Ascension of the Lord (year A) and VII Easter Sunday [Thursday 14 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:1–11)

The opening verses serve as a bridge between the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel of Luke, which is also dedicated to a certain Theophilus. One begins where the other ends, namely with the account of Jesus’ Ascension, even though the two accounts do not agree on everything. The Gospel recounts Jesus’ mission and preaching; the second is dedicated to the mission and preaching of the Apostles, hence the name “Acts of the Apostles”. The parallel can be taken further: the Gospel begins and ends in Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish world and of the First Covenant; the Acts begin in Jerusalem, because the New Covenant is a continuation of the First, but they end in Rome, the crossroads of all the roads of the then-known world: the New Covenant now extends beyond the borders of Israel. For Luke, it is clear that this expansion is the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the very Spirit of Jesus and will be the inspiration of the Apostles from Pentecost onwards, so much so that the Acts are often called “the Gospel of the Spirit”. Just as Jesus had prepared for his mission with forty days in the desert after his Baptism, so too does he prepare the Church for forty days: “For forty days he appeared to them and spoke about the kingdom of God”. During a final meal, he gives his instructions: a command, a promise, a sending forth on mission. The command is almost surprising: to wait and not to move. “He instructed them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise.” That the Father’s promises would be fulfilled in Jerusalem certainly did not surprise the Eleven, all of whom were Jews, for the entire preaching of the prophets assigned Jerusalem a decisive role in the fulfilment of God’s plan. Luke specifies the content of the promise: “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’ time.” The apostles had in mind the prophecies of Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all people” (Joel 3:1–2), and of Zechariah: “On that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and impurity” (Zech 13:1)  and Ezekiel: “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be cleansed… I will give you a new heart, and  I will put a new spirit within you… I will put my Spirit within you” (Ezek 36:25–27).

The apostles’ question “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” shows that they had clearly understood that the famous Day of the Lord had dawned. Jesus’ reply should not surprise us: God calls upon human cooperation to bring about his plan, and the salvation of God, which has come through Jesus Christ, calls upon people to enter into it. For this to happen, people must know of it, and from this arises the mission and responsibility of the Apostles. The Spirit is given to them for this purpose: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” This means that between the gift of the Spirit and the definitive coming of the Kingdom there is an interval which is the time of witness: an interval that is all the longer the more the message is to be brought to all humanity. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” The Book of Acts follows this plan exactly. Just as on Easter morning “two men in dazzling robes” had torn the women away from their contemplation, saying, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen”, so on the day of the Ascension two men in white robes do the same with the Apostles: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing into the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven”. He will return, we are certain of it, and that is why we say at every Eucharist: “As we await the fulfilment of our blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ”. In the Bible, the cloud is the visible sign of God’s presence, as at the crossing of the Red Sea or at the Transfiguration. The cloud that hides Jesus from human sight is the sign that he has now entered God’s realm: his physical and visible presence thus ceases to inaugurate his spiritual presence. It is impossible to reconstruct exactly what happened between Jesus’ Resurrection, on Easter night, and the day he definitively left his apostles to return to the Father. In Luke’s accounts, in both the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, the two narratives are very similar: Jesus’ departure takes place near Jerusalem, for the Gospel speaks of Bethany and the Acts of the Mount of Olives; in both, Luke specifies that Jesus instructs the disciples not to leave Jerusalem before they have received the Holy Spirit. The only difference concerns the timing: in the Gospel, it seems that the departure takes place on Easter evening itself; after appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they return to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven everything; and it is whilst they are talking together that Jesus appears, stays with them, and explains the Scriptures; then he leads them to Bethany and there disappears from their sight for good. In Acts, however, Luke specifies that forty days elapsed between Easter and the Ascension; and this is why we celebrate the the Ascension forty days after Easter. In the other Gospels there is almost nothing on this: in Matthew there is no account of the Ascension, but only an appearance of Jesus to two women who had gone to the tomb and then to the disciples in Galilee, during which he utters the phrase with which his Gospel concludes: “ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit’ John gives a more detailed account of several appearances of the Risen One, one to Mary Magdalene and three to the disciples, the last by the Sea of Tiberias; but he does not recount the Ascension. As for Mark, he recounts the appearance to Mary Magdalene, then to two disciples who were going out into the countryside, and finally to the Eleven. Jesus sends them to preach the Gospel to the whole world, and Mark concludes by saying: “The Lord Jesus, after speaking to them, was taken up into heaven and sat at the right hand of God” . These differences between the Gospels prove that their details do not aim at historical or geographical reality: Matthew has his reasons for speaking of Galilee. Luke, on the other hand, has his own reasons for emphasising Jerusalem, because it was there that Jesus told them to wait for the gift of the Spirit, and Luke’s Gospel ends with Jesus’ final instruction: “And behold, I am sending upon you the one whom my Father has promised; but you must remain in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Lk 24:49).

Responsorial Psalm (46/47)

Here Israel sings and acclaims God as its king, and this is not surprising; but what is even more astonishing is that it says God is the king of the whole earth. Now, this was not always the view in Israel. Before the Babylonian Exile, none of the kings of Israel imagined that God was the Lord of the entire universe. This means that the psalm was composed late in the history of the chosen people. I shall focus on the first statement: God is the king of Israel. For a long period of biblical history, Israel had kings, like its neighbouring peoples, but its conception of kingship was unique, and this distinctiveness persisted throughout its history. In Israel, the king could never claim to be the highest authority in the land and did not hold absolute power, for God remained the sovereign. In other words, the true king in Israel was none other than God Himself. The king, for example, could not interpret the laws as he pleased and  had, like everyone else, to submit to the Law of God given to Moses on Mount Sinai. According to the Book of Deuteronomy, he was required to read the entire Law every day of his life. Even whilst sitting on the throne, he was, in principle, merely an executor of God’s commands conveyed by the prophets. In the Books of Kings, in fact, we often see one king or another seeking the consent of the prophet of the day before going into battle or even, in David’s case, before undertaking the construction of the Temple. And on several occasions we see the prophets intervening freely in the lives of the kings and sometimes violently criticising their behaviour. The affirmation of God’s sovereignty was even a hindrance to the establishment of the monarchy. One recalls the very violent reaction of the prophet Samuel, in the time of the Judges, when the leaders of the tribes of Israel came to tell him that they wanted a king ‘to be like the other nations’. To desire to be ‘like the other nations’ when one had the honour of being the people chosen by God for the covenant was, in his eyes, a true blasphemy. He eventually yielded to the insistence of the tribal leaders, but not without warning them that they were bringing ruin upon themselves. And when he anointed the first king, Saul, he took care to specify that he was becoming the head of God’s inheritance. The people remained God’s people and not the king’s, and the king was but a servant of God. And throughout the monarchy in Israel, the prophets took it upon themselves to remind the kings of this fundamental truth. To the extent that the Books of Kings, when recounting the successive reigns, have but one criterion of judgement: the faithfulness of each king to God’s will. One phrase recurs constantly: ‘Such-and-such a king did what was right in the eyes of the Lord’, or conversely, ‘Such-and-such a king did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord’. It is therefore in honour of God himself that our psalm deploys here the entire vocabulary otherwise reserved for the kings of the earth. The very word ‘awesome’ is a compliment; it is a common term in courtly language and is reassuring: the enemies are warned, our king will be invincible. In every line of this psalm, it is clear that we are speaking of the God of Sinai, the Lord, who is acclaimed as God and King of the entire universe. This universal dimension is very much present in the psalm, to the point of stating that “God reigns over the pagan nations”. Now, the discovery of monotheism dates only to the Babylonian Exile: until then, the people of Israel were not yet monotheists. To be monotheists means to affirm that there is only one God, the same for the entire cosmos and humanity. Before the Exile, this was not the case: it is said that Israel was ‘monolatristic’; that is, it recognised for itself a single God, the God of the Sinai Covenant. But it believed that other peoples had their own gods. This psalm was therefore probably composed after the return from the Exile, and it was not in the throne room that these acclamations resounded, but in the rebuilt Temple of Jerusalem. Even now, the Jews already imagine the Day when God will finally be recognised for what He is, the Father of all goodness. We Christians, in turn, take up this psalm. And the phrase “God ascends amidst the acclamations” is most fitting for the celebration of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Even though Christ’s kingship has not yet been fully realised and the evangelists do not recount any coronation ceremony for Christ. All the more reason to pay Jesus this magnificent tribute now, which merely anticipates the last day when all the children of God, finally gathered together, will sing: “All you peoples, clap your hands! Acclaim God with shouts of joy” 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Ephesians (1:17–23)

The Letter to the Ephesians is divided into two parts: in chapters 1–3 there is a lengthy contemplation of God’s plan, and in chapters 4–6 an exhortation to the baptised to conform their lives to this mystery. For the feast of the the Ascension, the liturgy offers a passage from the first part in Year A and from the second part in Year B. The first part begins with a lengthy blessing formula in the Jewish style, which in our Christian liturgy we might call a ‘preface’, and it concerns God’s ‘merciful plan’ (Eph 1:3–6). The baptised already share in this mysterious plan of God which, one day, will be extended to all humanity. And Paul speaks of the privilege of us Christians who, having heard the word of truth, that is, the Gospel, have received the seal of the Holy Spirit, a pledge of our inheritance, whilst we await full redemption.  We find all these terms in today’s reading, but in the form of a prayer, generally known as the ‘prayer for enlightenment’, since it takes the light of God to penetrate even a little into this mystery: “May he enlighten the eyes of your heart so that you may understand to what hope he has called you, what treasure of glory his inheritance among the saints holds…” And we know full well that the understanding of which he speaks is not a matter of reason but of the heart, a profound openness to being taught and enlightened. And Paul, as a Jew, knows full well that God’s wisdom is inaccessible to man unless God himself reveals himself to him: “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation for a deeper knowledge of him.” And what lies at the end of this knowledge towards which we are journeying? An inheritance of inestimable value, says Paul. The word “inheritance” in verse 18, and indeed in verse 14, recurs frequently in the Bible: in the Old Testament it refers to the land promised by God to the faithful. The same term is taken up in the New Testament, particularly in Paul’s letters, to denote the Kingdom and eternal life. For example: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God. And if we are children, we are also heirs: heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ’ (Rom 8:16–17). ‘Giving thanks with joy to the Father who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light’ (Col 1:12). ‘ All nations are called, in Christ Jesus, to share in the same inheritance, to form the same body and to be partakers of the same promise through the Gospel” (Eph 3:8). James also develops this theme: “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world, who are rich in faith and heirs of the Kingdom, promised to those who love him?” (Jas 2:5) .  And the Letter to the Hebrews, for its part, often takes up the theme: “God, who in times past spoke to our ancestors many times and in various ways through the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things and through whom he also made the world” (Heb 1:1–2); and a little further on: “That those who have been called may receive the eternal inheritance that was promised” (Heb 9:15) For, and this is the profound reason for Paul’s wonder, the Lord’s disciples are already associated with the triumph of their risen Master. Nothing in this world need frighten them any longer, for death has been conquered and the gates to eternal life are open. The work that God accomplishes in the hearts of believers is a true inner resurrection. 

From the Gospel according to Matthew 28:16–20

Here is Jesus’ farewell discourse, after the Resurrection, in Galilee, commonly called the ‘crossroads of the Gentiles’, the ‘Galilee of the nations’, for the Apostles’ mission now concerns ‘all nations’ . The Gospel of Matthew seems to end abruptly: but in reality, the adventure is just beginning. It is like a film in which the word “THE END” appears on a road stretching out towards infinity. For it is precisely towards infinity that Jesus sends them: the immensity of the world and the infinity of the ages. “Go… Make disciples of all nations… Until the end of the world.” But were the disciples ready for such a mission? If Jesus were a business leader, he could not risk entrusting the future of his enterprise to collaborators like these, who seem not to have fully absorbed all the training he had provided over months. They are mistaken about the objective, the timing, and the nature of the enterprise. They even go so far as to doubt the reality they are experiencing, for Matthew clearly states, “some, however, doubted” (Mt 28:17). The mission entrusted to them, fraught with risks, is to promote a message that still surprises them. Folly, the wise would say; the wisdom of God, Saint Paul would reply. This is certainly no trivial undertaking: it surpasses everything the human spirit can imagine or conceive. It is a matter of communication between God and humankind. He who kindled the spark entrusts to his disciples the task of spreading the fire: “Go! Make disciples of all nations: baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”: we do not often have the opportunity to dwell on this extraordinary formula of our faith. It is, in fact, the first formulation of the mystery of the Trinity: the expression “in the name of”, common in the Bible, signifies that there is indeed one God; at the same time, the three Persons are named and clearly distinguished: “ In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. If we recall that, in the Bible, the Name is the person, and that to baptise etymologically means “to immerse”, this means that Baptism literally immerses us in the Trinity. We understand Jesus’s peremptory command to his disciples: “Go”; there is urgency. How can we not be eager to see all humanity take advantage of this offer? At the same time, it must be said that this formula, so familiar to us, was a true revolution for the generation of Christ! Proof of this is that when the apostles Peter and John healed the lame man at the Beautiful Gate, the authorities immediately asked: “By what power or in whose name have you done this?” (Acts 4:7), because it was not permitted to invoke any name other than that of God. Jesus speaks precisely of God, but his statement mentions three persons, whereas God was one; the prophets had made this clear enough. The Jews’ misunderstanding of Christ’s followers is recorded here; persecution was inevitable. Jesus knows this, and he had warned them on the last evening: “ They will expel you from the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think they are offering worship to God, that is, they will think they are defending God’s honour (Jn 16:2)… And Jesus added: ‘They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me’ (Jn 16:3). The mission entrusted to the apostles truly seems like madness; but they are not alone, and this must never be forgotten. Insofar as our commitment is not our own but His, we have no reason to worry about the results: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go!” (Mt 28:18–19). In other words, it is we who go, but it is he who has all power. It is said that a few days after his election, John XXIII received a visit from a friend: “Most Holy Father,” he said, “how heavy the task must be!” John XXIII replied: “It’s true, in the evening, when I lie down, I think: ‘Angelo, you are the Pope,’ and I struggle to fall asleep; but after a few minutes I say to myself: ‘Angelo, how stupid you are, you are not the one in charge of the Church, it is the Holy Spirit.’ Then I turn over and fall asleep!” For us too, evangelisation must be our passion, not our anguish. Jesus made it quite clear: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” This sentence alone sums up the life of Christ: this takes place on a mountain, we do not know which one, but it evokes both the Mount of Temptation and the Mount of Transfiguration. On the Mount of Temptation, Jesus refused to receive power over creation from anyone other than the Father: “The devil took him up to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour, and said to him: “All these things I will give you if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus answered him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written: “You shall worship the Lord your God, and him alone shall you serve”’ (cf. Mt 4:8–10). This power, which Jesus did not claim nor purchase, is given to him by the Father. And now this power is in our hands! “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go! And Jesus adds, ‘I am with you always, even to the end of the age.’ The God of Presence revealed to Moses in the burning bush, the Emmanuel – which means ‘God with us’ – promised by Isaiah, are one in the Spirit of love that unites them. Ours is the mission to reveal to the world this loving presence of the Triune God.

Seventh Sunday in Easter  (year A)  [17 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:12–14)

The first sentence of the text sums up in a few words a crucial stage in the lives of the early Christians. For us it is the Ascension and we have made it a feast day, but, originally, was it not rather a day of mourning, a day of great departure? After the horror of Jesus’ Passion and death, after the splendour of the Resurrection, here they were, orphaned forever. But precisely for this reason they are closer to us, and their attitude can guide our own. Let us therefore look closely at their actions. Jesus had given them instructions: not to leave Jerusalem and to wait there for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Here is the account from the Acts: ‘While he was at table with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise. “‘What,’ he said, ‘you have heard from me: John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’” . And on the very day of his departure, on the Mount of Olives, he repeated: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” I dwell on this expression “the power of the Spirit”, which should reassure us in every circumstance. And Luke recounts: “Having said this, whilst they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.” Obviously, they obeyed the Master’s command. It is therefore no surprise to find them in Jerusalem shortly afterwards; Luke notes that the Mount of Olives is very close to the city: the distance does not exceed what is known as the ‘Sabbath journey’, that is, the maximum distance one may travel without violating the Sabbath rest; it was just under a kilometre, two thousand cubits, and a cubit, as the name suggests, is the length of the forearm, about fifty centimetres. But why does Luke give this precise measurement? Are we to infer that it was the Sabbath? Or, by emphasising the proximity of the Mount of Olives, does Luke wish to suggest that everything is fulfilled in Jerusalem? It is there that God’s plan is fulfilled: there the Son was glorified, there the Covenant between God and humanity was renewed, there the Spirit will be given. It is in the holy city, therefore, that the life of the nascent Church begins; and Luke lists those who make up the group: the Eleven, some women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, and some brothers, that is, probably disciples. Here too, the details are not merely anecdotal; we already knew the names of the apostles from Luke’s Gospel; if he gives us the list again, it is not to instruct us! Luke wishes to highlight the continuity within the community of the apostles: they are the very same who accompanied Jesus throughout his earthly life, and now they are committed to the mission. And they will be able to bear witness to the Resurrection only because they have been witnesses to the life, Passion and death of Jesus. We thus find again the group of people so different from one another whom Jesus had chosen: Peter, James, John and Andrew, fishermen on the Sea of Tiberias; Simon the Zealot—at the time of Jesus’ earthly life, this was not yet a political commitment, but it was already a sign of religious fanaticism. One wonders how he could stand alongside Matthew the tax collector, a tax collector in the pay of the occupying power and, for this reason, barred from worship! Not only did Jesus manage to bring them together around him, but they will now share the responsibility of continuing their Master’s mission. Christian tradition has identified Bartholomew with Nathanael, mentioned by Saint John, who was a specialist in the Law; if this were the case, it would have been a further point of diversity within the group of the Twelve. It is upon this community of men, so different from one another, that the proclamation of the Gospel now rests. A few brief observations: first of all, their group is not closed in on itself, but is already open to others, men and women; secondly, they begin this life of the Church in prayer, ‘devoted and of one accord’, as Luke emphasises. Perhaps the first miracle of the apostles is this praying together as one heart at the moment when the Master leaves them, and they find themselves seemingly left to their own devices and to their differences, which could have turned into divisions. In truth, they are only apparently left to their own devices: Jesus, though now invisible, is not absent. Matthew, in his Gospel, has preserved one of Jesus’ final words: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’ The apostles, therefore, do not pray for Jesus to draw near: his presence is assured; they pray to immerse themselves once more in his presence. This account from the Acts of the Apostles becomes for us a powerful lesson in hope: Jesus is with us always, his presence is assured, and the power of the Holy Spirit accompanies us! 

Responsorial Psalm (26/27)

This psalm is for those going through difficult times. Believers are not exempt from life’s trials, and faith is no magic wand. Sometimes they suffer precisely because of their faith, as in religious wars or persecutions, or due to the hostility of atheists and the struggle to defend Christian values in a world that does not share them. We shall find an example of this in the Letter of Saint Peter, this Sunday’s second reading. But in their trials, believers know they are not alone, abandoned to their sad fate, for they have someone to turn to: “It is to God that my eyes weep,” said Job (Job 16:20). And they go to seek strength where it is found, that is, in God. “The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?” We do not know to which specific trials this psalm alludes; incidentally, it is much longer than the few verses read here, but the missing verses provide no historical details. Here and there one senses an allusion to external attacks: “The Lord is the bulwark of my life: before whom should I tremble?”. Ever since the great adventure of the Exodus, Israel has been threatened in its very existence on numerous occasions. The first verse, “The Lord is my light and my salvation”, is probably also an allusion to the Exodus under Moses’s leadership: in the Sinai desert, the pillar of cloud lit the way and signified God’s presence. Salvation, then, meant escaping from Pharaoh; in every age, salvation takes different forms, and Israel has experienced all manner of them, evoked through allusions in the psalm. To say “The Lord is the bulwark of my life” brings to mind the long period of wars, and the best bulwark is the strength that God gives us. “If you do not believe, you will not stand firm,” Isaiah said to King Ahaz (Is 7:9). Faith is the only strength that enables us to face everything: “Whom shall I fear?”. This means that God protects us from all fear and that we do not even fear Him. In all trials and sufferings, the believer knows that they can cry out to God: indeed, it is even recommended in the Bible, for groaning, weeping and praying is not cowardly, but simply human, and it is to God that we must groan, weep and pray. “Hear, O Lord, I call upon you,” says the psalm, and of one thing the chosen people are certain: that God hears our cry. Let us think of the great revelation of the Burning Bush: “The cry of the children of Israel has come to me,” God said to Moses (Ex. 3:7–9). And from that day Israel has known that God hears the cry of those who suffer. We read in the psalm: “One thing I have asked of the Lord, this alone I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life”: like the Levite, admitted into the inner sanctum of the temple in Jerusalem, Israel asks for the grace to dwell in the presence of God. “Have mercy, answer me,” is a beggar’s cry and also a plea for forgiveness, for the expression that follows, “Seek my face,” is a call to conversion; for ever since settling in the Promised Land, the people have faced a new danger: that of unfaithfulness, that is, idolatry. However, when we read “Seek my face”, it is not God who thirsts for our homage and asks something of us for his own sake. God loves us, and all the commandments are for our happiness. St Augustine states: “Everything that man does for God benefits man and not God”. For God, the centre of the world is humanity, and He has no other purpose than our happiness—a happiness we find only when God is at the centre of our lives, for as St Augustine said: “You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” It is interesting to compare Psalm 26/27 with the Canticle of Zechariah, which we sing every morning in the Liturgy of the Hours.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (4:13–16)

In the early days of the Church, as we know from the Acts of the Apostles, the first disciples of Christ did not yet bear this name; they were called ‘Nazarenes’, because of Nazareth, and this name, used by the Jews who refused to recognise Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah awaited by Israel, was a derogatory term. Later, when Barnabas and Paul were carrying out their mission in Antioch of Syria, it was probably pagans who had not yet converted to the Christian Church who gave Jesus’ disciples the name ‘Christians’, which means ‘of Christ, belonging to Christ’. This new title of ‘Christian’ was not an honour either. The unconverted pagans viewed with suspicion the radical change of life taking place within the community of the baptised. Shortly before, in his letter, Peter writes: ‘They find it strange that you no longer rush with them towards the same torrent of perdition, and they revile you’; ‘They slander you, treating you as evildoers’. Here, Saint Peter speaks of the sufferings—that is, the misunderstanding, the isolation, the slander—of which Jesus was a victim because he continued to proclaim his message without letting anyone stop him, with that fidelity that cost him his life. In turn, the early Christians face the same hostility, and Peter seeks to give them the courage to hold firm whilst awaiting the day when the glory of Christ will be revealed—that is, the day when Jesus will come to inaugurate his kingdom among men. Peter goes even further: not only must one not be ashamed, but on the contrary, the title of ‘Christian’ is, in his eyes, the highest dignity: “Rejoice,” he tells them, because of the name ‘Christian’, which means ‘belonging to Christ’. Furthermore, when he says: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…” he is speaking of the Beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus: “Blessed are you when they revile you, persecute you and, lying, say all sorts of evil against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great!” . And Jesus, in saying this, was describing himself. Now Peter applies this description to those who, in turn, bear the name of Christ. He even says that “you share in the sufferings of Christ”, which means: “rejoice because you are intimately united with Christ in these sufferings you endure to remain faithful to his name and his mission. And since you are united to his sufferings, you will likewise be united to his glory on the day when the truth will burst forth.” It is clear, however, that suffering is not an end in itself, but the goal is to be united to Christ and to God in the Spirit of love, whatever the circumstances—happy or unhappy—may be in our lives. And Peter points to a way of facing persecution for the sake of Christ’s name: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…”. Here is a proclamation and an encouragement, for the day will come when Christ will be recognised by all, and you along with him; and on that day it will be recognised that you were not mistaken because Christ had deceived you. We therefore need the courage to persevere, for you have chosen the right path. The Book of Acts recounts that after being flogged, Peter and John “left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus”. Peter was only able to do this after Pentecost: one must be filled with the Spirit of Jesus to have the courage to face persecution in his name and to know that mysterious joy of being in communion with him, even in suffering, that joy which no one can take from us! The Church offers us this text from Peter as we await Pentecost, a special time for rediscovering the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of our communities. 

From the Gospel according to John (17:1b-11a)

These final words of Jesus: “I am coming to you” mysteriously draw us into Jesus’ prayer at the very moment he is about to reach the Father: “I am coming to you”. It is the Hour of the great passage: “Father, the hour has come”, that Hour of which he spoke many times during his earthly life, that Hour which he seemed both to desire and to fear. It is the decisive Hour, central to all human history, the Hour which all creation awaits as a birth: for it is the Hour of the fulfilment of God’s plan. From now on, nothing will ever be the same again. In this decisive Hour, the mystery of the Father will finally be revealed to the world: this is why Jesus repeatedly uses the words “glory” and “glorify”. A person’s glory, in the biblical sense, is not their fame or the recognition of others; it is their true worth. The glory of God is therefore God Himself, who reveals Himself to mankind in all the splendour of His holiness. The verb ‘to glorify’ can be replaced with ‘to reveal’. In this decisive Hour, God will be glorified, revealed in the Son, and believers will finally ‘know’ the Father; they will enter into that intimacy which unites the Son to the Father, and which the Son communicates to mankind. Those who accept this revelation and believe in Jesus will enter into this intimacy with the Father: they will enter into true life: “Eternal life is that they may know you, the one true God, and the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ”. Here, from the very mouth of Jesus, is a definition of eternal life: Jesus speaks in the present tense and describes eternal life as the state of those who know God and Christ. We already live this life from the moment of our Baptism. Speaking of his disciples, Jesus says: “They have truly known that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me.”  At that moment, only a portion of humanity received this revelation and entered into the communion of love offered by the Father, accepting to take the path opened by the Son; and it is for these few alone that Jesus prays: “I pray for them; I do not pray for the world, but for those whom you have given me…” It is the mystery of God’s choices that is repeated: just as the Father had chosen Abraham to reveal his great plan to him, he chose certain members of Abraham’s lineage to bring the revelation of his mystery to fulfilment: “I have made your name known to the people you have given me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you…” . For this small chosen people, the hour has come to continue the work of revelation: “I am no longer in the world; they, however, are in the world, and I am coming to you.” Jesus passes the baton to us in a way: he has given us everything; now it is up to us to give it to others. We must let Jesus’ insistence on the word “give” resound within us: the Father has given authority to the Son… the Son will give eternal life to mankind… the Father has given mankind to the Son… the Father has given his words to the Son… and the Son has given these words to his brothers. Jesus’ emphasis on the verb ‘to give’ permeates the entire biblical meditation: our relationship with God is not a matter of calculation. It is enough for us to allow ourselves to be loved and continually filled with his grace. The word ‘grace’ means a free gift. The logic of the gift, of gratuitousness, is that of the Son who lives eternally in a dialogue of love with the Father. In the prologue to his Gospel, John says that the Son is eternally ‘turned towards the Father’ (Jn 1:18) (“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the Father’s bosom, he has made him known.” The expression “in the Father’s bosom” (from the Greek eis ton kolpon tou Patros) is interpreted as: “turned towards the Father”, “in intimate communion with the Father”, “in the Father’s intimacy”. Thus the idea that the Son is eternally “turned towards the Father” arises from this verse, even though the expression “turned towards the Father” is a theological paraphrase, not a literal quotation. And since there is no shadow between them, he reflects the Father’s glory: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”. Between them, everything is love, dialogue, sharing: “All that is mine is yours, and all that is yours is mine”. The Prologue of John’s Gospel is illuminated by the reading of this prayer of Jesus; it is, as it were, its transposition (Jn 1:1–18).

+Giovanni D’Ercole

«A very short time»: we are not in the waiting room

(Jn 16:16-20)

The human communion of the first disciples with the Master was suggestive, not exhaustive. It must now be renewed.

This takes place in the Jesus’ passage from the world to the Father. Thus in the journey and dialogue outside all circles, to which the apostles themselves are called.

The earthly separation from the Lord was dramatic. But today too we are driven to live and grow in the 'outgoing Church'.

A shift that forces the faithful in Christ to move from community sisters and brothers to an all-encompassing relationship with the human family.

The immediate perception would become unbreakable: Jesus must go and leave us alone so that we can enter the Mystery, in search.

So that it is the Risen One and the totally Other to emerge in this detachment, in the mist and night of the reiterated Exodus, all real and all new.

For us too, certainty becomes a problem; stability knows shocks.

We are not protégés - as in pagan religion, where the gods descended into our difficulties and sided with friends.

There is a severance from representations of God, even from our common way of thinking of the Risen One.

He becomes an echo of the soul - leading. And he becomes 'body', that is, Church; as well as “call” to the shattering of idols, to outgoing witness.

The evangelizing activity of the genuine apostles goes hand in hand with the Lord, and reflects His events, teaching, and type of confrontations.

In this way, the Living One becomes present and active in us, seamlessly.

Jn reflects a question-and-answer catechesis addressed to those who could not understand the meaning of the Master's death and asked for explanations.

Well: «a very short time» or «within a short time» are expressions that reaffirm and mark the continuity between the experience of physical closeness to Jesus and the ‘vision’ of the Risen One.

Transfigured and Lord in-us, He is the same Master that we recognize in His earthly life, including the less happy aspects. E.g. of rejection, denunciation, reproach.

Just like one who does not know how to be in the world.

These are priceless moments: times of rediscovery of cosmic and divine nearness, obviously purified of illusions of glory or social conformity.

Despite hostile environment, the inner situation of the disciple does not change: it is one of ‘permanent unity’ and is not interrupted, indeed it becomes more incisive and goal-directed.

Faith is penetrating Relationship: even today, no longer linked to feeling, ritual experience, or the signs of an established civitas christiana - but to the sharpness and incisiveness of personal adhesion.

Does He sometimes seem to vanish? Immediately after a doubt arises, everything is turned upside down.

Frankness in the harsh confrontation with established power or conformist ideas makes Him suddenly Present.

Alive and pungent, but astonishing.

It is true: when everything smacks of sadness and trial, in an instant the situation is reversed.

It is the moment of profound Happiness: of the ‘vision’ of the [invisible] Friend manifesting Himself in his Wisdom and concrete strength.

Incarnation that continues in the critical witnesses and in the assemblies that are configured as the luminous awakening of the Lord.

They face the same Passion of love and do not shy away from problems: they make them flourish as God's vital Newness.

[Thursday 6.a wk. in Easter, May 14, 2026]

«A very short time»: we are not in the waiting room

(Jn 16:16-20)

The human communion of the first disciples with the Master was suggestive, not exhaustive. It must now be renewed.

This takes place in the passage of Jesus from the world to the Father. Therefore in the journey and dialogue outside any circle, to which the apostles themselves are called.

The earthly separation from the Lord was dramatic. But even today we are impelled to live and grow in the 'outgoing Church'.

A shift that obliges the faithful in Christ to move from community brothers and sisters to an all-encompassing relationship with the human family.

The immediate perception would become unbreakable: Jesus must go and leave us alone so that we enter the Mystery, in search.

This is so that it is the Risen One and the totally Other that emerges in this detachment, in the mist and night of the reaffirmed Exodus, all real and all new.

For us too, certainty becomes a problem; stability knows shocks. 

We are not protégés - as in pagan religion, where the gods descended into difficulties and sided with their friends.

There is a detachment from representations of God, even from our common way of thinking of the Risen One.

He becomes an echo of the soul, guiding. And it becomes 'body' i.e. Church; as well as 'call' to the shattering of idols, to outgoing witness.

The evangelising activity of the genuine apostles goes hand in hand with the Lord, and reflects his events, his teaching, his type of confrontations.

In this way, the Living One becomes present and active in us, seamlessly.

Certainly, the approaching events take on their own configuration - each time particular.

But for Faith in the victory of life over death, we understand: everything is configured in the ways that allow us to express the deepest core of being, our feeling called.

Fontal, authentic joy.

As disciples, we unfold the Risen One in the history of each one: death resurrection manifestations... personal, unprecedented even in the sign of travails - for each believer.

In such a typically Johannine perspective (and practical action) the death-resurrection, the glorification at the right hand of the Father [Ascension] and the Gift of the Spirit become simultaneous.

Like a 'new order' of things [so-called Return to the End of Time].

In short, the integral event of the humanising Messiah allows the believer to feel in communion with God, and united to the Son - without any caesura or temporal delay.

The Faith-Vision catches the innovative and creative Spirit of the Father at work, to build the definitive world.

Therefore, the Judgement from the Cross is now, it will not take place after a nerve-wracking wait, in a distant moment.

Church Time thus does not become 'intermediate'. Nor can it justify dark and empty forms of spirituality.

The impact with the divine challenges and exposes. Yet it possesses its own, unique density.

The tribulations would be there - even very serious, full of embarrassment and unprecedented - but they would drag the consciences far beyond the bewilderment and the sudden unfulfilling.

In the experience of the envoys, placed face to face with the Mission, the enigmatic 'in a little while' would have nothing impenetrable about it.

We 'see' it in the Spirit, but not only in the heart.

It is for an Announcement together - without intimism. Free relationship with reality and the Living One, 'from' ourselves.

Jn reflects a question-and-answer catechesis addressed to those who could not understand the meaning of the Master's death and asked for explanations.

The masters of the ancient religion of consensus rejoiced at the disappearance of that subversive and heretic who instead of keeping quiet and making a career had been a thorn in the side of their prestige - and earnings - finally done away with and shamed.

By now a failure and rejection even by God.

Well, "a very short time" or "within a short time" are expressions that reaffirm and mark the continuity between the experience of physical closeness with Jesus and the 'vision' of the Risen One.

Transfigured and Lord-in-us, it is the same Master that we recognise in his earthly life, including the less happy aspects. E.g. of rejection, denunciation, rebuke.

Just like one who does not know how to be in the world.

These are priceless moments: times of rediscovery of cosmic and divine closeness, obviously purified of illusions of glory or social conformity.

Despite the hostile environment, the disciple's inner situation does not change: it is one of permanent unity and is not interrupted, indeed it becomes more incisive and goal-directed.

Faith is a penetrating relationship: even today, no longer linked to feeling, ritual experience, or the signs of a monopolistic and consolidated civitas christiana - but to the acuity and incisiveness of personal adhesion.

Does it sometimes seem to vanish? Immediately after a doubt arises, everything is turned upside down.The frankness in the harsh confrontation with established power or the ideas of devotion good for festivals and all seasons, makes Him suddenly Present.

Vivid and uncomfortable, but astonishing.

It is true: when everything smacks of sadness and trial, in an instant the situation is reversed.

It is the moment of profound Happiness: of the Vision of the invisible Friend manifesting Himself in His real Wisdom and strength.

Incarnation that continues in the critical witnesses and assemblies that take the form of the Lord's luminous Awakening.

They face the same Passion of love and do not shy away from problems: they make them flourish as the vital Newness of God.

To internalise and live the message:

Is your testimony diluted and sleepy, or is it intense, insightful, pungent?

1. Listening to the words of Psalm 126[125], one has the impression of seeing before one's eyes the event of the "new Exodus" that is sung of in the second part of the Book of Isaiah: the return of Israel from the Babylonian Exile to the land of her fathers after the edict of the Persian King Cyrus in 538 B.C. It was thus a repetition of the joyful experience of the first Exodus, when the Jewish people were released from slavery in Egypt.

This Psalm acquired special significance when it was sung on the days when Israel felt threatened and afraid because she was once again being put to the test. Effectively, the Psalm contains a prayer for the return of the captives of that time (cf. v. 4). Thus, it became a prayer of the People of God in their historical wanderings, fraught with dangers and trials but ever open to trust in God the Saviour and Liberator, the support of the weak and the oppressed.

2. The Psalm introduces us into an atmosphere of exultation: people were laughing, celebrating their new-found freedom, and songs of joy were on their lips (cf. vv. 1-2).
There is a twofold reaction to the restored freedom.

On the one hand, the heathen nations recognized the greatness of the God of Israel: "What marvels the Lord worked for them!" (v. 2). The salvation of the Chosen People becomes a clear proof of the effective and powerful existence of God, present and active in history.

On the other hand, it is the People of God who profess their faith in the Lord who saves: "What marvels the Lord worked for us!" (v. 3).

3. Our thoughts then turn to the past, relived with a shudder of fear and affliction. Let us focus our attention on the agricultural image used by the Psalmist: "Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap" (v. 5). Under the burden of work, their faces are sometimes lined with tears: the sowing is laborious, perhaps doomed to uselessness and failure. But with the coming of the abundant, joyful harvest, they discover that their suffering has borne fruit.

The great lesson on the mystery of life's fruitfulness that suffering can contain is condensed in this Psalm, just as Jesus said on the threshold of his passion and death: "Unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat. But if it dies, it produces much fruit" (Jn 12: 24).

4. Thus, the horizon of the Psalm opens to the festive harvest, a symbol of joy born from the freedom, peace and prosperity that are fruits of the divine blessing. This prayer, then, is a song of hope to turn back to when one is immersed in moments of trial, fear, threats and inner oppression.

But it can also become a more general appeal to live one's days and make one's decisions in an atmosphere of faithfulness. In the end, perseverance in good, even if it is misunderstood and opposed, always reaches a landing place of light, fruitfulness and peace.

This is what St Paul reminded the Galatians: "If [a man] sows in the field of the flesh, he will reap a harvest of corruption; but if his seed-ground is the spirit, he will reap everlasting life. Let us not grow weary of doing good; if we do not relax our efforts, in due time we shall reap our harvest" (Gal 6: 8-9).

5. Let us end with a reflection on Psalm 126[125] by St Bede the Venerable (672/3-735), commenting on the words by which Jesus announced to his disciples the sorrow that lay in store for them, and at the same time the joy that would spring from their affliction (cf. Jn 16: 20).

Bede recalls that "Those who loved Christ were weeping and mourning when they saw him captured by his enemies, bound, carried away for judgment, condemned, scourged, mocked and lastly crucified, pierced by the spear and buried. Instead, those who loved the world rejoiced... when they condemned to a most ignominious death the One of whom the sight alone they could not tolerate. The disciples were overcome by grief at the death of the Lord, but once they had learned of his Resurrection, their sorrow changed to joy; then when they had seen the miracle of the Ascension, they praised and blessed the Lord, filled with even greater joy, as the Evangelist Luke testified (cf. Lk 24: 53).

"But the Lord's words can be applied to all the faithful who, through the tears and afflictions of this world, seek to arrive at eternal jubilation and rightly weep and grieve now, because they cannot yet see the One they love and because they know that while they are in the body they are far from the Homeland and the Kingdom, even if they are certain that they will reach it with their efforts and struggles. Their sorrow will change into joy when, after the struggle of this life, they receive the reward of eternal life, as the Psalm says: "Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap' (Homily on the Gospel, 2, 13: Collana dei Testi Patristici, XC, Rome, 1990, pp. 379-380).

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 17 August 2005]

To the disciples Jesus addresses the invitation to rejoice, to overcome the temptation of sadness for the departure of the Master, because this departure is a condition laid down in the divine plan for the coming of the Holy Spirit: "It is good for you that I go away, because if I do not go away the Paraclete will not come to you; but when I have gone away, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). It will be the gift of the Spirit that will bring the disciples great joy, indeed the fullness of joy, according to the intention expressed by Jesus. After inviting the disciples to remain in his love, the Saviour said: "This I have spoken to you that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full" (Jn 15:11; cf. Jn 17:13). It is the Holy Spirit who puts into the hearts of the disciples the same joy as Jesus, the joy of faithfulness to the love that comes from the Father.

St Luke records that the disciples, who at the time of the Ascension had received the promise of the gift of the Holy Spirit, "returned to Jerusalem with great joy and were always in the temple praising God" (Lk 24:52-53). In the Acts of the Apostles it appears that, after Pentecost, a climate of profound joy was created in the Apostles, which was communicated to the community in the form of exultation and enthusiasm in embracing the faith, receiving baptism, and living together, as evidenced by "taking meals with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and enjoying the sympathy of all the people" (Acts 2:46-47). The book of Acts notes: "The disciples were filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 13, 52).

6. Soon would come the tribulations and persecutions foretold by Jesus in announcing the coming of the Paraclete-Consoler (cf. Jn 16:1ff). But according to Acts, joy endures even in trial: we read that the Apostles, when they were brought before the Sanhedrin, flogged, admonished and sent home, returned "rejoicing that they had been outraged for the sake of the name of Jesus. And every day, in the temple and at home, they did not cease to teach and to bring the good news that Jesus is the Christ" (Acts 5:41-42).

This, after all, is the condition and lot of Christians, as St Paul reminds the Thessalonians: "You have become imitators of us and of the Lord, having received the word with the joy of the Holy Spirit even in the midst of great tribulation" (1 Thess 1:6). Christians, according to Paul, repeat in themselves the paschal mystery of Christ, which has the Cross as its pivot. But its crowning glory is the "joy of the Holy Spirit" for those who persevere in trials. This is the joy of the beatitudes, and more particularly the beatitude of the afflicted, and of the persecuted (cf. Mt 5:4, 10-12). Did not the Apostle Paul say: 'I rejoice in the sufferings I endure for you . . ." (Col 1:24)? And Peter, for his part, exhorted: "Inasmuch as you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice, that in the revelation of his glory you may also rejoice and exult" (1 Pet 4:13).

Let us pray to the Holy Spirit to kindle in us more and more the desire for heavenly goods and make us one day enjoy their fullness: "Give virtue and reward, give holy death, give eternal joy.

Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 19 June 1991]

To break the forced laughter of "a non-joyful culture that invents everything to have a good time", offering "bits of sweet life everywhere", the true joy of the Christian takes care of it. Which "cannot be bought at the market" but is "a gift of the Spirit", guarded by faith and always "in tension between the memory of salvation and hope". It was all about joy as the authentic "breath of the Christian" in the homily delivered by Pope Francis during the mass on Monday 28 May at Santa Marta.

Taking his cue from the Gospel passage from Mark (10:17-27), the Pontiff pointed out that "this young man who wanted to go on in the life of service to God, who had always lived according to the commandments and also who was able to draw Jesus' love to himself, when he heard the condition that Jesus gave him "became dark in the face and went away saddened"". In practice 'the attitude, the attitude, the roots of his personality came out of his heart'. As if to say: 'Yes, I want to follow the Lord, go with the Lord, but don't touch riches'. Because, the Pope insisted, that young man "was imprisoned in riches, he was not free and for this reason he went away sad".

"Instead, in the first reading St Peter speaks to us of joy, not sadness but Christian joy," the Pontiff continued, recalling the passage from the apostle's first letter (1, 3-9). "This young man went away sad because he was not free, he was a slave," he explained. And "St Peter tells us: 'be filled with joy', exult with joy". Peter's expression is "strong": "Fill with joy, exult with joy".

But "what is joy?" asked Francis, referring to that joy "which Peter asks us to have and which the young man could not have because he was a prisoner of other interests". The Pope defined 'Christian joy' as 'the breath of the Christian'. Because 'a Christian who is not joyful in heart,' he said, 'is not a good Christian'.

Joy then, said the Pontiff, 'is the breath, the way of expression of the Christian'. Moreover, he noted, joy 'is not something you buy or I make with effort: no, it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit'. Because, he recalled, what causes "joy in the heart is the Holy Spirit". There is 'Christian joy if we are in tension between the memory - the memory of being regenerated, as St Peter says, that Jesus saved us - and the hope of what awaits us'. And 'when a person is in this tension, he is joyful'.

But, the Pope warned, "if we forget what the Lord has done for us, to give life, to regenerate us - the word is strong, 'regenerate us', a new creation as the liturgy says - and if we do not look at what awaits us, the encounter with Jesus Christ, if we have no memory, no hope, we cannot have joy". Perhaps 'we have smiles, yes, but joy, no'.

Moreover, Francis reiterated, "one cannot live Christianly without joy, at least in its first degree, which is peace". In fact 'the first step of joy is peace: yes, when trials come, as St Peter says, one suffers; but one comes down and finds peace and that peace no one can take away'. That is why 'the Christian is a man, a woman of joy, a man, a woman of consolation: he knows how to live in consolation, the consolation of the memory of being regenerated and the consolation of the hope that awaits us'. Precisely 'these two make that Christian joy and attitude'.

"Joy is not living from laughter to laughter, no, it is not that," the Pontiff warned. And "joy," he added, "is not being fun, no, it is not that, it is something else". Because "Christian joy is peace, the peace that is in the roots, the peace of the heart, the peace that only God can give us: this is Christian joy". The Pope pointed out that 'it is not easy to preserve this joy'. And 'the Apostle Peter says that it is faith that keeps it: I believe that God has regenerated me, I believe that he will give me that prize'. Precisely 'this is faith, and with this faith you keep joy, you keep consolation'. So 'joy, consolation, but only faith can keep it'.

"We," the Pope acknowledged, "live in a culture that is not joyful, a culture where so many things are invented to amuse us, to have a good time; they offer us little bits of sweet life everywhere". But 'this is not joy,' he explained, 'because joy is not something you buy in the marketplace: it is a gift of the Spirit'.

With this in mind, Francis suggested looking inside oneself, asking oneself: 'What is my heart like? Is it peaceful, is it joyful, is it in consolation?". What's more, the Pontiff relaunched, 'even in the moment of disturbance, in the moment of trial, that heart of mine is a heart that is not restless well, with that restlessness that is not good: there is a good restlessness but there is another that is not good, that of seeking security everywhere, that of seeking pleasure everywhere'. Like 'the young man in the Gospel: he was afraid that if he left the riches he would not be happy'.

Therefore 'joy, consolation' are 'our breath as Christians'. And so, Francis suggested, "let us ask the Holy Spirit to always give us this inner peace, that joy that comes from remembering our salvation, our regeneration and the hope of what awaits us". Because "only in this way can one say 'I am a Christian'". Indeed, there cannot be "a dark, saddened Christian, like this young man who 'at these words became dark in the face, went away saddened'". He certainly "was not a Christian: he wanted to be close to Jesus but he chose his own security, not the security that Jesus gives".

For this reason, the Pope concluded, "we ask the Holy Spirit to give us joy, to give us consolation, at least in the first degree: peace". Aware that "being a man and a woman of joy means being a man and a woman of peace, it means being a man and a woman of consolation: may the Holy Spirit give us this."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 29/05/2018].

Without fear

Fear and sadness make people and even the Church sick, because they paralyse, make them self-centred and end up spoiling the air of communities that display the 'forbidden' sign on the door because they are afraid of everything. Instead, it is joy, which in sorrow comes to be peace, the courageous attitude of the Christian, sustained by the fear of God and the Holy Spirit. This is what the Pope said in the Mass celebrated on Friday 15 May in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta.

In the liturgy of the word, Francis was quick to point out, commenting on the day's readings, "there are two strong words that the Church makes us meditate on: fear and joy. And so - we read in the Acts of the Apostles (18:9-18) - the Lord says to Paul: "Do not be afraid; keep speaking".

"Fear," the Pope explained, "is an attitude that hurts us, weakens us, shrinks us, even paralyses us". So much so that "a person under fear does nothing, does not know what to do: he is fearful, fearful, concentrated on himself so that something bad, ugly does not happen to him". Therefore "fear leads to selfish egocentrism and paralyses". Precisely "for this reason Jesus says to Paul: do not be afraid, continue to speak".

Fear, in fact, 'is not a Christian attitude', but 'is an attitude, we might say, of an imprisoned soul, without freedom, which has no freedom to look forward, to create something, to do good'. And so those who are afraid keep repeating: 'No, there is this danger, there is that other, that other', and so on. "What a pity, fear hurts!" commented Francis again.

Fear, however, 'must be distinguished from the fear of God, with which it has nothing to do'. The fear of God, said the Pontiff, 'is holy, it is the fear of adoration before the Lord, and the fear of God is a virtue'. It, in fact, 'does not shrink, it does not weaken, it does not paralyse'; on the contrary, 'it leads forward towards the mission that the Lord gives'. And in this regard, the Pontiff added: "The Lord, in chapter 18 of Luke's Gospel, speaks of a judge who did not fear God or have regard for anyone, and did whatever he wanted". This "is a sin: the lack of fear of God and also self-sufficiency". Because "it distracts from the relationship with God and also from adoration".

Therefore, Francis said, 'the fear of God, which is good, is one thing; but fear is another thing'. And "a fearful Christian is little: he is someone who has not understood what the message of Jesus is".

The "other word" proposed by the liturgy, "after the Ascension of the Lord", is "joy". In the Gospel passage from John (16:20-23), "the Lord speaks of the passage from sadness to joy", preparing the disciples "for the moment of passion: 'You will weep and wail, but the world will rejoice. You will be in sadness, but your sadness will be changed into joy'". Jesus suggests "the example of the woman at the moment of childbirth, who has much pain but afterwards, when the child is born, she forgets about the pain" to make room for joy. "And no one will be able to take your joy away from you," the Lord therefore assures.

But "Christian joy," the Pope warned, "is not mere amusement, it is not a passing joy". Rather, "Christian joy is a gift of the Holy Spirit: it is having a heart that is always joyful because the Lord has overcome, the Lord reigns, the Lord is at the right hand of the Father, the Lord has looked upon me and sent me and given me his grace and made me a son of the Father". This is what 'Christian joy' really is.A Christian, therefore, 'lives in joy'. But, Francis asked, "where is this joy in the saddest moments, in moments of sorrow? Let us think of Jesus on the Cross: did he have joy? Eh no! But yes, he had peace!". In fact, the Pope explained, "joy, in the moment of pain, of trial, becomes peace". Instead, "a joy in the moment of pain becomes darkness, becomes gloom".

That is why 'a Christian without joy is not a Christian; a Christian who lives continuously in sadness is not a Christian'. To "a Christian who loses peace, in the moment of trials, of sickness, of so many difficulties, something is missing".

Francis invited people to "have no fear and have joy", explaining: "To have no fear is to ask for the grace of courage, the courage of the Holy Spirit; and to have joy is to ask for the gift of the Holy Spirit, even in the most difficult moments, with that peace that the Lord gives us".

This is what 'happens in Christians, happens in communities, in the whole Church, in parishes, in many Christian communities'. In fact, "there are fearful communities, who always play it safe: 'No, no, let's not do this...'. No, no, this cannot be done, this cannot be done'". So much so that "it seems that on the entrance door they have written 'forbidden': everything is forbidden out of fear". So 'when you enter that community the air is foul, because the community is sick: fear sickens a community; lack of courage sickens a community'.

But 'even a community without joy is a sick community, because when there is no joy there is emptiness. No, on the contrary: there is fun'. And so, at the end of the day, "it will be a beautiful community that is fun, but worldly, sick of worldliness because it does not have the joy of Jesus Christ". And 'one effect, among others, of worldliness,' the Pontiff warned, 'is to speak ill of others'. Therefore, 'when the Church is fearful and when the Church does not receive the joy of the Holy Spirit, the Church becomes sick, communities become sick, the faithful become sick'.

In the prayer at the beginning of Mass, the Pope recalled, 'we asked the Lord for the grace to lift us up to Christ seated at the right hand of the Father'. It is precisely "the contemplation of Christ seated at the right hand of the Father," he said, "that will give us courage, give us joy, take away our fear, and also help us not to fall into a superficial and amusing life".

"With this intention of raising our spirit towards Christ seated at the right hand of the Father," Francis concluded, "we continue our celebration, asking the Lord: raise our spirit, take away all fear and give us joy and peace.

[Pope Francis, homily s. Marta 15 May 2015; (from: L'Osservatore Romano, daily ed., Anno CLV, no.109, 16/05/2015)]

6th Easter Sunday (year A)  [10 May 2026] 

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (8:5–8, 14–17)

Let me return to the first sentence: ‘Philip, one of the Seven’, that is, one of the seven men appointed to organise the distribution of food in Jerusalem. In practical terms, the issue was ensuring a fair distribution of what amounted to a food bank for widows. Last Sunday we saw that a problem had arisen among the very first Christians. After Jesus’ Resurrection, all those who followed the apostles and asked for baptism were Jews, either by birth or converts to Judaism (those known as proselytes). But there were already great differences amongst them. Among these Jews, some were originally from Israel, and in particular from Jerusalem, and spoke Hebrew in the synagogue and Aramaic on the street: they were called Jews. The others were from the Diaspora, that is, the rest of the Roman Empire: they spoke Greek and were called Hellenists. For the celebration of the Sabbath, all Jews, whether they had become Christians or not, would go to the synagogues: Jews on one side, Hellenists on the other. But for Christian celebrations, the Jews who had become Christians would gather in private homes, Hellenists and Jews together. It was in the context of these Christian celebrations that a first dispute broke out between these two groups of Christians, concerning the aid given to widows. And, to resolve it, seven men were appointed to be in charge of the distribution of food (today we might say ‘material matters’). That was last Sunday’s reading. Among these seven men, Stephen and Philip—both Jews who had recently become Christians—were ardent, fervent Hellenists and were likely recognised as leaders; they sought to convert to Jesus Christ the Jews who attended the synagogues where Greek was spoken, and it was there that a second dispute arose. Not a dispute between Christians of different origins, but a far more serious one between Hellenistic Jews (that is, Jews of the Diaspora): a dispute pitting those who believe in Jesus of Nazareth, the unrecognised Messiah, crucified and risen, against those who continue to think that Jesus was nothing but an impostor. And that is where the first persecution begins: the Jews who refuse to believe in Jesus Christ attack their Jewish brothers who have become Christians. Stephen is martyred: denounced by Hellenistic Jews to the authorities in Jerusalem, he is arrested and executed. Stephen’s martyrdom does not quell the fury of his opponents; on the contrary, they will turn their wrath upon the other Christians in Stephen’s group. This very first persecution does not target Jesus’s direct apostles—Peter, John, James and the others who are part of the Jewish group; it targets only the Hellenists. Thus, Jesus’ apostles were not disturbed and remained in Jerusalem, continuing to practise the Jewish religion whilst preaching in the name of Jesus. Instead, out of prudence, the Hellenist group dispersed: those most at risk moved away, but naturally, wherever they went, they spoke of the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth. And so, thanks to the persecution, the Good News spreads beyond Jerusalem and reaches the other cities of Judea and Samaria. Later, people will recall Jesus’ final words on the day of the Ascension: ‘You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8). This is exactly what is happening: paradoxically, it is this trial—the persecution and scattering of the community—that allows evangelisation to gain ground. This is why Philip went down to Samaria, and instead of hiding, he began to preach, quickly going beyond the mission entrusted to him. At first, Philip was chosen to be one of the Seven charged with the service of the widows’ tables in Jerusalem, and we find him preaching in Samaria. At the same time, he remains visibly in contact with those who entrusted him with his mission, for the Jerusalem community sends Peter and John to him, who will in a sense authenticate the work accomplished by Philip. This takes place in Samaria, and we know just how much the people of Jerusalem despised the Samaritans: they regarded them as heretics; for centuries, Jews and Samaritans had carefully nurtured their quarrels and mutual contempt. Philip is not troubled by these old quarrels: he, the man of the Diaspora, is undoubtedly far removed from these theological disputes and, in any case, thanks to him, the Gospel has just crossed the boundaries of the synagogue. Instead, he emphasises the joy of the Samaritans in receiving the Good News 

Responsorial Psalm (65/66) 

We have heard only a few verses of the twenty that make up Psalm 65/66, yet the long journey of the faithful is summarised here in three stages. The first is suggested in verse 6 with the reference to the Exodus, the departure from Egypt with Moses: “He turned the sea into dry land”, then the entry into the Promised Land under the guidance of Joshua, with the miracle of the drying up of the Jordan: “They crossed the river on dry ground”. When one reads the Psalms carefully, one is struck by the abundance of echoes of the Exodus, which is the foundation of Israel’s faith experience and thus of its hope. In the second stage, the psalmist invites his contemporaries to prayer, praise and the sharing of the faith experience: “Come, listen, all you who fear God; I will tell you what he has done for my soul” . Third stage: the whole earth is invited to join in the praise of God: “Praise God, all the earth; celebrate the glory of his name, glorify him by singing his praises. Say to God: How awesome are your works!” It is not the first time that Israel’s prayer has expanded to encompass the whole earth, that is, all humanity. The chosen people have come to understand over time that their mission is to bring all peoples into the joy of God. Isaiah says: “My house shall be called a ‘House of prayer for all peoples’” (Is 56:7). In the psalm, one already senses a kind of anticipation of that day, as if all peoples were already part of the procession of pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem: ‘The whole earth bows down before you, sings to you, sings to your name.’ This psalm looks at once to the past, the present and the future... In the past, God freed his people from slavery in Egypt. Today, he liberates at every moment those who allow him to act; in the future, all humanity will be definitively freed from the chains that currently bind it in fear and war. This psalm thus introduces us to what the historical dimension of the faith experience represents for the Jewish people. And, as always in the biblical world, the collective dimension takes precedence over the individual experience. From the earliest age, the Jewish child shares in the memory of his people: daily prayers, the Sabbath, festivals and pilgrimages evoke a collective memory into which the child is gradually immersed; he hears adults singing the glory of God and recounting His mighty deeds countless times, and one day, in turn, quite naturally, he too will take up the baton. They hear their elders say: “Blessed be God who has not rejected my prayer, nor turned his love away from me.” They will remember the deeds of God who freed their ancestors from slavery in Egypt: He turned the sea into dry land, and they crossed the river on dry ground. The adults’ day, from morning prayer to evening prayer, passing through meals and all the acts of daily life, is steeped in this memory of the God who frees from all bondage. The Jewish child enters quite naturally into the ‘memory’ of his people, but all this presupposes family life and a strong sense of belonging to a people.  Here, perhaps, lies one of the keys to our problems in passing on the faith: it is precisely this collective memory that is lacking in many of our young Christians. The memory of a people is not a matter for religious education classes, however excellent they may be, but a matter of community life, of repeated rituals, of slow assimilation; and we can clearly see how grave the dangers of individualism are. At the same time, we know what remains for us to do if we wish to pass on the faith to the new generations: it is urgent that we return to imbuing the whole of family life with this faith-filled memory and give renewed vigour to our Christian communities.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (3:15–18)

Reading between the lines of this text, one can imagine that Peter’s listeners were suffering harassment and ridicule at the hands of the pagans; not overt persecution, but latent hostility, and they had to explain time and again why they rejected certain pagan practices, such as sacrifices to pagan deities. Peter tells them: ‘Brothers, it is now your turn to behave as Christ behaved. He too faced accusations, slander and threats, yet he did not waver; now it is your turn, and you must be able to stand firm against your adversaries.

Where will this steadfast courage come from? Christians have but one source, one argument, one message: Christ died and rose again. Peter says nothing else: “Worship the Lord, Christ, in your hearts… For Christ too died once and for all for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you back to God; put to death in the body, but made alive in the spirit”. The body, the flesh, in biblical language, signify human weakness, the fact of being mortal. It is difficult for enemies to understand that Jesus died and rose again. Christians explained that, because he was filled with the Spirit of God, death could not hold him in its power, and the Spirit enabled him to pass through biological death and brought life to him—the gift of the Spirit of life which had been manifested upon him on the day of Jesus’ Baptism. This same Spirit, who entered us through Baptism, enables us to overcome evil, hatred and sadness, and this is our hope—the hope of which Peter says we must give an account at all times. Christ had said to the Apostles: “Take heart; I have overcome the world.” The witness the world expects from us is that evil is not inevitable, and for this reason we must never give up in the face of evil, hatred and violence. Christ suffered for our sins once and for all, and the expression ‘once and for all’ is a cry of victory: the world of evil and sin is definitively conquered through the obedience of the Son. Peter strongly links the two aspects of Christian witness: prayer is what takes place in the secret of the heart, and then there is the public courage of witness; the first cannot exist without the other. “Worship the holiness of Christ in your hearts” is what takes place in the secret of prayer, from which we shall draw the boldness needed to proclaim our hope through our lives: “Always be ready to give an answer to anyone who asks you to give an account of the hope that is within you.” Peter advises us not to speak first, but to be ready to answer the questions of those who ask. This phrase comes to mind: “Do not speak unless you are asked, but live in such a way that they ask you.” If life becomes a true witness to hope, those who meet you will wonder where such indestructible hope comes from. It is therefore not possible to bear witness to Jesus unless we live this hope, which means that witness is given first and foremost through deeds and not through words. Jesus says: “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Mt 5:16). Saint Paul VI noted that our contemporaries seek witnesses, not teachers… and they listen to teachers only if they are witnesses. A witness given with “gentleness and respect”, Pietro emphasises, which must never desert us so that “those who slander our good conduct in Christ may be put to shame”. 

From the Gospel according to John (14:15–21)

On the evening of Holy Thursday, after the washing of the feet, Jesus speaks at length with his disciples for the last time. He speaks of the Father and of the relationship that unites him, the Son, to the Father, but he also speaks of the bond that now unites the apostles to his Father and to him. A bond that nothing and no one can destroy: “I am in my Father, you are in me and I am in you… Whoever loves me will be loved by my Father”.

And as he prepares to leave them, he announces the coming of the Spirit. The apostles recalled the prophecies of Ezekiel: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you” (Ezek 36:26) and “I will no longer hide my face from them, for I will have poured out my Spirit upon the house of Israel” (Ezek 39:29). With Joel, the promise of the gift of the Spirit had become universal: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (Joel 3:1). When Jesus says, “The Spirit of truth remains with you, and will be in you”, he announces that the great day of the definitive Covenant has arrived. These words of his evoke Israel’s long wait, for the aspiration of all Old Testament believers was the presence of God in the midst of his people. There had been the Tabernacle during the Exodus, then the Temple in Jerusalem, but they awaited the New Covenant in which God would dwell not in buildings, but in the hearts of his people, intimately present in every believing heart. God had promised this through the mouth of Ezekiel, for example: ‘My dwelling place will be with them; I will be their God, and they will be my people’ (Ezek 37:27) and Zechariah: ‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion; behold, I am coming to dwell among you’ (Zech 2:14). The apostles were imbued with this hope: they knew that the definitive Covenant promised in the Old Testament was intended for all humanity, and during his public life, Jesus had repeatedly expressed the desire that the whole world might be saved. But why does he say that the world is incapable of receiving the Spirit of truth, and why does he say this at this very decisive moment of salvation? It is certainly not a value judgement, but an observation: The world cannot receive him, because it neither sees nor knows him. But Jesus continues: you, however, know him, because he dwells with you and will be in you. This is a sending forth on mission, for it is as if he were saying: “The world does not know the Spirit of truth… It is up to you to make him known; it is up to you to help people discover the active presence of the Spirit in every human reality”. Jesus wants to strengthen his disciples: to help them believe that the contagion of love will gradually prevail and that it is possible to transform the spirit of the world into the spirit of love. In a way, the mission he entrusts to his disciples is evangelisation by contagion, from person to person. This will be possible because Jesus assures them: “I will pray to the Father and he will give you another Paraclete to remain with you forever”. In Greek, “parakletos” refers to one who is called to stand by an accused person to assist them: he is the comforter, the intercessor, the counsellor, the advocate, the defender. An advocate for a trial, but what trial are we talking about? The one in which the world acts against Christ’s disciples, and through them, against the Father himself and against Christ. Ultimately, it is the trial of “Truth”. Hence Jesus’ insistence on the word “truth” whenever he warns his disciples of the persecutions that await them: “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me; and you also will bear witness, because you have been with me from the beginning” (Jn 15:26–27).

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Jn 16:2-15)

«He will receive from what is Mine and will proclaim to you [...] He receives from Mine and will announce you» (vv.14-15).

The teaching imparted by Jesus with his life was not incomplete, but a Germ that traced fundamental options, guidelines.

The magisterial insufficiency in the detailed case studies is significant. Christ is not a cast and dead model, but Motivation and Drive.

And God is not a predictor of the future, nor a reassurer - but a vital Presence. Even when in adverse events there seems to be a lack of air.

Indeed, in the right time, crises turn into the spelling of love; into opportunities to experience needs and relationships differently - even paradoxically, for genuine change; from within, natural.

Thus and in that spirit, the disciples began a journey of understanding the facts of Easter, discovering step by step that the story of Christ would embrace all the secrets of God.

In short, the first fraternities noted the “extraordinary” things of living following and ‘inner guidance’.

By living the Master's teaching in the most varied circumstances [favourable and joyful, or sad and at a loss] He made Himself close in the soul; and He manifested Himself, taking the step of the brethren.

A different Light - no longer neutral, standardized, whatever - animated the lives of the faithful and their coexistence.

They experienced a new Birth, like an unceasing Creation.

From the hearts of the believers in the Son of Man - even the formerly maligned ones - gushed forth an unseen Source of reconciliation and harmony of opposites.

A Wisdom of things unknown to the world of empire and other beliefs was emerging.

The Spirit of the Risen One made it possible to understand the critical fruitfulness of the Cross [«the burden»: v.12], thus expanding the solutions and orientations of the conventional competitive life.

Of course there were falls, due to natural precarious conditions, and the fact that it was not immediate to understand the logic of the Crucified One.

But the Action of the Spirit of the «Truth» [God's Faithfulness] illuminated, guided and stimulated a deeper interpretation of the Word of the Lord: not a deposit of crystallized statements.

The sons discovered: that Recall was living, inexhaustible in its meanings and in the possibility of understanding things.

Truth about the Eternal and about humanity, pregnant with existential implications.

Those reborn of water and the Spirit began to perceive it as ‘force’ of events, a real and overwhelming power.

Its intelligence was enriched in history, through assembly events, experiences, dialogues, reflections.

The Spirit of the wounded and Living Christ internalized that Call that renewed women and men, and their relationships.

People who did not even have self-esteem were put back on their feet. The profiteer was becoming righteous, the doubter more confident; the unhappy person was regaining hope.

Everyone in helping each other realized that they could live happily.

The assistance of the total and mystical divine Spirit, even today, guides the access and fullness of facets of the Truth; and is a stimulus for an innovative, democratic, multifaceted, personal understanding.

Banish insecurity.

We can still be in the most acute, energetic and contemplative frankness; in a fidelity of integral reading-interpretation of the Gospels that eschews all accommodation (vv.14-15).

[Wednesday 6th wk. in Easter, May 13, 2026]

(Jn 16:12-15)

«He will receive from Mine and proclaim to you [...] he will receive from Mine and proclaim to you» (vv.14-15).

The teaching imparted by Jesus with his life was not incomplete, but a germ that traced fundamental options, guidelines.

The magisterial insufficiency in the detailed case histories is significant. Christ is not a cast and dead model, but a Motive and Motor.

And God is not a predictor of the future, nor a reassurer - but a vital Presence. Even when in adverse events there seems to be a lack of air.

Although limited in space and time, his story and Word still germinates the guiding lines of an alternative world, empathetic even in the drama of bad times.

The complete Truth of the Lord (including the meaning of his death) is not about quantity - the number of truths, prescriptions: it is in fieri.

'Truth' itself demands to be deepened, intensified, made qualitative, totalising.

The writings of the New Testament attest to the action of the Spirit, who starting from archaic community situations (Mk) increasingly refines and reveals the sense of what "is to come" (v.13).

In the personal and ecclesial sequelae also extra moenia - it is about the possibility of an ever sharper understanding on our part.

We are not repositories of an aptitude for divination - of course - but for discernment [now capable of appreciating even deviations].

We are given a faculty to grasp the genius of time, even in imbalance and uprooting.

This is in relation to the disciples' capacity to correspond to the vocation that welcomes the new: a slow paradoxical glorification; for them too, 'the way of elevation'.

The penetration of the Mystery and the history of salvation, which had its apex and germinal source in Jesus of Nazareth, acquires more and more surprising clarity; new ways of being.

We discover in the Faith that our life can broaden the horizon. It is not carried out in function of God, as in archaic religions, which cage... but the other way around.

Christ speaks not of new truths, but of 'complete truth': specifically concerning the face of Heaven within; the profile of the integral and authentic woman and man; the character of the new society.

One of the ways in which the early Christians experienced the presence of the Holy Spirit was through prophecy, made fruitful by even unpleasant events that incessantly forced them to exodus, to move, to turn their gaze - thus overcoming the fear of growing.

One had to remain... only in individual or ecclesial frankness. 

If anyone had to 'isolate' themselves from the common mentality, it was to rediscover their deep roots, to interrupt the artificial behaviour ready to barter values.

Gradually the community brothers experienced the depth and total dimension of the teaching received.

Even persecutions and 'crosses' were not eradicated hastily.

In the right time, crises were transformed into the spelling of love; into opportunities to experience needs and relationships differently - even paradoxically, for genuine change; from within, natural.

In this perspective, every event was always better understood, internalised, assimilated and made one's own as the historical call of the God who reveals himself.

In the events of the early days, all the situations in which the Church will always find itself are revealed.

In this way and in that spirit, the disciples began a journey of understanding the facts of Easter.

The Lord's intimates were discovering step by step that the story of Christ would embrace all the secrets of God.

In short, the first fraternities observed the "extraordinary" things of living following and 'inner guidance'.

By living the Master's teaching in the most varied circumstances [favourable and joyful, or sad and at a loss] He made Himself close in the soul; and He manifested Himself, taking the step of the brethren.

A different Light - no longer neutral, standardised, whatever - animated the lives of the faithful and their coexistence.

They experienced a new Birth, like an unceasing Creation.

From the hearts of the believers in the Son of Man - even those who had previously been maligned - there gushed forth an unprecedented Source of conciliation and harmony of opposites. 

A Wisdom of things unknown to the world of empire and other beliefs was emerging.

The Spirit of the Risen One made it possible to understand the critical fruitfulness of the Cross ["the burden": v.12], thus expanding the solutions and orientations of the conventional competitive life.

Of course there were falls, due to natural precariousness, and to the fact that it was not immediate to understand the logic of the Crucified One.

But the Action of the Spirit of "Truth" [God's Faithfulness] enlightened, guided and stimulated them to interpret the Word of the Lord more deeply: not a storehouse of crystallised statements.The children discovered that that Call was living, inexhaustible in its meanings and in the possibility of understanding things.

Truth about the Eternal and humanity, pregnant with existential implications.

Those reborn of water and the Spirit began to perceive it as a force of events, a real and overwhelming power.

His intelligence was enriched in history, through assembly events, experiences, dialogues, reflections.

The Spirit of the wounded and Living Christ internalised that Call that renewed women and men, and their relationships.

People who did not even have self-esteem were being revived. The profiteer became righteous, the doubter more secure; the unhappy person began to hope again.

All in mutual help realised that they could live happily.

The assistance of the total and mystical divine Spirit, even today, guides the access and fullness of facets of the Truth; and is a stimulus to an innovative, democratic, multifaceted, personal understanding.

Let us banish insecurity.

We can still be in the sharpest, most energetic and contemplative frankness; in a faithfulness of integral reading-interpretation of the Gospels that eschews all accommodation (vv.14-15).