Lk 24:13-35 (13-48)

 

The disciples question, they are confused; they bounce anxieties and accusations off each other, disillusioned and frustrated - but what seems to concern them most is not so much the mocking death of the Master, but (paradoxically) his very divine condition.

What they fear is precisely the crumbling of their hopes for glory.

They are simply afraid of not feeling supported by someone who has achieved notoriety, in order to obtain the longed-for dominance.

What disappoints them is precisely that Jesus could be the Risen One: that is, the one who has grasped and incorporated into himself taken up by the Father into his own full Life because he recognised himself in the humble Son.

Enthroned at the right hand of the heavenly throne, because he is true, and a servant of others.

Such apostles have their eyes fixed on dreams of principality, wealth, and supremacy.

On this basis, it is impossible to recognise the Presence of Christ - who wants us to stay in the present and see the future.

Just as before, they are heading to Emmaus, a place of ancient nationalist military victories.

The very name Cleopas was an abbreviation of Cleopas, which means 'of the illustrious, prestigious father'.

The disciples are still filled with the ambition for success: this is their god.

It is still triumph - not authenticity and self-sacrifice to the point of death - that would change the world.

For these followers, the son of the carpenter Galileo was still the Nazarene - which meant subversive, rebellious: one of the many messiahs who were supposed to take revenge on Roman oppression and seize power.

Quietly, sick with ambition, they return to considering as their "authority" (v. 20) the very bandits disguised as men of God who had killed the Master.

So Jesus must once again take our place and insist on interpreting the Scriptures correctly.

From them it emerges that the concrete good of real, multifaceted women and men, who even seem contradictory, is a non-negotiable principle.

The Greek text of Luke says that Jesus 'does hermeneutics' (v. 27).

In short: the passages of the Holy Scriptures, from Moses to the Prophets and beyond, should not be recounted and perceived by ear, but interpreted.

They are teachings, not stories or narratives of anecdotes.

 

We too, in love with our ideas, find it difficult to engage in the work of digging up stories of failure in order to extract pearls of wisdom from them.

But conflicts are valuable mirrors of internal struggles.

The Word of God, untamed by clichés, helps us to perceive events and the world, even that of the soul, in the authenticity of providential signs.

They are there for a journey of evolution, where some of the most precious surprises await us.

This is not in order to become cunning or strong, nor even good in the usual sense.

Even negative events and emotions happen in order to develop the ability to look within and respond to the inner call.

Vocation-character, in bad times: wonders for great joy, like a sun inside, fiery and luminous (without judgement).

A protagonist who brings out unexpected qualities; a worker who tills the soil and waits.

By changing our way of perceiving, the new energy of the Word takes our considerations to a different dimension.

Confusions are no longer looked at to be resolved, but to understand their meaning.

We learn to intuit that our disturbances, sufferings and problems are often like clothes - even coats that we willingly do not discard.

Throw away these external rags, and we will intuit in the same disappointments a Presence that has come to visit us.

An alternative consciousness that wants to live and flow within us.

It will bring a Gift that brings another Relationship, to drive away banality and its thousand forms of slavery.

Over time, it will have the strength to settle within us.

And when personal anxieties, conditioned intentions and conformist expectations lead us into a territory where everything enters into another game, into a completely different reality that Voice will increasingly become the fertiliser and substrate of our ability to correspond, to grow and to depart; to detach ourselves from common ideas and find new positions.

A new kingdom, another founding memory; unprecedented calls, different hopes, convictions, trusts.

 

Little by little, we realise: it is in the same sense as the dramatic story of the authentic Son that our life as saved people passes.

Thus, instead of always looking back or only forward, we begin to perceive the prophetic; and we bring it to consciousness.

While the disciples of the glorious 'messiah' continue to be directed to the old 'village' - a place of narrow-mindedness, misunderstanding, even hostility to God's Call - the Risen One goes further.

Then he enters, but not into the village [the common village of dogmas, of even glossy ways, or of traditions, of conformism] because he is already Present. And in any case, he is not a Shepherd who loses his flock.

In filigree, we grasp the rhythm of our worship: entrance, homily, Eucharistic liturgy, final choir, missionary announcement... whose essential meaning is the proposal: 'to break life'.

It is sharing that makes the being of Jesus perceptible - in the Church that becomes wisdom and fraternal nourishment for the completeness of all.

 

'This is my Body' means 'This is Me'.

God expresses himself in a gesture, the breaking of bread - not in a sacred object.

It alludes to the Community that transcends differences and comes together to become shared Food for the benefit of others.

Such is the essential, truly sacred Call.

No preventive sterilisation: only the all-encompassing experience makes the divine Presence perceptible.

'He made himself invisible' because the Risen One has a life that is not subject to the banal perception of the ordinary senses.

But He comes to the Church, which freely offers itself for the life of the voiceless, the distant, the different; not for good manners and bad habits.

'Take and eat': make my story your own, the choice of conviviality of differences and contrasting sides. These convey dignity to any path.

 

The news is too good: the barley harvest is abandoned [end of the first ten days of April: in Palestine it was the right time to start harvesting] and they set off immediately to proclaim the Good News.

The affairs of the earth are put aside, so that they are not the only ones to go well - becoming explicit heralds, advocates and sustenance for those who seek life.

 

 

Broken: different Perfection

 

After the first persecutions (64), the bloody civil war in Rome (68-69) and the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem (70), the rebels of the empire tended to diminish - along with the second generation of Christians, direct witnesses of the Apostolic teaching.

In this completely new reality, threatened by the danger of routine, perhaps more than a dozen years after the fall of Masada (73), Luke wrote a Gospel for Hellenistic converts - but educated in the ideal of the Greek man.

His aim was to stem the tide of defections, encourage new believers, and allow those who were culturally distant to have a living experience of the Lord.

The Risen One no longer has a life subject to the senses, because it is full. Now it is the community that manifests his presence [or - unfortunately - his uselessness and absence].

Conditioned by a false view instilled by bad teachers and pagan values, the disciples still felt bewildered in the face of failure.

The expectations of religion, philosophies, and life in the empire made them gloomy and lost during the trials of faith.

Everyone was waiting for the divine man: a ruler, a landowner, revered, avenging, titled and super-successful. Capable of leading his people to the same fortune.

Luke overturns the banal perspective, because within each of us there is an innate wisdom, sometimes suffocated by external ideas, but different.

Only a different understanding of the sacred Scriptures, which still resonate with critical prophecy, warms the heart and makes everyone recognisable in Christ.

Wisdom that goes hand in hand with the quality of life experienced in a multifaceted and yet destitute fraternity, but one that abandons no one.

In the authentic church, in fact, the synergy of differences or different and shadowed sides configures a New Covenant; it opens the eyes of all, intensely manifesting the Son.

And the Risen One does not cling to the newcomers in a paternalistic way (vv. 28.31) but calls with confidence to reinterpret him in love, without boundaries and identified roles.

His Presence in spirit and actions allows anyone a calibre of life that is minted and broken without prior conditions of completeness.

Hence the return (v. 33) and the personal proclamation (v. 35), instead of indifference or flight.

 

The passage from Luke is one of the most profound testimonies of Jesus' Easter.

The tragedy of the Cross still frightens us, as does failure.

But we do not encounter the Lord frankly as an avenger, or in the fervour of a 'victorious' holy war.

Christ is not a leader. He is a liberator, yes, but not of an idea or of a single chosen people.

In short, the new order he dreamed of will not be artificial, procedural, foreign; nor will it be achieved through military triumph: he would disown it.

We encounter the Risen One outside the tomb.

We encounter Jesus on a journey, and in the authentic sense of the 'living scriptures'; in the breaking of bread that illuminates coexistence and the richer meaning of ecclesial life.

We see personally the Son exalted, building the new community of disciples who are not lost in history - indeed, they flourish because of setbacks.

Ensuring that our brothers and sisters can also encounter Easter.

In their incessant beginning, there is a discovery and something special, abnormal, disruptive; which lays continuous foundations.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

When have you experienced a Jesus who gently approaches and takes your pace? Is the Cross a catastrophe for you?

Which side of your personality captures that of the Eucharistic Christ and in between? Perhaps something one-sided, or obvious?

What distracts you from the blindness of the present Life?

 

 

It does not create a hierarchy: in the middle and wounded, or a ghost

(Lk 24:35-48)

 

We do not recognise a person by their hands and feet (v. 39).

The Risen One has a life that escapes the perception of the senses, yet the Resurrection does not annul the person, but rather expands them.

The identity and being that distinguishes him is of another nature, but the heart is the same, characterising. Love to the end: action [hands] and journey [feet] without reserve, which non-faith marginalises, humiliates, kills.

Christ cannot be understood outside the experience of sharing, witness, Mission - the point of the text - which extends to all men.

Evangelisation starting from direct heralds and enthusiastic town criers. Centred on the core of the Proclamation, which moves everything and gives access (vv.35-).

Finally, thanks to the intelligence of the Scriptures, which brings us out of clichés and vague interpretative automatisms.

In specific listening and in forgiveness that makes us participants; in commitment that risks, walks, and speaks.

 

The Creator's human project took on a pedagogical configuration in the Law. It was taken up, actualised, and purified by the prophets, and sung in the psalms (v. 44) .

But the conversion proposed by Christ is not a return to religiosity, but 'a change [of mind] in remission' (v. 47).

The change of convictions and mentality is 'for the forgiveness of sins': that is, in overcoming the sense of inadequacy preached by the manipulative religious centre.

Its formal and empty directives prevent women and men from corresponding to their roots, character, vocation - to joy, to the fullness of personal fulfilment, to the great Desire that pulsates within each one.

 

In Jesus, the history of salvation takes on and redeems the totality of humanity: it becomes the privileged place of the true seal of the eternal Covenant between the Father and his children. Only in Him does our life go in the right direction.

This awareness was at the heart of all the early liturgical signs, which in words and gestures expressed the attitude of gratuitousness and welcome that animated belief.

In this way, even the multifaceted encounter; and the risk of the mission of Peace-Shalôm (v. 36): the presence of the Messiah himself, actualised in the Spirit.

 

The Lord's Passover gave meaning to the people's past and was the foundation of freedom in love, in coexistence - for personal and ecclesial work.

The beginning of new configurations. 'Done' par excellence [in this sense, Luke in vv. 41-43 insists on the reality of the resurrection].

Here is the beginning, source and culmination of authentic history - in the very figure of the Eucharist as the Table of the 'Fish' [acrostic, in Greek, of the divine condition of the Son of Man].

In short, we are eyewitnesses, not gullible or victims of collective hallucinations.

In the Risen One, we do not see projections of anxieties and frustrations converging; we do not seek him for compensation.

 

In the early years after the Master's death, some disciples effectively defended themselves against sceptics by recounting apparitions.

The most convincing and genuine manifestation of the Living One was in fact the wisdom and quality of life expressed by the early communities.

Those who 'see and touch' are those disciples who become so involved that their soul movements, their exodus to the peripheries, and their passionate gestures finally coincide with the Master's own wounds of love: "Touch me and see" (v. 39).

This points to an event and story of admirable light for all, which becomes extended history, from brother to brother.

A weighty testimony of the divine (v. 48) - in the Yes of being, even if affected or destroyed by the archaic sacred society of the outside world.

 

In the early days, believers - here and there - managed to do so thanks to the help of fraternities in which the Person of the authentic Messiah manifested himself persuasively, because he was 'in the midst' (v. 36).

Not 'above' or 'in front' - nor with ethics and dogmas.

Therefore, in the assemblies, there should never have been anyone (for life) who claimed to represent Him and had a title and a prominent position, while others were destined to be in the background or subordinate (equally permanent).

Everyone should have been equidistant from God: no one privileged, no one installed.

No one leading the ranks - or closer to the Lord, while others were far away.

 

The Lord revealed Himself as Living in conviviality - the key word, the pinnacle of the entire Bible.

Sharing also in the summary, which found the ways of intimacy and sensitive, personal confidence: 'They gave him a portion' (v. 42).

The concrete and global perspective of the Cross as the source of Life was a transmutation of the sense of haughty and distant 'glory'.

Whether naturally talented or not, those who represented the Risen One were always within reach: no chosen ones - no one sent to the rear.

Even the first community tasks reflected the character of a Jesus who was shareable, spontaneous, accessible to anyone - at the centre and in a position of reciprocity.

 

No one born perfect, predestined, at the top.

For this reason, the Announcement had to begin in the Holy City (v. 47), configured to the opposite of life - compromised, inert, secretive; pyramidal, co-opted, and murderer of prophets.

That of the Eternal City... remained the first of the 'pagan peoples' [v. 47 Greek text] to be evangelised!

Only a strong identity of compelling Faith, Hope Elsewhere and real Communion could convert it from sin and establish a code for understanding the Scriptures.

And not make Christ a ghost (v. 37).

 

In the early communities, listening to the personal and common inner world was particularly emphasised, because the direction proposed by the Master seemed completely counterintuitive.

Despite the chaos of external certainties, the transition from fear to Freedom came from a tolerant perception - starting from visceral experiences.

It was precisely the bottlenecks that accentuated change and internalisation, and tore the disciples away from their habit of creating conformist harmonies.

People then relied more willingly on the paths of the soul. Thus encountering one's own deep nature - a new axis of life, starting from the roots.

The search for a new compass for one's own paths, the loss of predictable references, and social discomfort brought one into contact with oneself and others in an authentic way.

Feeling anxiety, discomfort, and wounds allowed them to recognise their Calling - even though the external way in which they saw and faced normal or spiritual existence suited them.

Having to move away from their habits, they no longer shied away from the precious revelation: the primordial and humanising intimacy deposited in the fraternal communion of the new crucified Way.

Educated by the paradox of hardship, the uncertain apostles gradually became seekers of a trace, of a more pertinent route; pilgrims of unexpected codes.

 

'Witnesses' (v. 48): fathers and mothers of a new humanity.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

How do you experience the identity of the Crucified and Risen One? And his Glory? What makes your heart burn, and Who do you radiate?

Are you someone who puts himself at the head of the group? Or, 'with Jesus in the midst', do you contribute to the happiness of all?

 

 

Real Presence

Transformed, he does not erase the signs of the crucifixion

 

Today [...] we encounter – in the Gospel according to Luke – the risen Jesus who appears in the midst of his disciples (cf. Lk 24:36), who, incredulous and afraid, think they are seeing a ghost (cf. Lk 24:37). Romano Guardini writes: "The Lord is changed. He no longer lives as before. His existence... is not comprehensible. Yet it is corporeal, it encompasses... his entire life, his destiny, his passion and his death. Everything is reality. It may be changed, but it is still tangible reality" (Il Signore. Meditazioni sulla persona e la vita di N.S. Gesù Cristo [The Lord: Meditations on the Person and Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ], Milan 1949, 433). Since the resurrection does not erase the signs of the crucifixion, Jesus shows the Apostles his hands and feet. And to convince them, he even asks for something to eat. So the disciples "offered him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in front of them" (Lk 24:42-43). St Gregory the Great comments that "the fish broiled on the fire signifies nothing other than the passion of Jesus, Mediator between God and men. For he deigned to hide himself in the waters of the human race, accepted to be caught in the snare of our death, and was as if placed in the fire because of the sufferings he endured at the time of his passion" (Hom. in Evang. XXIV, 5: CCL 141, Turnhout 1999, 201).

Thanks to these very realistic signs, the disciples overcome their initial doubt and open themselves to the gift of faith; and this faith allows them to understand the things written about Christ 'in the Law of Moses, in the Prophets and in the Psalms' (Lk 24:44). We read, in fact, that Jesus 'opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and said to them, " Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, for you are witnesses of these things' (Lk 24:45-48). The Saviour assures us of his real presence among us, through the Word and the Eucharist. Just as the disciples of Emmaus recognised Jesus in the breaking of bread (cf. Lk 24:35), so too do we encounter the Lord in the Eucharistic celebration. In this regard, St Thomas Aquinas explains that "it is necessary to recognise, according to Catholic faith, that the whole Christ is present in this Sacrament... because the divinity never left the body that he assumed" (S.Th. III, q. 76, a. 1).

[Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli, 22 April 2012]

 

As with a living

 

1. May the light of your face shine upon us, Lord! (cf. Ps 4:7)

With these words, the Church prays in today's liturgy. She asks for divine light. She asks for the gift of knowing the Truth. She asks for faith.

Faith is the knowledge of the Truth, which comes from the testimony of God himself.

At the heart of our faith is the resurrection of Christ, through which God himself bore witness to the Crucified One. The testimony of the Living God confirmed in the resurrection the truth of the Gospel that Jesus of Nazareth proclaimed. It confirmed the truth of all his works and all his words. It confirmed the truth of his mission. The resurrection gave the definitive and most complete expression of that messianic power that was in Jesus Christ. Truly, he is the one sent by God. And divine is the word that comes from his lips.

When, today, on the third Sunday of Easter, we invoke: "Let the light of your face shine upon us, Lord" (cf. Ps 4:7), we ask that through the resurrection of Christ our faith may be renewed, illuminating the paths of our lives and directing them towards the Living God.

2. At the same time, today's Sunday liturgy shows us how this faith was built – and continues to be built – which, being a true gift from God, has at the same time its human dimension and form.

The resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the main source of this light, from which the knowledge of the Truth revealed by God develops in us. The knowledge and acceptance of it as divine truth.

To form the human dimension of faith, Christ himself chose witnesses to the resurrection from among men. These witnesses were to become those who, from the beginning, were bound to him as disciples, among whom he alone chose the Twelve, making them his apostles.

Jesus of Nazareth also appeared alive after his resurrection to them, who were witnesses of his death on the cross. He spoke with them and in various ways convinced them of his identity, of the reality of his human body.

"Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet: it is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see I have" (Lk 24:38-39).

He spoke to them in this way when "they were amazed and frightened, thinking they were seeing a ghost" (Lk 24:37).

"But because of their great joy and amazement, they still did not believe it and were astonished. He said to them, 'Do you have anything here to eat?' They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in front of them" (Lk 24:41-43).

Thus was formed the group of witnesses to the resurrection. They were the men who personally knew Christ, heard his words, saw his works, experienced his death on the cross and, afterwards, saw him alive and conversed with him as with a living person after the resurrection.

3. When these men, the apostles and disciples of the Lord, after receiving the Holy Spirit, began to speak publicly about Christ, when they began to proclaim him to men (first in Jerusalem), they first of all referred to the commonly known facts.

'You handed him over and denied him before Pilate, when he had decided to release him,' Peter said to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, 'but you denied the Holy and Righteous One and asked for a murderer to be granted to you' (i.e. Barabbas)! (Acts 3:13-14).

From the events surrounding Christ's death, the speaker moves on to the Resurrection: "... you killed the author of life. But God raised him from the dead, and we are witnesses to this" (Acts 3:15).

Peter speaks alone, but at the same time he speaks on behalf of the entire apostolic college: "we are witnesses" (Acts 3:15). And he adds: "Now, brothers, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders" (Acts 3:17).

4. From the description of events, from the testimony of the Resurrection, the apostle moves on to prophetic exegesis.

Christ himself had prepared his disciples for this exegesis of death and Resurrection.

We have proof of this in the encounter described in today's Gospel (according to Luke). The Risen One says to his disciples: "These are the words I spoke to you while I was still with you: everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled" (Lk 24:44).

". And he said, 'Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things' (Lk 24:46-48).

And the evangelist adds: “Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures” (Lk 24:45).

From Peter’s speech in the Acts of the Apostles, which we read in today’s liturgy, we can see how effective this “opening of their minds” was.

After presenting the events connected with the death and resurrection of Christ, Peter continues: “But God has thus fulfilled what he had foretold through the mouth of all the prophets, that his Christ would die. Repent, then, and change your ways, so that your sins may be blotted out...” (Acts 3:18-20).

In these words of the apostle, we find a clear echo of Christ's words: of the enlightenment that the disciples experienced in their encounter with the Risen Lord.

Thus, the faith of the first generation of confessors of Christ, the generation of the apostles' disciples, was built up. It sprang directly from the testimony of eyewitnesses of the Cross and the Resurrection.

5. What does it mean to be a Christian?

It means continuing to accept the testimony of the Apostles, the eyewitnesses. It means believing with the same faith that was born in them from the works and words of the Risen Lord.

The Apostle John writes (this is the second reading of today's liturgy): 'By this we know that we have known him (that is, Christ) if we keep his commandments. Whoever says, 'I know him,' but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him; but whoever keeps his word, in him the love of God is truly perfect" (1 Jn 2:3-5).

The apostle speaks of living faith. Faith is alive through the works that are in accordance with it. These are the works of charity. Faith is alive through the love of God. Love is expressed in the observance of the commandments. There can be no contradiction between knowledge ("I know him") and the action of a confessor of Christ. Only those who complete their faith with works remain in the truth.

Thus, the apostle John addresses the recipients of his first letter with the affectionate word 'little children' and invites them 'not to sin' (cf. 1 Jn 2:1). At the same time, however, he writes: 'But if anyone has sinned, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world" (1 Jn 2:1f).

John, apostle and evangelist, proclaims in the words of his letter, written towards the end of the first century, the same truth that Peter proclaimed shortly after the Lord's ascension. This is the truth about conversion and the forgiveness of sins through the power of Christ's death and resurrection.

6. What does it mean to be a Christian?

To be a Christian – today as then, in the first generation of confessors of Christ – means to continue to accept the testimony of the apostles, eyewitnesses. It means believing with the same faith that was born in them from the works and words of Christ, confirmed by his death and resurrection.

We too, belonging to the present generation of confessors of Christ, must ask to have the same experience as the two disciples of Emmaus: "Lord Jesus, make us understand the Scriptures; may our hearts burn within us when you speak to us" (cf. Lk 24:32).

May our hearts burn within us! For faith cannot be merely a cold calculation of the intellect. It must be enlivened by love. It lives through works in which the truth revealed by God is expressed as the inner truth of man.

Then we too – even if we have not been eyewitnesses of the works and words, of the death and resurrection – inherit the testimony of the Apostles. And we ourselves also become witnesses of Christ.

To be a Christian is also to be a witness of Christ.

7. Then faith – living faith – is formed as a dialogue between the Living God and living man; we find some expressions of this dialogue in today's liturgical psalm: 'When I call upon you, answer me, O God, my righteousness: you have delivered me from distress; have mercy on me, hear my prayer' (Ps 4:2). '... The Lord hears me when I call to him. / Tremble and do not sin; / reflect on your bed and be still. / Offer sacrifices of righteousness / and trust in the Lord. / Many say, 'Who will show us any good?' / Let the light of your face shine upon us, O Lord. / You have put more joy in my heart / than when their grain and wine abound. / I lie down in peace and sleep comes at once: / you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety" (Ps 4:4-9).

And the psalmist himself adds: "Know that the Lord does wonders for his faithful ones" (Ps 4:4).

[Pope John Paul II, homily to Sts. Marcellinus and Peter, 25 April 1982]

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

The Gospel of this Sunday - the Third of Easter - is the famous account of the disciples of Emmaus (cf. Lk 24: 13-35). It tells the tale of two followers of Christ who, on the day after the Sabbath or the third day after his death, were leaving Jerusalem sad and dejected, bound for a village that was not far off called, precisely, Emmaus. They were joined on their way by the Risen Jesus but did not recognize him. Realizing that they were downhearted, he explained, drawing on the Scriptures, that the Messiah had to suffer and die in order to enter into his glory. Then entering the house with them, he sat down to eat, blessed the bread and broke it; and at that instant they recognized him but he vanished from their sight, leaving them marvelling before that broken bread, a new sign of his presence. And they both immediately headed back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples of the event. 

The locality of Emmaus has not been identified with certainty. There are various hypotheses and this one is not without an evocativeness of its own for it allows us to think that Emmaus actually represents every place: the road that leads there is the road every Christian, every person, takes. The Risen Jesus makes himself our travelling companion as we go on our way, to rekindle the warmth of faith and hope in our hearts and to break the bread of eternal life. In the disciples' conversation with the unknown wayfarer the words the evangelist Luke puts in the mouth of one of them are striking: "We had hoped..." (Lk 24: 21). This verb in the past tense tells all: we believed, we followed, we hoped..., but now everything is over. Even Jesus of Nazareth, who had shown himself in his words and actions to be a powerful prophet, has failed, and we are left disappointed. This drama of the disciples of Emmaus appears like a reflection of the situation of many Christians of our time: it seems that the hope of faith has failed. Faith itself enters a crisis because of negative experiences that make us feel abandoned and betrayed even by the Lord. But this road to Emmaus on which we walk can become the way of a purification and maturation of our belief in God. Also today we can enter into dialogue with Jesus, listening to his Word. Today too he breaks bread for us and gives himself as our Bread. And so the meeting with the Risen Christ that is possible even today gives us a deeper and more authentic faith tempered, so to speak, by the fire of the Paschal Event; a faith that is robust because it is nourished not by human ideas but by the Word of God and by his Real Presence in the Eucharist. 

This marvellous Gospel text already contains the structure of Holy Mass: in the first part, listening to the Word through the Sacred Scriptures; in the second part, the Eucharistic liturgy and communion with Christ present in the Sacrament of his Body and his Blood. In nourishing herself at this two-fold table, the Church is constantly built up and renewed from day to day in faith, hope and charity. Through the intercession of Mary Most Holy, let us pray that in reliving the experience of the disciples of Emmaus every Christian and every community may rediscover the grace of the transforming encounter with the Risen Lord.

[Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli, 6 April 2008]

2. Dear brothers and sisters! We too, at this hour, pray to the Lord: “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is drawing to a close” (Lk 24:29). May this invitation that the disciples of Emmaus address to the Lord guide our festive liturgy today; indeed, the Gospel for this Third Sunday of Easter leads us along the road to Emmaus. This place holds great significance within the context of the Easter events: it is a place of encounter with Christ, a place of the appearance of the Risen Lord.

In the interpretation of the Old Testament peoples, the Easter feast recalls the “passage” of the Lord, the exodus of the Israelites from the “house of bondage” in Egypt on their way to the Promised Land. God himself guides, liberates and saves his people. At the beginning of this exodus there was the sign of the lamb: its blood would mark the houses of the Israelites and save their inhabitants from the punishment of death; its flesh sustained the Israelites at the Last Supper before their departure.

Inspired by this faith of their people, the two disciples of Emmaus had taken part in the Jewish Passover feast in Jerusalem, and had also witnessed the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. When, on their way back, the Lord appeared to them without their recognising him immediately, he explained to them how the Passover feast of the New Covenant had been foretold in the events of the Old Testament; specifically, in the exodus from slavery to freedom. This exodus is now fulfilled in the passage from death to life, from sin to friendship with God. And this takes place once again with the help of a lamb: the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, Jesus Christ, our Redeemer. Moses and the prophets, indeed the ‘whole of Scripture’, already speak of him and his destiny. This is why the risen Lord could rightly ask: “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” (Lk 24:25ff.).

3. Indeed, many statements in the Old Testament foretell the events of the Last Supper and Golgotha. These prophecies, however, would not have been fulfilled if the events of Easter had not taken place at the time and in the manner predetermined by God in Jerusalem. And despite all this, Jesus’ disciples did not immediately recognise the true meaning and deepest truth of this dramatic and moving event, which they experienced with their Master during the Jewish Passover. They found it difficult to ‘believe the words of the prophets’ (Lk 24:25ff.). This truth was so hard for them to recognise, as they were accustomed to a different understanding of the Holy Scriptures. Why should the Messiah have to suffer, be condemned and die on the cross, be despised and mocked as an outcast? Thus, at first, they are as if blinded, discouraged and sad, as if paralysed.

For human beings, it is and will always remain incomprehensible why the path to salvation must pass through suffering. This is why the encounter on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus is so significant; not only in relation to the events of Easter at that time, but forever, for all time – including for us. On this road, the disciples learnt from Jesus a new way of reading the Holy Scriptures and of discovering in them a prophetic testimony about him, a foretelling of him, of his message and of his mission of salvation. Through this teaching, the disciples are instructed by the Lord himself to become his witnesses. Thus Peter, in today’s liturgy, bears witness to the Lord’s resurrection from this new, deeper understanding of the Easter event before the people. In this light of Christ, the Risen One, he also understands and proclaims David’s psalm: “For you will not abandon my soul to the underworld” (Acts 2:27).

When Jesus reveals to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus the true meaning of Sacred Scripture, the apostles in Jerusalem already know that this psalm has been fulfilled in reality: “Truly the Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon” (Lk 24:26).

4. The encounter on the road to Emmaus is of great importance also because, in this way, Jesus emphasised to his disciples, after his death on the cross, that he remains with them. He is with them despite, or precisely because of, Good Friday and the Passion, and he will remain forever with his Church according to his promise: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (Jn 14:18).

Christ is not merely the One who was, but far more the One who is. He was present on the road to Emmaus, and he is also present on all the roads of the world, along which his disciples walk, through the generations and the centuries.

5. Dear brothers and sisters! From the encounter with the Risen Lord on the road to Emmaus, new light dawned for the two disciples on the Holy Scriptures and on the events of Calvary; new light dawned in the darkness of their own lives. Light also dawns on the history and destinies of humanity and the Church, and therefore also on the Church of Augsburg. Christ showed how the Messiah ‘had’ to suffer in order to fulfil his saving mission. Is it not true that it is precisely in this light that we are able, at times, to see and understand the darkness and suffering that Christ’s disciples and the Church have faced on their journey through history? Through this, we are often able to recognise, in trials and sufferings, the good and caring hand of God, who through the experience of the cross leads us to salvation and resurrection.

[Pope John Paul II, homily in Augsburg, 3 May 1987]

The Gospel from this Sunday, which is the Third Sunday of Easter, is that of the disciples of Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:13-35). They were two of Jesus’ disciples who, after his death and the Sabbath was past, leave Jerusalem and return, sad and dejected, to their village which was named Emmaus. Along the way the Risen Jesus draws near to them, but they do not recognize him. Seeing them so sad, he first helps them to understand that the Passion and death of the Messiah were foreseen in the plan of God and announced in the Sacred Scriptures: and thus he rekindled a fire of hope in their hearts. 

At that point, the two disciples experienced an extraordinary attraction to the mysterious man, and they invited him to stay with them that evening. Jesus accepted and went into the house with them. When, at table, he blessed the bread and broke it, they recognized him, but he vanished out of their sight, leaving them full of wonder. After being enlightened by the Word, they had recognized the Risen Jesus in the breaking of the bread, a new sign of his presence. And immediately they felt the need to go back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples about their experience, that they had met the living Jesus and recognized him in the act of the breaking of the bread.

The road to Emmaus thus becomes a symbol of our journey of faith: the Scriptures and the Eucharist are the indispensable elements for encountering the Lord. We too often go to Sunday Mass with our worries, difficulties and disappointments.... Life sometimes wounds us and we go away feeling sad, towards our “Emmaus”, turning our backs on God’s plan. We distance ourselves from God. But the Liturgy of the Word welcomes us: Jesus explains the Scriptures to us and rekindles in our hearts the warmth of faith and hope, and in Communion he gives us strength. The Word of God, the Eucharist. Read a passage of the Gospel every day. Remember it well: read a passage from the Gospel every day, and on Sundays go to Communion, to receive Jesus. This is what happened to the disciples of Emmaus: they received the Word; they shared the breaking of bread and from feeling sad and defeated they became joyful. Dear brothers and sisters, the Word of God and the Eucharist fill us with joy always. Remember it well! When you are sad, take up the Word of God. When you are down, take up the Word of God and go to Sunday Mass and receive Communion, to participate in the mystery of Jesus. The Word of God, the Eucharist: they fill us with joy.

Through the intercession of Most Holy Mary, let us pray that every Christian, in reliving the experience of the disciples of Emmaus, especially at Sunday Mass, may rediscover the grace of the transforming encounter with the Lord, with the Risen Lord, who is with us always. There is always a Word of God that gives us guidance after we slip; and through our weariness and disappointments there is always a Bread that is broken that keeps us going on the journey.

[Pope Francis, Regina Coeli, 4 May 2014]

2nd Easter Sunday or Divine Mercy Sunday  [12 April 2026]

 

*First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:42–47)

Here is a glimpse of the very first Christian community, as Saint Luke loves to portray it in the Acts of the Apostles. On several occasions—four, in fact—he sketches, in just a few lines, a portrait of this kind; one might almost call them candid family snapshots. Taken together, these scenes paint a picture that seems almost idyllic of the lives of the early Christians: devoted to the apostles’ teaching and to prayer, they live in praise of the Lord and share everything in common, performing numerous healings along their path and continually welcoming new members… This does not prevent Luke from recounting, elsewhere, some very real difficulties faced by these same communities… Ananias and Sapphira, for example, who struggled to live out the sharing of goods to the full; and, even more seriously, the difficulties of coexistence between Christians of Jewish origin and Christians of pagan origin… One might then ask what message Luke wishes to convey to us by painting such beautiful, almost unreal portraits. This brings to mind the family photos from festive occasions that adorn the walls of our homes, the photo albums or the collages we love to look at. Clearly, the best images have been chosen; looking at them, we become aware of the beauty of our families and the joy of certain special days. For Saint Luke, this is certainly the case, but it is also much more: it is proof that the messianic times have arrived. The apostles became capable of living as brothers thanks to the gift of the Spirit. And this is all that the Spirit enables us to do: he who continues his work in the world and brings every sanctification to fulfilment (according to the splendid expression of the Eucharistic Prayer). This is the sign of the Spirit poured out upon the world by the Messiah: it is precisely what the prophets had promised. Brotherhood, peace, justice, and the abolition of evil are the values of the Kingdom of God that the Messiah was to establish, and of which the early Christians repeatedly set an example. This is the proof that Jesus is truly the long-awaited Messiah, the proof that he has poured out the Spirit of God upon the world. Then we understand the expression: “A sense of awe came over everyone”: it is wonder at the work of God. Luke tells us: see, my brothers and sisters, the first signs of the Kingdom are already here; this is what the Holy Spirit enables us to experience in our families, in our parishes and in our communities when we allow ourselves to be guided by him in the light of Easter. From Christ’s Resurrection a new humanity was born, one that grows slowly around and in the image of the Son of God. St Paul would say: look, we have truly risen! That is to say: we are truly living a new life; the old man (our former way of behaving) is dead. Luke, a converted pagan, marvels at the irresistible spread of the Gospel: ‘Every day the Lord added to the community those who were being saved.’ I note, in passing, that it is the Lord who brings new members into the community! What is asked of us? Perhaps, quite simply, to be true Christian communities, worthy of the name. For it is through its very concrete life that the community bears witness to the Resurrection of Christ: a life made up of sharing the Word and the bread, of prayer, of sharing all goods, all in joy! It is truly a world turned upside down! In particular, personal self-emptying and the sharing of all goods: this is something unachievable for ordinary people… unless they are indwelt by the Spirit of God, the one whom Christ himself has given them. Jesus had said: ‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another. This is what will show the whole world that Jesus is alive; and this is what judges once and for all our quarrels and slander, our intolerance and divisions, our refusal to share. Naturally, we are not forbidden to draw from these beautiful portraits the criteria for assessing the quality of our communities (families, groups, Christian communities). It is a bit as if Luke were saying to us: let those who have ears to hear, hear! Because, after all, what we have heard is indeed a programme for Christian life; if I count correctly, there are four points: listening to the apostles’ teaching, living in fraternal communion (even to the point of sharing possessions), breaking bread and taking part in prayers. To conclude, it seems to me that the great Good News of this text is this: this new way of behaving, inspired by the Holy Spirit, is possible! Just as photos from festive occasions remind us of the possibilities for love within our families. But this may also prompt us to ask some questions: Luke notes that they were ‘persevering together’ in the temple and faithful in breaking bread in their homes with joy and simplicity of heart. Today we would say: they lived the Eucharist. This means at least three things: first of all, Sunday Mass is much more than an obligation; it is a vital necessity: the practice of the Eucharist is indispensable for each of us in the life of faith. Furthermore, and even more seriously, every time one of us does not take part in the Eucharist, it is the community itself that is deprived of one of its members. Finally, the third aspect: a community is severely disadvantaged when deprived of this regular nourishment; this clearly highlights the problem faced by so many Christian communities without a priest, sometimes for a very long time, whilst some parishes in our regions offer a wide choice of Mass times to meet all needs. We cannot help but admire the dynamism of the faith of those who know how to keep their communities alive despite the absence of a priest.

 

*Responsorial Psalm (117/118)  

 We have already sung this Psalm 117/118 during the Easter Vigil and on Easter Day itself. Indeed, every ordinary Sunday, it forms part of the Office of Lauds in the Liturgy of the Hours. This is hardly surprising: for the Jews, this psalm concerns the Messiah; for us Christians, when we celebrate the Resurrection of Christ, we recognise in him the Messiah awaited throughout the Old Testament, the true King, the conqueror of death. It is therefore on this twofold level — that of Jewish expectation and Christian faith — that it must be considered. For the Jewish faith, it is a psalm of praise: indeed, it begins with the word Alleluia, which means ‘praise God’ and sets the tone for the whole; furthermore, it comprises twenty-nine verses and, throughout, the word ‘Lord’ (the tetragrammaton YHWH) or at least ‘Yah’, which is its first syllable, appears more than thirty times… and these are all expressions of praise for God’s greatness, God’s love, God’s work for his people… A veritable litany! This psalm of praise is intended to accompany a thanksgiving sacrifice during the Feast of Tabernacles, an important and joyful festival lasting eight days in autumn: we find traces of the joy of this festival in the text of the psalm itself. For example: “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

During this festival, people dwell in tents for eight days, in remembrance of the tents of the Exodus after the departure from Egypt, to rediscover the meaning of the Covenant. Then there are numerous celebrations in the Temple of Jerusalem, and processions are held around the altar, waving branches and singing “Hosanna”, which means “Grant, Lord, grant salvation”; and as the expectation of the Messiah is very much alive in the spirit of this festival, the words “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” are repeated, as a sort of prayer to hasten his coming. Another significant rite was a grand and spectacular illumination of the Temple on the final evening. All these rites resonate in this psalm, provided one reads it in its entirety. For example, in other verses which we do not hear in the liturgy of the Second Sunday of Easter, it is proclaimed: ‘With branches in hand, form a procession to the altar… Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”, “Say, the Lord enlightens us”, alluding to the illumination of the final evening. All this concerns words of praise, and these are the reasons: to speak of the history of Israel, the psalm recounts the story of a king who has just faced a merciless war and achieved victory. This king now comes to give thanks to his God for having sustained him. He says, for example: “They pushed me hard to make me fall, but the Lord helped me… and again, all the nations surrounded me: in the name of the Lord I defeated them… and again: I shall not die, I shall live and proclaim the works of the Lord”.  The speaker is therefore a king who has miraculously escaped all the attacks of hostile peoples; but in reality we know what to read between the lines: it is the story of the people of Israel. Many times, throughout its history, it has come close to annihilation; but each time the Lord has raised it up, and it celebrates this in the great Feast of Tabernacles: it sings “I shall not die, I shall live and proclaim the works of the Lord”. This role as a witness to the works of the Lord is Israel’s very vocation; and it is in the very awareness of this vocation that it has found the strength to survive all its trials throughout history. For us Christians, this psalm evokes a connection between the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles and Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which we commemorate on Palm Sunday. But above all, the joy that runs through this psalm is fitting for the Risen One on Easter morning! He is that victorious king and, on closer inspection, the evangelists, each in their own way, present him to us as the true king. Matthew, for example, constructed the episode of the Magi’s visit in such a way as to make us understand that the true king is not the one indicated by historians (Herod), but the child of Bethlehem… or John, who, in the account of the Passion, clearly presents Jesus as the true King of the Jews. Meditating on the mystery of this Messiah—rejected, despised, crucified—the apostles discovered a new meaning in this psalm: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes’.  Jesus had already quoted it in the parable of the murderous vineyard tenants, showing that he is the cornerstone, rejected by the builders and become the foundation stone; that is, rejected by his own people, he became the foundation stone of the new Israel. He is truly ‘the one who comes in the name of the Lord’, as the psalm says: this very expression was used during his solemn entry into Jerusalem. Finally, we know that this psalm was sung in Jerusalem on the occasion of a thanksgiving sacrifice. Jesus, however, has just performed the sacrifice of thanksgiving par excellence! He takes the lead of the new Israel, which gives thanks to God his Father: and it is precisely this that characterises Jesus. His entire attitude towards the Father is one of thanksgiving, thus inaugurating the New Covenant between God and humanity: the one in which humanity is nothing other than a response of love to the Father’s love.

 

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (1:3–9)          

 Some wonder whether Peter might have drawn here on a hymn sung during baptisms… We have no proof of this, but it is nonetheless an interesting hypothesis that may help us to understand this text better. Three stanzas are easily discernible, of which I offer a brief summary: First stanza (vv. 3, 4, 5): “Blessed be God…”. He has brought us to new life through the Resurrection of Christ, and now we live in faith and hope; as a well-known hymn says: God makes us, in Jesus Christ, free people. Second stanza (vv. 6 and 7): hope already makes us leap for joy, but we are still in the time of the testing of our faith. Third stanza (vv. 8 and 9): blessed are those who believe without having seen; our faith already gives us an inexpressible joy that transfigures us. The word ‘faith’ appears five times in these few lines. This is not surprising, given that we are in a baptismal celebration; and there is also an extraordinary joy, which he describes as inexpressible, despite the present trials (even though you must now be grieved for a little while by various trials, v. 6): here he is clearly addressing Christian communities living in a hostile world, probably persecuted, and this seems precisely to be the case for Peter’s audience. For convenience, I shall now take up the three verses one by one: “Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ”: the form is Jewish, the content is Christian; beginning with a great blessing of God is typical of Jewish prayer; and it is certainly someone who has sung the psalms a great deal who is able to write such a text! But the content is Christian: in the Psalms, God is celebrated as the God of the Fathers, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob… by now Revelation has taken a decisive step: God is known as the Father of Jesus Christ, and it is through Jesus Christ that he fulfils his plan for humanity. “God has brought us to new life through the Resurrection of Jesus Christ”: just as Jesus himself did in his conversation with Nicodemus, Peter speaks of baptism as a new birth, and this new birth has its source in the Resurrection of Christ; today, after well over two thousand years of Christianity, we are so accustomed to the phrase “Jesus Christ is risen” that perhaps we no longer feel its shock; but the early Christians experienced it as a true revolution: by now, for them, the face of the world had changed; as Paul says, the old world has passed away, a new one has been born (2 Cor 5).

Another theme typical of Paul is also very prominent in Peter: the tension between the present and the future: everything is already accomplished in the resurrection of Christ and so he speaks in the past tense: God has made us born again… everything is already decided, so to speak; yet everything remains yet to come: we are reaching out towards the salvation ready to be revealed in the last days, as Peter says. The word ‘salvation’ could be translated as life… which knows neither corruption, nor stain, nor decay; it could also be translated as liberation from all that is indeed corruption, stain, and decay. A salvation, a liberation already accomplished in Jesus Christ, but into which all humanity has not yet entered: and this is what remains to come.

It is the fact that everything is already accomplished from this moment that makes us leap for joy, as Peter says; the days when we are sad are perhaps those in which we lose sight of this great news of Easter: the good news that love and life are stronger than all hatred and death, even if in certain situations this certainty tends to fade and our faith is then put to the test! And the second verse puts it well: ‘You are being tested for a little while by various trials,’ says Peter. The rest of the letter gives a glimpse of the difficulties in question, probably the hostility encountered by these young Christians who appear marginalised in a pagan world.

The final verse takes up this theme of faith during the time of waiting; Peter had the privilege of knowing and spending a long time with Jesus Christ, but he addresses Christians who did not know him and explains to them the blessedness that Jesus had spoken of to Thomas: ‘Blessed are those who believe without having seen’, and he encourages them: You love him without having seen him; and without seeing him yet, you believe in him… and you rejoice with an ‘inexpressible and glorious’ joy. When he uses the expression ‘glorious joy’, Peter knows what he is talking about, he who had the privilege of witnessing the Transfiguration of Jesus: and on the faces of Christians he sees a reflection of the light that radiated from Jesus himself. Peter’s emphasis on the joy of Christians—a joy that is at once inexpressible and stronger than all passing trials—resonates today as a call to ensure that everyone can see the joy of our baptism on our faces, as a reflection of the transfigured Jesus. Traditionally, this Sunday was called ‘in albis’, meaning ‘in white garments’. Indeed, those newly baptised on Easter night wore their baptismal garments throughout the Easter week. And this Sunday represented for them a kind of feast of the baptised.

 

*From the Gospel according to John (20:19–31)

 It was after Jesus’ death, on the evening of the first day of the week, that is, Sunday. This is not merely a temporal detail that Saint John offers us, but rather a small yet significant sign. When John wrote his Gospel, some fifty years had already passed since the events—that is, since the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Fifty years during which Christians gathered every Sunday to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus; and so the message he wishes to convey is: ‘Do you understand, then, why we gather every Sunday?’ The gathering of Christians every Sunday was a characteristic of Christians within the Jewish world, and it was precisely to commemorate the resurrection of Christ. For the Jews, the first day of the week – Sunday – was a working day like any other, whilst the seventh day, the Sabbath (Shabbat), was a day of celebration, rest, assembly and prayer. Now, it was the day after the Shabbat that Jesus rose from the dead, and on several occasions he appeared alive to his apostles after the resurrection, always on the first day of the week: thus, for Christians, that day took on a special significance. This first day of the week appears as the first day of the new era: just as the Jews’ seven-day week recalled the seven days of Creation, so this new week, which began with Christ’s resurrection, was understood by Christians as the beginning of the new Creation. The disciples had locked the doors of the place where they were, out of fear of the Jews, when Jesus came and stood among them. John emphasises that the disciples are shut inside and afraid because, having killed the Master, they might well kill his disciples too. Yet this too highlights Christ’s freedom. Everything is locked up, but for him it is no problem: he has no need of bolts and, above all, he knows no fear! And, precisely for this reason, his first words are: ‘Peace be with you’! It was the customary Jewish greeting… yet it is still a surprising greeting after all that has happened! The fear, the anguish of the last few months before Jesus’ arrest, the horror of his passion and death, Thursday night, Friday, and that silence of the Sabbath, after Jesus had been laid in the tomb… Is it possible to be at peace as if nothing had happened? Yet, it is incredible but true: he is truly alive… and, to prove it, he shows his wounds, the permanent marks of the crucifixion. In this regard, it is specifically noted that the marks are still present in his hands, feet and side: the Resurrection does not erase our death. So, even though it may seem incredible, Saint John notes that the disciples rejoiced. What they are experiencing is unheard of! And, at this point, John continues: “Jesus said to them again: ‘Peace be with you’”. Now they can truly be at peace… not as if nothing had happened, but in spite of what has happened: because this peace of the Risen One goes far beyond anything that might happen. “Having said this, he breathed on them and said to them: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. ‘Whose sins you forgive are forgiven; whose sins you retain are retained.’ The link between the gift of the Spirit and the mission of reconciliation is striking: in the Bible, the Spirit is always given for a mission. But ultimately, can there be any mission more important than reconciling people with God? Everything else flows from this. It is a command that Jesus gives: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Go and proclaim that sins are remitted, that is, forgiven. Be ambassadors of universal reconciliation. And if you do not go, the Good News, the gospel of Reconciliation, will not be proclaimed. Jesus says: “As the Father has sent me…”: from the very mouth of Jesus Christ, we have a summary of his entire mission, for it is as if he were saying: The Father has sent me to proclaim universal reconciliation, to proclaim that sins are forgiven, and that God does not keep a record of people’s sins; in other words, I have come to proclaim one thing alone: that God is all Love and Forgiveness. In turn, I send you on the same mission. Therefore, we must pay close attention: the only true sin, which is at the root of all others, is not to believe in or to reject God’s love: I therefore send you so that you may proclaim to all people God’s infinite love, that is, that God is infinite Mercy. But how can we make God’s love known? It is not enough to proclaim God’s mercy; one must ‘give one’s life’ for the ‘salvation’ of souls. When will we understand that this is the whole Gospel and how great our responsibility is? 

 

NB Please note: We must fully understand the phrase: ‘Whose sins you forgive are forgiven; whose sins you do not forgive are not forgiven’. I have been drawn into a structural and theological analysis which I share with you.  

 

Greco	Traslitterazione	Traduzione italiana
ἄν	an	se / a chiunque
τινων	tinōn	di alcuni / di chiunque
ἀφῆτε	aphēte	rimettete / lasciate andare
τὰς	tas	i (femminile plurale, oggetto)
ἁμαρτίας	hamartias	peccati
ἀφέωνται	apheōntai	sono rimessi
αὐτοῖς	autois	a loro
ἄν	an	se / a chiunque
τινων	tinōn	di alcuni / di chiunque
κρατῆτε	kratēte	trattenete / tenete
κεκράτηνται	kekratēntai	sono trattenuti

 

Full Greek text with transliteration ἄν τινων ἀφῆτε τὰς ἁμαρτίας, ἀφέωνται αὐτοῖς· (an tinōn aphēte tas hamartias, apheōntai autois) ἄν τινων κρατῆτε, κεκράτηνται. (an tinōn kratēte, kekratēntai) Fluid translation of the verse: “Whose sins you forgive, they are already forgiven; whose sins you retain, they remain retained.”  The sentence is constructed in two parallel movements: ἀφῆτε (you forgive),  ἀφέωνται (they are already forgiven by God); κρατῆτε (you retain), κεκράτηνται (they are already retained)  Immediate emergence: visible action and divine reality.  Verbs of the apostles: ἀφῆτε / κρατῆτε  which are aorist subjunctive and signify: a precise and decisive act, a real event. b) The final verbs ἀφέωνται / κεκράτηνται are in the passive perfect tense and mean: an action already accomplished and already established by God, a lasting effect. Why does John use the aorist? He does not use the present tense because it does not indicate a continuous action, but the aorist, which means: “ At the moment you forgive or retain sins, a real and decisive act takes place” and the act of the apostles enters into God’s permanent, effective action. Theological consequences: Primacy of God: only God forgives. Role of the Church: to make visible, to apply forgiveness concretely, and sin is either removed or remains. Spiritual insight: Forgiveness is a real event, not a symbol, and the Church is a visible instrument, but the efficacy comes from God. Final summary: When the Church remits sins, a real and decisive act takes place in which the forgiveness that is already at work in God is manifested and made present; when she withholds them, it is evident that, unfortunately, that forgiveness has not been accepted. And here lies the problem: why is it not accepted? Forgiveness is neither an idea nor a process: it is an event of God, and the Church makes it visible. God always forgives us, and we are forgiven when we confess our sin with faith. God is infinite Mercy that never fails and desires that all may be saved; but it is necessary for man to welcome His gratuitous love into his heart. The Church is called to make this forgiveness visible every day, without ceasing, and every Christian is called to bear witness to and proclaim the forgiveness that is God’s absolutely gratuitous love, so that all may believe, welcome it and experience it in their own lives. In short: God forgives endlessly, and those who believe proclaim it and live it as the Gospel that enters their very being. I conclude with this message from Medjugorje, 2 March 1997: “Dear children! Pray for your brothers and sisters who have not come to know the love of God the Father, and for those for whom life on earth is more important. Open your hearts to them and see in them my Son who loves them. You must be my light: enlighten all souls in whom darkness reigns. Thank you for responding to my call.”

It depends on you, says Jesus to the apostles and today to us, that your brothers and sisters may come to know and experience God’s love and live in his mercy. God’s plan will be fully accomplished only when you, in turn, have completed your mission. In short, understand well: just as the Father sent me, so I send you. And you do not have much time to lose

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

The Easter Triduum and Easter [2–5 April 2026]

Holy Week, the most important week of the year for us Christians, allows believers to immerse themselves in the central events of the Redemption by reliving the Paschal Mystery, the great Mystery of faith. These are the days of the Easter Triduum, the fulcrum of the entire liturgical year, which help us to open our hearts to an understanding of the priceless gift that is the salvation obtained for us through Christ’s sacrifice. This immense gift is recounted in a famous hymn contained in the Letter to the Philippians (cf. 2:6–11), which we often have the opportunity to meditate upon during Lent. In it, Saint Paul traces the entire mystery of the history of salvation, alluding to the pride of Adam who, though not God, wanted to be like God. And he contrasts this pride of the first man—which we all feel to some extent within ourselves—with the humility of the true Son of God who, by becoming man, did not hesitate to take upon himself all the weaknesses of the human being, except sin, and went as far as the depths of death. This descent into the ultimate depths of passion and death is then followed by his exaltation, true glory, the glory of love that went to the very end. And it is therefore fitting – as Paul says – that ‘at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess: Jesus Christ is Lord!’ (2:10-1). St Paul alludes, with these words, to a prophecy of Isaiah where God says: ‘I am the Lord; let every knee bow before me in heaven and on earth’ (cf. Is 45:23). This, says Paul, applies to Jesus Christ. He truly, in his humility, in the true greatness of his love, is the Lord of the world, and before him every knee truly bows. How wonderful, and at the same time surprising, is this mystery! We can never meditate sufficiently on this reality. Jesus, though he was God, did not wish to make his divine prerogatives an exclusive possession; he did not wish to use his divinity, his glorious dignity and his power, as an instrument of triumph and a sign of distance from us. On the contrary, ‘he emptied himself’ by taking on the wretched and weak human condition – Paul uses, in this regard, a very evocative Greek verb to indicate the kénosis, this descent of Jesus. The divine form (morphé) was hidden in Christ under the human form, that is, under our reality marked by suffering, poverty, our human limitations and death. This radical and true sharing in our nature—sharing in everything except sin—led him to that frontier which is the sign of our finitude: death. Yet all this was not the result of some obscure mechanism or blind fate: rather, it was his free choice, born of a generous adherence to the Father’s plan of salvation. And the death he faced – adds Paul – was that of the cross, the most humiliating and degrading one imaginable. All this the Lord of the universe accomplished out of love for us: out of love he chose to ‘empty himself’ and become our brother; out of love he shared our condition, that of every man and every woman. A great witness of the Eastern tradition, Theodoret of Cyrus, writes on this subject: ‘Being God and God by nature, and being equal with God, he did not regard this as something to be grasped, as do those who have received some honour beyond their merits, but, hiding his merits, he chose the deepest humility and took the form of a human being’ (Commentary on the Epistle to the Philippians, 2:6–7).

Let us now pause to reflect briefly on the various moments of the Easter Triduum. The prelude to the Easter Triduum, with the evocative afternoon rites of Holy Thursday, is the solemn Chrism Mass, which the Bishop celebrates in the morning with his presbyterate, and during which the priestly promises made on the day of Ordination are renewed together. It is a gesture of great significance, a most propitious occasion on which priests reaffirm their fidelity to Christ, who has chosen them as his ministers. Also during the Chrism Mass, the oil of the sick and the oil of catechumens will be blessed, and the Chrism will be consecrated. These rites symbolically signify the fullness of Christ’s Priesthood and that ecclesial communion which must animate the Christian people, gathered for the Eucharistic sacrifice and enlivened in unity by the gift of the Holy Spirit.

In the afternoon Mass, known as the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the Church commemorates the institution of the Eucharist, the ministerial priesthood and the new commandment of charity, left by Jesus to his disciples. Saint Paul offers one of the earliest accounts of what took place in the Upper Room on the eve of the Lord’s Passion. ‘The Lord Jesus,’ he writes in the early 1950s, drawing on a text he received from the Lord’s own circle, ‘on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and having given thanks, broke it and said: “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me”. In the same way, after supper, he also took the cup, saying: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me” (1 Cor 11:23–25). Words steeped in mystery, which clearly reveal Christ’s will: under the species of bread and wine, He makes Himself present with His body given and His blood shed. It is the sacrifice of the new and definitive covenant offered to all, without distinction of race or culture. And for this sacramental rite, which He entrusts to the Church as the supreme proof of His love, Jesus appoints as ministers His disciples and all those who will continue His ministry throughout the centuries. Holy Thursday is therefore a renewed invitation to give thanks to God for the supreme gift of the Eucharist, to be received with devotion and adored with living faith. For this reason, the Church encourages us, after the celebration of Holy Mass, to keep vigil in the presence of the Most Holy Sacrament, recalling the sorrowful hour that Jesus spent in solitude and prayer in Gethsemane, before being arrested and subsequently condemned to death.

Good Friday is the day of the Lord’s Passion and Crucifixion. Every year, as we stand in silence before Jesus hanging on the wood of the cross, we sense how full of love are the words He spoke the evening before, during the Last Supper. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” (cf. Mk 14:24). Jesus wished to offer His life as a sacrifice for the forgiveness of humanity’s sins. Just as with the Eucharist, so too with the Passion and death of Jesus on the Cross, the mystery becomes unfathomable to reason. We are faced with something that, from a human perspective, might seem absurd: a God who not only becomes man, with all the needs of man, not only suffers to save man by taking upon himself the full weight of humanity’s tragedy, but dies for man.

Christ’s death recalls the accumulation of pain and evil that weighs upon humanity in every age: the crushing burden of our mortality, the hatred and violence that still today stain the earth with blood. The Lord’s Passion continues in the sufferings of mankind. As Blaise Pascal rightly writes, ‘Jesus will be in agony until the end of the world; we must not sleep during this time’ (Pensées, 553). If Good Friday is a day full of sadness, it is at the same time a day more propitious than ever for reawakening our faith, for strengthening our hope and the courage to carry our own cross with humility, trust and surrender to God, certain of his support and his victory. The liturgy of this day sings: O Crux, ave, spes unica – Hail, O Cross, our only hope!

This hope is nourished in the great silence of Holy Saturday, as we await the resurrection of Jesus. On this day, the churches are stripped bare and no special liturgical rites are scheduled. The Church keeps vigil in prayer like Mary and together with Mary, sharing her same feelings of sorrow and trust in God. It is rightly recommended that a prayerful atmosphere, conducive to meditation and reconciliation, be maintained throughout the day; the faithful are encouraged to approach the Sacrament of Penance, so that they may participate in the Easter celebrations truly renewed.

The recollection and silence of Holy Saturday will lead us through the night to the solemn Easter Vigil, ‘the mother of all vigils’, when the song of joy for Christ’s Resurrection will burst forth in all churches and communities. Once again, the victory of light over darkness, of life over death, will be proclaimed, and the Church will rejoice in her encounter with her Lord. Thus we shall enter into the spirit of the Easter of the Resurrection.

Let us prepare ourselves to live the Holy Triduum intensely, so that we may participate ever more deeply in the Mystery of Christ. The Blessed Virgin accompanies us on this journey; she followed her Son Jesus in silence to Calvary, sharing in his sacrifice with great sorrow, thus cooperating in the mystery of Redemption and becoming the Mother of all believers (cf. Jn 19:25–27). Together with Mary, we shall enter the Upper Room, we shall remain at the foot of the Cross, we shall keep vigil in spirit beside the dead Christ, awaiting with hope the dawn of the radiant day of the Resurrection. In this spirit, I offer you all, even at this early stage, my warmest wishes for a joyful and holy Easter, which I ask you to extend to your families, your parishes and your communities.

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Palm Sunday and the Passion of the Lord [29 March 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us! We enter Holy Week, of which Palm Sunday already gives us a foretaste of the joy and sorrow, the mystery of love and hatred that leads to death: the whole Passion, death and resurrection of Christ. To relive is not merely to remember, but also to open our hearts ever more to this mystery of salvation.

 

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (50:4–7)

Isaiah was certainly not thinking of Jesus Christ when he wrote this text, probably in the 6th century BC, during the exile in Babylon. Let me explain: since his people were in exile, in very harsh conditions, and could easily have succumbed to discouragement, Isaiah reminds them that they are always God’s servants. And that God is counting on them, his servants (that is, his people), to bring his plan of salvation for humanity to fulfilment. The people of Israel are therefore this Servant of God, nourished every morning by the Word, yet also persecuted precisely because of their faith and capable, despite everything, of withstanding all trials. In this text, Isaiah clearly describes the extraordinary relationship that unites the Servant (Israel) with his God. Its main characteristic is listening to the Word of God, ‘the open ear’, as Isaiah puts it. ‘Listening’ is a word that has a very particular meaning in the Bible: it means to trust. We usually contrast these two fundamental attitudes between which our lives constantly oscillate: trust in God, a serene surrender to his will because we know from experience that his will is always good; or mistrust, suspicion of God’s intentions, and rebellion in the face of trials—a rebellion that can lead us to believe that God has abandoned us or, worse still, that He might take some satisfaction in our sufferings.

The prophets repeat: “Listen, Israel” or: “Will you listen to the Word of God today?” And on their lips, the exhortation “listen” always means: trust in God, whatever happens. And Saint Paul explains why: We know that all things work together for good for those who love God (Rom 8:28).

From every evil, from every difficulty, from every trial, God brings forth good; to every hatred he opposes an even stronger love; in every persecution, he grants the strength of forgiveness; and from every death, he brings forth life, the resurrection. It is a story of mutual trust. God trusts his Servant and entrusts him with a mission; in turn, the Servant accepts the mission with trust. And it is precisely this trust that gives him the strength needed to remain steadfast even in the opposition he will inevitably encounter. Here the mission is that of a witness: “So that I may sustain with my words those who are weary,” says the Servant. In entrusting him with this mission, the Lord also grants the necessary strength and the appropriate language: “The Lord God has given me the tongue of a disciple.” And even more: he himself nourishes this trust, which is the source of all boldness in the service of others: “The Lord God makes my ear attentive”, which means that listening (in the biblical sense, that is, trust) is itself a gift from God. Everything is a gift: the mission, the strength, and even the trust that makes one unshakeable. This is precisely the hallmark of the believer: to recognise everything as a gift from God. He who lives in this permanent gift of God’s strength can face anything: “I did not resist, I did not turn back.” Faithfulness to the mission received inevitably entails persecution. True prophets, those who truly speak in the name of God, are rarely appreciated during their lifetime. In concrete terms, Isaiah says to his contemporaries: hold fast. The Lord has not abandoned you; on the contrary, you are on a mission for him. Do not be surprised, then, if you are mistreated. Why? Because the Servant who truly listens to the Word of God—that is, who puts it into practice—soon becomes a thorn in the side. His very conversion calls others to conversion. Some heed this call… others reject it and, convinced of their own righteousness, persecute the Servant. And every morning the Servant must return to the source, to the One who enables him to face everything. Isaiah uses a somewhat strange expression: “I set my face like flint” to express resolve and courage. Isaiah was speaking to his people, persecuted and humiliated during the exile in Babylon; but, naturally, when one re-reads the Passion of Christ, this text stands out in all its clarity: Christ corresponds perfectly to this portrait of the Servant of God. Listening to the Word, unshakeable trust and thus the certainty of victory even in the midst of persecution: all this characterised Jesus precisely at the moment when the acclamations of the crowd on Palm Sunday marked and hastened his condemnation.

 

*Responsorial Psalm (21/22)

Psalm 21 (22) begins with the famous cry: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”. This phrase has often been taken out of context and interpreted as a cry of despair, whereas in reality the psalm must be read in its entirety. Indeed, after describing suffering and anguish, it ends with a great song of thanksgiving: “You have answered me! I will proclaim your name to my brothers and sisters’. The one who at first feels forsaken ultimately recognises that God has saved him and has not left him alone. Some images in the psalm seem to describe the crucifixion: ‘They have pierced my hands and my feet’, ‘they divide my garments’, ‘a band of evildoers surrounds me’. This is why the New Testament applies this psalm to the Passion of Jesus. However, the text originated in a specific historical context: the return of the people of Israel from the Babylonian exile. The exile had been like a death sentence for the people, who had risked disappearing; the return to their own land is therefore likened to the liberation of a condemned man who had narrowly escaped death. The image of the crucifixion serves to express the humiliation, violence and sense of abandonment experienced by the people, but the focus of the psalm is not suffering but rather the salvation received. The cry “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is therefore not a cry of despair or doubt, but the prayer of one who suffers and continues to turn to God with trust. Even in the midst of trial, Israel does not cease to pray and to remember the covenant and the blessings received from the Lord. For this reason, the psalm can be likened to a votive offering: in times of danger, God’s help is invoked, and once saved, thanks are given publicly. The psalm recalls the tragedy endured, but above all proclaims gratitude towards God who has delivered his people. The final verses thus become a great hymn of praise: the poor shall be satisfied, those who seek the Lord shall praise him, and all nations shall acknowledge his lordship. God’s salvation will also be proclaimed to future generations. For this reason, in Christian tradition, this psalm has been recognised as a prophecy of Christ’s Passion: on the cross, Jesus echoes the first verse of the psalm, but just as for Israel, so too for him the final word is not suffering, but salvation and life.

 

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians (2:6–11)

During the exile in Babylon, in the 6th century BC, the prophet Isaiah had bestowed upon the people of Israel the title of Servant of God. Their mission, amidst the trials of exile, was to remain faithful to the faith of their fathers and to bear witness to it among the pagans, even at the cost of humiliation and persecution. Only God could give them the strength to fulfil this mission. When the early Christians were confronted with the scandal of the cross, they sought to understand Jesus’ destiny and found the explanation in the words of St Paul: Jesus ‘emptied himself, taking the form of a servant’. He too faced opposition, humiliation and persecution, drawing his strength from the Father and living in total trust in Him. Although he was of divine nature, Jesus did not seek glory and honours. As Paul says, “though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited”. Precisely because he is God, he claims nothing for himself, but lives in gratuitous love and becomes man to show mankind the way to salvation. His exaltation is not a deserved reward, but a free gift from God. God’s logic is not that of merit or calculation, but that of grace, which is always a free gift. According to Paul, God’s plan is a plan of love: to bring humanity into his life, into his joy and into his communion. This gift is not earned, but received with gratitude. When man demands or claims, he closes himself off from grace, as happened symbolically with the sin in the Garden of Eden. Jesus, on the other hand, lives in the opposite attitude: the total acceptance of the Father’s will, what Paul calls obedience. For this reason, God exalted him and gave him the Name that is above every name: the name of Lord, a title which in the Old Testament belonged only to God. Before him “every knee shall bow”, to quote the words of the prophet Isaiah (Is 45:23). Jesus lived his entire life in humility and trust, even in the face of human violence and death. His obedience – which literally means “to place one’s ear before the word” – expresses a total and trusting listening to the Father’s will. For this reason, Paul’s hymn concludes with the Church’s profession of faith: “Every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father”. In Christ, the glory of God is fully manifested, that is, the revelation of his infinite love. Seeing Jesus love to the very end and give his life, one can recognise, like the centurion beneath the cross, that he is truly the Son of God.

 

*The Passion of Jesus Christ according to Saint Matthew (26:14–27:66)

Every year, on Palm Sunday, the liturgy reads the account of the Passion from one of the three Synoptic Gospels; this year it is that of Matthew. The four accounts of the Passion are similar in broad outline, but each evangelist highlights certain particular aspects. Matthew, in particular, recounts certain episodes and details that the others do not mention. First of all, Matthew is the only one to specify the exact sum for which Judas betrays Jesus: thirty pieces of silver, which according to the Law was the price of a slave. This detail shows the contempt with which men treated the Lord. Later, Judas himself, overcome with remorse, returns the money to the chief priests, saying that he has handed over an innocent man to his death. They, however, do not wish to take responsibility for it. Judas throws the coins into the temple and hangs himself; the priests use that money to purchase the potter’s field, intended for the burial of foreigners, later called the ‘Field of Blood’, thus fulfilling a prophetic word. During the trial before Pilate, Matthew recounts a unique episode: the intervention of Pilate’s wife, who sends word to her husband not to have anything to do with ‘that righteous man’, for she has suffered greatly in a dream because of him. Pilate himself appears unsettled and, seeing that the crowd is growing ever more agitated, performs the symbolic gesture of washing his hands, declaring himself innocent of that man’s blood. The crowd replies: ‘Let his blood be on us and on our children.’ Pilate then releases Barabbas and hands Jesus over to be crucified. At the moment of Jesus’ death, Matthew also recounts that the veil of the temple is torn, but adds extraordinary details: the earth trembles, the rocks split, the tombs open, and many righteous people rise and appear in the holy city after Jesus’ resurrection. Finally, Matthew highlights the authorities’ concern to guard the tomb, fearing that the disciples might steal the body and claim that Jesus has risen; this very message is what they will spread after Easter. The account highlights a great paradox: the blindness of the religious authorities, who persecute Jesus, whilst some pagans, almost unwittingly, bestow upon him the highest titles. Pilate’s wife calls him ‘righteous’, Pilate has ‘King of the Jews’ written on the cross, and even the title ‘Son of God’, initially used to mock him, ultimately becomes a true profession of faith when the Roman centurion exclaims: ‘Truly this man was the Son of God’. This confession already foreshadows the opening of salvation to the pagans and shows that Christ’s death is not a defeat, but a victory. Matthew highlights the contrast between the weakness of the condemned man and his true greatness: it is precisely in his apparent powerlessness that Jesus manifests the greatness of God, who is infinite love. And in this light, we come to understand ever more deeply the significance of Christ’s Passion, which we shall relive visually this week and in particular during the Holy Triduum: Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday, and above all in the outpouring of Easter joy at Christ’s Resurrection.

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole