, in the manias even of activism.

Therefore, the required Work is not at all about fulfilling the many prescriptions.

It does not resemble the usual staging, set-up and composition works [the «doing»: v.28], for it is rather singular Action of God [Subject] in us.

Observances must be tediously piled on top of each other.

The divine Initiative that is accomplished in our every gesture is instead a precious Virtue, an unexpected Energy.

A new opportunity to meet ourselves, our brothers, another shore - and to detach ourselves from exteriority.

Jesus reveals himself in the sign of the breaking of Bread.

«Food that endures for the Life of the Eternal» (v. 27), that is, that flows into an experience that already here and now possesses the indestructible quality of God's own intimacy.

In order to receive the well-chopped Food that sustains and becomes a source of complete life in us, the "work" to be done does not belong to the kind that we can ‘prepare’ - not even according to law and devotions.

It can only be a response to the work that the Father himself carries out within each of us; even if it does not immediately appear brilliant and finalized.

And here is the reversal guaranteed by the adventure of Faith:

Religious submission is swept away by Acceptance, which has a far less mortifying (and reductionist) sense; conversely, respectful of attempts. And creative.

The relationship with God changes.

It becomes one of pure welcoming; yet inventive, by Name: unrepeatable and personal.

No more of passive renunciation, reproach, purification, obedience [“yes-sir” appearances].

The founding Eros does not scold us: it is solely Gift. For a healthy Reciprocity, respectful of our character and ascendant.

In this way, the Attraction will not be extinguished. It wants its peaks every day; it is not enough for it to become normal symbiosis, then habit.

Rather, it dreams of a broad Path.

The rest unfortunately remains ineffective or ambiguous sequels; leading the soul always at war with itself and others.

Binary that here and there can only manifest blind, one-sided, forced caricatures of the Eternal’s Image - despite the claims of excellence.

Mechanisms that hurt.

[Monday 3rd wk. in Easter, April 20, 2026]