5th Easter Sunday (year A)  [3 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (6:1-7)

Paradoxically, the problem facing the early Christian community arose from its very success. In those days, as the number of disciples grew, the Greek-speaking believers began to grumble against the Hebrew-speaking ones (Acts 6:1). The numbers were growing so rapidly that maintaining unity became difficult. Every expanding group faces the same question: how to remain united when numbers grow? Numerous, and therefore diverse. In truth, the seeds of this difficulty were already present on the morning of Pentecost. In Jerusalem lived devout Jews from every nation under heaven (cf. Acts 2:5). On that day there were three thousand conversions, and others followed in the months and years that followed. All were Jews, for the question of non-Jews arose only later, but many were Jews who had come to Jerusalem on pilgrimage from all over the Empire. These were the Jews of the Diaspora known as Hellenists: their mother tongue was neither Hebrew nor Aramaic, but Greek, which was then the common language throughout the Mediterranean. Thus, the young community immediately found itself facing the ‘challenge of languages’. And we know that the language barrier is much more than a mere difficulty of translation: a different mother tongue means different cultures, customs, and ways of understanding life and solving problems. If language is a net cast over the reality of things, a different language is another net, and the meshes rarely coincide. The practical problem that arose in Jerusalem was the care of widows. Looking after them was a rule of the Jewish world and the community did so willingly, but those managing the service, recruited from the majority Hebrew-speaking group, tended to favour the widows of their own group, whilst the Greek-speaking widows were neglected. These complaints could only grow more bitter, until they reached the ears of the apostles. Their reaction can be summarised in three points. First: they summoned the entire assembly of disciples because every decision is taken in plenary session, given that the Church functions synodally: Why then has this been lost? Second: they recalled the objective. It is a matter of remaining faithful to three demands of apostolic life: prayer, the ministry of the Word and the service of the brothers and sisters. Third: they are not afraid to propose a new organisation. Innovation is not unfaithfulness; on the contrary: faithfulness demands the ability to adapt to new circumstances. Being faithful does not mean remaining fixated on the past, for example by entrusting all tasks to the Twelve simply because they were chosen by Jesus. Being faithful means keeping one’s eyes fixed on the goal, and the goal, as the evangelist John writes, is ‘that they may be one so that the world may believe’ (Jn 17:21). Accepting diversity is the challenge facing every growing community, and when conflicts arise, splitting up is not the best solution; this is why the apostles do not consider dividing the community in two, with Greeks on one side and Jews on the other. The Holy Spirit has brought about numerous and diverse conversions and now inspires the apostles to organise themselves differently to deal with the consequences. The Twelve therefore decide to appoint men capable of taking on the task of serving at the tables, since that is where the problem arises: “Brothers, choose seven of you, men respected by all, full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom, and we will entrust this task to them. We, for our part, will devote ourselves to prayer and the ministry of the Word’. The seven chosen all bear Greek names: they were therefore almost certainly part of the group of Greek-speaking Christians, from whom the complaints had come. Thus a new institution is born: these servants of the community do not yet have a title, and the text does not use the word ‘deacon’. Although we must not be too quick to identify these men with today’s deacons, one thing remains clear: in every age, the Spirit inspires innovations that are indispensable for faithfully fulfilling the Church’s various missions and priorities. 

Responsorial Psalm (32/33)

I shall begin where the reading of this psalm ends, for there lies a key to understanding the whole. I return to the penultimate verse, verse 18: “The Lord’s eye is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love.” Here we discover a beautiful definition of “fear of God”: to fear the Lord is simply to place our hope in his love. The believer, in the biblical sense, is a person full of hope; and if they are so, whatever happens, it is because they know that ‘the earth is full of his love’, as verse 5, which we have just heard, says. Knowing that the Lord’s loving gaze is always upon us is the source of our hope. I should point out that, in the Hebrew text, the name ‘Lord’ is the one revealed to Moses in the burning bush: the four-letter name YHWH which, out of respect, Jews never pronounce, and which means something like ‘I am, I will be with you, from everlasting to everlasting, in every moment of your history’. This name reminds Israel of the care with which God surrounded his people throughout the Exodus. If we translate it as ‘God watches over’, this vigilance is well conveyed. Thus we understand the following verse: ‘to deliver him from death and sustain him in times of famine’ (v. 19). These are allusions to the exodus from Egypt: by leading the people across the sea on dry ground behind Moses, the Lord saved the people from the certain death decreed by the Pharaoh; then, by sending manna from heaven in the desert, he truly nourished his people in times of famine. Then praise flows spontaneously from the heart of those who have experienced God’s care: “Rejoice, O righteous ones, in the Lord; for the upright, praise is beautiful” (v. 1). The expression “the upright” may surprise us, yet it is common in the Bible. One is considered upright/righteous who enters into God’s plan, who is united with God like a well-tuned musical instrument. This is said of Abraham: Abraham believed in the Lord, and it was credited to him as righteousness (Gen 15:6). He had faith, that is, he trusted in God and in his plan. Therefore, we could translate “righteous men”, in Hebrew hassidim, as “the men of the Covenant”, or “the men of God’s merciful plan”: those who have accepted the revelation of God’s benevolence and respond to it by adhering to the Covenant. These titles, “righteous men” and “upright men”, do not denote moral qualities, for the hassid is a man like any other, a sinner like any other, but he lives within the Lord’s Covenant; he lives in trust in the faithful God. And since he has discovered the God of tenderness and faithfulness, quite logically he lives in praise: “Rejoice in the Lord, you righteous; praise is fitting for the upright.” This call to praise was the entrance hymn of a liturgy of thanksgiving. We note in passing an indication of how the psalms were performed and of at least one of the instruments used in the Temple of Jerusalem: this psalm was probably intended to be accompanied by a ten-stringed harp. Singing a new song to the Lord does not mean a song never heard before, but a new song in the sense that words of love, even the most familiar ones, are always new. When lovers say ‘I love you’, they are not afraid to repeat the same words, and yet the wonder is that that song is always new. One more note: “The word of the Lord is upright, and all his works are trustworthy” (v. 4). Contrary to appearances, these are not two separate statements, one concerning the word of God and the other concerning his works, because in the Bible the Word of God is already an act in progress: “God said, and it was done,” repeats the account of creation in the first book of Genesis. It is no coincidence that this psalm has twenty-two verses, corresponding to the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet: it is a tribute to the Word of God, as if to say that it is the whole of our life, from A to Z. And it is no empty compliment, for Israel recognises that from God’s first word to his people, Israel has simultaneously experienced how the promised Word of liberation is, at the same time, already God’s liberating intervention: in every age, the Word of God calls to freedom, and is at the same time a divine force acting within humanity to secure freedom from all idolatry and all slavery. Finally: “He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the Lord’s love” (v. 5). Here the vocation of the whole of creation is described: God is love, and the earth is called to be a place of love, righteousness and justice. Remember the prophet Micah: ‘O man, it has been taught to you what is good and what the Lord requires of you: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God’ (Mic 6:8).

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:4–9)

In Hebrew, the same verb is used to mean ‘to build a house’, ‘to found a family’ and ‘to found a society’. For this reason, even in the Old Testament, the prophets readily used the language of building to speak of human society. Isaiah, for example, devised a parable: he compared the kingdom of Jerusalem to a building site (Isaiah 28:16–17). On that site there was a remarkable block of stone that was meant to become the cornerstone of the building, but the architects scorned that block and preferred to use stones of poor quality. This was a way of accusing the authorities of abandoning true values to build society on false ones. Over time, it became customary to apply the term ‘cornerstone’ to the Messiah: he would be able to take over and restore God’s building site. Peter, in turn, develops this comparison to speak of Christ. Jesus, the Messiah, is truly the most precious stone that God has placed at the centre of the building; and all people are called upon to become stones in this spiritual edifice. Those who agree to become one with him are integrated into the structure, becoming supporting elements themselves. But of course this is a choice to be made, and people may also choose the opposite path, that is, to reject the project and even sabotage it. Then everything happens for them as if the keystone were not at the heart of the building: it has remained on the ground, an admirable block but a hindrance on the building site. The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone, a stumbling block and a stone of offence (cf. 1 Pet 2:7–8). Our Baptism was the moment of choice. Since then, we have been integrated into the building of what Peter calls the spiritual temple, as opposed to the stone temple in Jerusalem where animal sacrifices were offered. From the beginning of history, humanity has sought to reach God by worshipping him in the way it believes is worthy of him. Along its journey, the chosen people discovered the true face of God and learnt to live within his Covenant. Little by little, in the light of the prophets’ teaching, it was discovered that the true temple of God is humanity itself, and that the only worship worthy of him is love and service to our brothers and sisters, and no longer animal sacrifices. But this places a tremendous responsibility upon us: the temple in Jerusalem was the sign of God’s presence among his people. Now, the sign of God’s presence visible to the world is us, the Church of Christ. Peter’s words then resound as a vocation: “Like living stones, you too are being built into a spiritual house” (1 Pet 2:5). Peter distinguishes between those who entrust themselves to Christ and those who reject him. ‘Believing’ and ‘rejecting’ are two acts of free will, and those who do not accept Christ, Peter affirms, stumble because they do not obey the Word. This was their destiny (cf. v. 5); this phrase speaks only of the consequence of their free choice, not of predestination by God’s arbitrary decision: the liberating God can only respect our freedom. At the presentation of Jesus in the temple, Simeon had announced to Joseph and Mary: ‘He is here for the fall and the rising again of many in Israel’ (cf. Lk 2:34). Simeon does not speak of a necessity willed by God, but of the consequences of Jesus’ coming. In fact, his presence was for some an occasion of total conversion, whilst others hardened their hearts. Peter concludes: ‘ But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood” (1 Pet 2:9). On the day of our Baptism, grafted into Christ, we became members of Christ, the one true “priest, prophet and king”. United with him, we have become part of his holy people; we have acquired a new citizenship, that of the people of God, and our national anthem is now the Alleluia. Peter concludes by telling us that we are charged with proclaiming the marvellous works of the One who has called us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

From the Gospel according to John (14:1–12)

If Jesus begins by saying, ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled’ (Jn 14:1), it is because the disciples were not hiding their anguish, and one can understand why. They knew they were surrounded by general hostility and sensed that the countdown had begun. This anguish was compounded, at least for some of them, by a terrible disappointment: “We had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel” (from the Romans), the disciples of Emmaus would say (cf. Lk 24:21). The apostles shared this political hope; now their leader is about to be condemned and executed, and their illusions are coming to an end. Jesus sets about redirecting their hope: he will not fulfil the expectations his miracles have raised; he will not lead the national uprising against the occupier; on the contrary, he will not cease to preach non-violence. The liberation he has come to bring lies on another plane: he does not wish to fulfil his people’s earthly and political expectation of the Messiah, but to make them understand that he is the one who has always been awaited. He begins by appealing to their faith, that is, to that fundamental attitude of the Jewish people which we read of in all the psalms, for hope can rest firmly only on faith. This is why Jesus returns repeatedly to these words: ‘believe’, ‘let not your hearts be troubled (for) you believe in God’. Yet it is one thing to believe in God—and this is a given—and quite another to believe in Jesus, precisely at the moment when he seems to have definitively lost the battle. For his contemporaries, to accord Jesus the same faith as God required a tremendous leap, and Jesus seeks to help them perceive the profound unity existing between the Father and himself. Here we have the second key theme of this text: “I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (a phrase he repeats twice). And then: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”, and this last phrase resonates in a very special way in the light of what will happen a few hours later, for the revelation of the Father reaches its climax when Jesus dies on the cross. As he dies, Jesus continues to love mankind, all mankind, and even forgives his executioners. It would be necessary to dwell on every sentence of this final conversation between Jesus and his disciples, indeed on each of the words laden with the whole of biblical experience: to know, to see, to abide, to go towards. Every word is at the same time an event, a ‘work’. When he says: ‘I am’, to Jewish ears this clearly evokes God himself, and he dares to say: “I am the way, the truth and the life”, identifying himself with God himself. And at the same time, the Father and he are two distinct persons, for Jesus says: “I am the way” (implied: to the Father). No one comes to the Father except through me. Another way of saying “I am the way” or “I am the gate”, as in the discourse on the Good Shepherd. And when we are united with him, the divine plan of our solidarity in Jesus Christ with the whole of humanity is realised. This is truly a mystery, and we struggle greatly to grasp it, yet it is the very essence of God’s merciful plan, which St Augustine calls the “total Christ”. This solidarity in Jesus Christ is present throughout the New Testament. Paul, for example, evokes it when he speaks of the New Adam and also when he says that Christ is the head of the Body of which we are the members. “The whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth until now” (Rom 8:22): the birth of which he speaks is precisely that of the Body of Christ. Jesus himself very often used the expression ‘Son of Man’ to announce the definitive victory of the whole of humanity gathered together as one man. If we take seriously the expression ‘No one comes to the Father except through me’ and if we consider the solidarity existing among all men in Jesus Christ, then we must also say that Christ does not go to the Father without us. This is the meaning of these words of Jesus: “Where I am, there you will be too”, and again, “When I have gone and prepared a place for you, I will come again and take you to be with me”. Paul affirms this in another way when he writes: “Nothing can ever separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:39). Jesus concludes with a solemn promise: “Whoever believes in me will do the works that I do.” After all that Jesus has just said about himself, the term “works” certainly does not refer solely to miracles, for throughout the Old Testament, when the word “work” is used in reference to God, it always refers to God’s great work of liberating his people. This means that the disciples are now associated with the work undertaken by God to free humanity from all physical or moral bondage. This promise of Christ encourages us to believe that, even though history shows the enduring presence of many forms of slavery, this liberation is possible and will come to pass. It is up to each of us to make our own contribution.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Jn 14:1-12)

The Other Way in the ministerial Church

(Jn 14:1-6)

«Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God and believe in me» (v.1).

Jesus invites to Faith in Him because He was condemned as a sinner, deranged and cursed, by the very teachers of the things of God.

His proposal for a «Way» breaks away from the illusory plots of religion without Exodus.

Disciples must learn to experience physical separation from the Master. And by process of love, as on a road trodden on foot, in Him continue to reach sisters and brothers.

Now they know the Father’s descending «Way»: the Person of Christ is all that mankind needs for a life redeemed from the subordination, the fears, the lies of ancient religion.

The itinerary is not individualistic and isolated. Nor does Jesus return surrounded by ostentation and power, for He never ‘left’: in the Spirit, He never separated himself.

He is the motor and motive, the force of the concrete journey, the dynamic principle that accompanies, guides and surpasses; as well as the purpose [not external].

He manifests himself and lives in the inner Mystery within us, not at the end of time or in a location (v.5).

The Incarnation continues in unique, ever new ways, which are identified in personal paths and especially in the relationship of working Faith.

Under the image of the House [almost divided into spaces] the Lord alludes to the new condition of Life and complete Communion with the Father.

The popular figure of the afterlife was linked to a certain number of "places" in which the devoted people would be housed, accommodated.

In this archetypal configuration, the Faith of believers introduces a different kind of representation, which fulfils and exceeds the ancient promises - no longer anchored in the usual distinction between vices and virtues.

Women and men have a «place» (v.2) [task, mission] already ready and assured: there we will be with the Son who Comes.

In the House of the Father there are many places (v.2), that is - according to sensitivity, inclination and history - various ways to serve the brethren; to fulfil oneself, to weave community relationships, to expand the presence of the Risen One.

The conscious and ministerial Church broadens the horizon of holiness and the apostolate.

We are all called to become fully involved members, collaborators in the work of salvation. Protagonists in the activities of the People of God, valuing each one - this is the Victory of the Son.

And the Assembly that reflects Christ is the outgoing one. A Fraternity that is not self-congratulatory about its static goals, but is moving [precisely: «Way»].

On this journey, it learns and deepens in an uninterrupted, increasing, growing way, the language of gratuitousness Love that gives spontaneously, without intimate dissociations or artificial conflicts.

Thus, the Church itself, with its wide range of collaborators (of equal dignity) is not afraid to question itself. On the contrary, from Exodus to Exodus it experiences, concretises and deepens its knowledge of the Father. Almighty because He provides for his lesser sons.

«Truth» [of God]: He is «Faithful».

Precisely on this orientation, here we are introduced to the decisive discovery: it is the Father himself who dilates, strengthens inclinations, our existential bearing. To the point of recovering opposites.

God does not vampirize us, but rather expands existence, transmitting the fullness of being multifaceted; thus communicating his own «Life».

The end of God's invisibility.

The Other Way, Truth, Life, in the human dimension

(Jn 14:6-14)

Divine hands have wounds of love, they are not claws. They tread the alternative «way» of work, of building and welcoming; a truly special, disinterested, unreflected trajectory.

Hands marked by what one wishes for the world: open, not clenched into a fist - if anything, with that gentle grip that says: «I am with You».

They accompany «the way» that makes the weak become strong. «Way» that expands our horizon to conquer the land of Freedom.

He is «the Truth». We know what happens to news when it passes from mouth to mouth: it becomes defaced.

But united with the True Person - intertwined with his story - we encounter ourselves, we know the divine ‘Fidelity’ [‘Truth’], we choose substance instead of conventional, conformist or volatile ideas (we would become external).

«I Am the Life». The Father expands and enhances inclinations, our existential reaching; He does not vampirize us as if He were the one who needs something.

He is the Totality of Being, and Source in action; springing of particular essences.

His Calling is Seed; a Root that characterizes and expands Life, making it singular, more distinctive; unique, unrepeatable; meaningful and relational.

To build an alternative society capable of creating well-being: smiles and amazement flowing out, cheering everyone up.

«Let us see the Father» (cf. vv.8-9) is the plea - often anonymous - that from the very beginning has accompanied the believers’ People, who spontaneously reveal their Lord as the Way, the Truth and the Life (v.6).

And the Church that reflects Christ is the ‘outgoing’ one, which does not become complacent about its static goals, but moves [precisely: «Way»] from Exodus to Exodus, to improve itself before correcting others.

The assembly of sons is therefore not afraid of becoming impure by frequenting the cultural and existential peripheries, because it has understood the authentic face of God.

Father, Mother, deep Core, Friend.

«Faithful» [«Truth», in the theological sense] who is not afraid to mix with earthly affairs.

He does not flee the critical scrutiny; nor does he abandon those who stray, or those who cannot bear conformist obligations, or who find themselves in penury.

Authentic community is capable of coexistence and reciprocity: that of «the Life» which shows Father and Son in act [Initiative and Correspondence].

In the Spirit, such a Family recovers each person's journey and restores wholeness, fullness of being without boundaries, even to those who have lost hope or self-esteem.

Difference with ancient religion? The Eternal is no longer revealed in the awesome power of sensational outward manifestations: fire, earthquake, thunders and lightnings.

God is not the preserve of those who show great energy.

In the hearths of Faith, the Person of Christ is made present in his being, in his troubled and real life [«in the Name»: vv.13-14].

It is in such a people that God dreams an immediate reflection of ideas, words, works; and mutual immanence.

For the efficacious event of the Father is all in the flesh of the Son. Their Dream, in the human dimension of believers.

[5th ​​Easter Sunday (year A), May 3, 2026]

John 14:1–12 (John 14:1–14)

The end of the Father’s invisibility. The Way of the ministerial Church

(John 14:1–6)

    ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me’ (v. 1).

Jesus invites faith in Him because He has been condemned as a sinner, unbalanced and accursed, precisely by the teachers of the things of God.

His proposed path breaks away from the illusory plots of a religion devoid of Exodus.

Now the disciples must learn to live with physical separation from the Master.

And through a process of love, as on a road travelled on foot, to continue reaching out to their brothers and sisters in Him. 

Here they come to know the descending Way of the Father: the Person of Christ is all that the whole of humanity needs for a life redeemed from subordination, from fears, from the lies of ancient religion.

The journey is not individualistic or isolated. Nor does Jesus return surrounded by ostentation and power, for he has never ‘left’: in the Spirit, he has never been separated.

He is the driving force and the reason, the strength of the concrete journey, the dynamic principle that accompanies, guides and transcends; as well as the [non-external] destination.

He manifests himself and lives within the inner Mystery in us, not at the end of time or in a specific location (v.5).

The Incarnation continues in unique, ever-new ways, which are discerned in personal journeys and especially in the relationship of active Faith.

Under the image of the House [almost divided into spaces], the Lord alludes to the new condition of Life and complete Communion with the Faithful Father of Love.

The popular image of the afterlife was linked to a specific number of ‘places’ in which the faithful people would be lodged.

In this archetypal configuration, the Faith of believers introduces a different kind of representation, which fulfils and transcends the ancient promises – no longer anchored to the customary distinction between vices and virtues.

Women and men have a ‘place’ (v.2) [task, mission] already prepared and assured: there we shall be with the Son who is Coming.

Recognising us in our dignity, the Lord himself will descend from heaven: he will even come to meet us (cf. 1 Thess 4:15–17) as if each of us had become an ‘alter Christus’.

That is, as if we had been reshaped by the Father in the very image of Jesus.

Recreated on the principle of original love – in the way we ought to have been and perhaps even could have been.

Excluding the spurious aspects, of unfaithfulness to the call to life.

Finally radiant with the Mystery revealed, living together in our differences and wholly given.

Like Him, enthusiastic lords-servants of freedom.

Exultant heralds of a universal centrality, yet in contrast to political or fundamentalist messianic expectations, which are ignorant and closed-minded, seeing neither nor encountering.

In the Father’s House there are many dwelling places (v.2), that is to say – according to sensibility, inclination and history – varied ways to serve our brothers and sisters; to fulfil oneself, to weave community bonds, to extend the presence of the Risen One.

The conscious and ministerial Church broadens the horizon of holiness and the apostolate.

We are all called to become fully involved members, collaborators in the work of salvation. Protagonists in the activities of the People of God, who values each one.

This is the Victory of the Son.

The hands of the Living One in his Assemblies bear wounds of love, not claws like those of the leaders of ancient religiosity.

His—our—works are of a different kind: they do not grab, they do not hold back, they do not slap, they do not punish; they do not serve merely to stage catwalks and theatrics.

They follow the alternative path of labour, of building and welcoming; truly special, because it is unknown, selfless; devoid of the limelight.

Hands marked by what is desired for the world: open, not clenched into fists – if anything, with that gentle squeeze that says: ‘I am with you’ – so that others too may feel caressed and be helped to chart the path that suits them.

The ‘Way’ that makes the weak strong.

‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God and believe in me’ (v.1). Precisely.

Let us reiterate: Jesus invites us to faith in Him because He was condemned as a sinner, unbalanced and accursed, precisely by the teachers of the things of God.

His proposed path breaks away from the illusory plots of a religion devoid of Exodus.

Instead of doctrine and discipline, the ‘Way’ broadens our horizons – tearing us from the cages that imprison and hold us hostage, to conquer the land of Freedom.

He is ‘Truth’. We know what happens to a piece of news when it is passed from mouth to mouth: it becomes distorted.

And whether through ignorance or self-interest, the most varied agencies of manipulation of consciences still dominate the scene; capable of turning the meaning of the Gospel and the story of Christ on its head – not without personal gain.

But united with the True Person – intertwined with his story – we encounter ourselves.

We come to know divine Faithfulness; we choose substance over the superficiality that enslaves us with conventional, conformist or fleeting ideas (we would become entirely external).

‘I Am Life’. The Father expands and empowers our inclinations, our existential makeup; to the point of reconciling opposites.

He does not drain us as if He were the one in need of something.

He is the totality of Being and the Source in action, the wellspring of particular essences.

In religions, women and men are depersonalised, because they live in service to God.

His Call, however, is a Seed, a Root that defines our deepest identity and expands the pulse of life.

In this way, making it singular, more distinctive; unique, unrepeatable, meaningful, relational.

The Father does not make the usual moralistic appeal to elevate us, detaching us from others – perhaps by adopting devotional models shaped by the mysticism of suffering [or, conversely, by glossy abstractions] – at the risk of undermining the fundamental pillars of our personality.

He does not impose obedience on his children (as if we were servants or sheep) but calls us to ‘resemble him’. Trusting in our inner resources – as if, in seed form, we were already perfect and capable of any development.

Thus is He who Comes – but not with a controlling or paternalistic attitude. And respectfully knocks to merge with us; for He already considers us Better, not inadequate or lacking.

He allows us to say: ‘I’ and to encounter ourselves – and on this solid foundation to build a living community, through the exchange of resources and dreams; through listening to eccentricities [which are also our own].

When we are able to transform ourselves once more, accepting his proposal, starting from our innate resources to reach out towards others, we broaden our outlook.

We become more open to providential Novelty in real life – ready for any direction.

By allowing ourselves to be saved, by letting ourselves be guided by the intuitions of his Spirit, we shall be People capable of thought; convinced, in every respect. Neither stunted, nor contraband.

In short: we are children called to express ourselves personally, and to make our own contribution, original and equally dignified. To build an alternative society capable of creating well-being: smiles and wonder that flow forth, bringing joy to all.

The end of God’s invisibility.

Mysticism of the Power of Conviction

(Jn 14:6–14)

‘Show us the Father’ is the plea – often anonymous – that has accompanied the People of Believers from the very beginning, revealing their Lord as the Way, the Truth and the Life (v.6).

Love is learned only over time, by walking many paths and taking risks personally: it follows the path of humanity and of the Exodus. The Church that reflects Christ is one that reaches out, which does not rest on its laurels but sets out [Way].

The assembly of the children does not fear becoming ‘impure’ by frequenting the cultural and existential peripheries, for it has understood the true face of God: Faithful [Truth, in the theological sense].

The Eternal One is not afraid to mingle with earthly affairs: He does not shy away from critical scrutiny; nor does He abandon those who stray, or cannot bear obligations, or find themselves in need.

The authentic Community is that of Life: it manifests the Father and the Son in action. 

In the Spirit, it restores each person’s journey and restores boundless completeness and fullness of being even to those who have lost hope or self-esteem (often despised by those who possess nothing superior).

How does this differ from ancient religion? The Eternal One no longer reveals Himself in the astonishing power of sensational external manifestations: fire, earthquakes, lightning, thunder.

In the communities of Faith where the Person [‘Name’: vv.13-14] of Christ is made present in his troubled and real life, God dreams of an immediate reflection of ideas, words, deeds, and mutual immanence.

The Father’s effective action is wholly in the flesh of the Son. Their Dream, in the human dimension of believers.

John frequently emphasises Jesus’ relationship with the Father: a sort of direct ‘vision’, which carries within it union and mission.

The Way-through, the Truth-Faithfulness-in-spite-of-all of the Most High, his Life of indestructible quality… are not merely future realities: the experience of personal and fraternal Faith brings them to life.

We too wish to ‘see God’, and it is possible. But not face to face, in the way we perceive things and people (v.8).

The contemplation of his Face and his Presence—to be known and believed—comes to humanity through his Word-event: Jesus himself, through whom we have perfect knowledge.

His mission in the world has made the plan of uncreated love its own, a plan that seeks to spread life.

He still intends to explain it not to the hard-hearted and self-righteous who are even familiar with how to evade the scrutiny of the Gospels, but to the poor who do not know where or to whom to cling.

Consequently, the divine vision grows to the extent that knowledge of the Son and his foundational relationship deepens.

The fourth Gospel expresses a formula of mutual immanence (vv. 9–11) which speaks of a shared way of feeling, speaking and acting, for our benefit.

Faith is, in the final analysis, an Action.

A real act whereby the Father believes in the Son, and the Son in the Father.

The salvation of the little flock in constant renewal and crisis. Not a process of election and predestination.

Thus our faith-love in Christ draws us closer to God.

And when the Father dwells within the believer, He does not detach Himself, adjusting to perfections, but works directly through him; just as He worked through Jesus.

Here are Signs and events – including upheavals – that become intimately personal and ecclesial.

Works unfolded in history, even greater (v.12). ‘Greater’ than their Seed planted in our mud.

The story of a poor, landless carpenter’s son, a village preacher, pressured and humiliated by the authorities – in whom we recognise ourselves and who offers access.

Yet, not by long-standing privilege.

Even in our irreverent flesh, in the paradox and in the communion of the small remnant of the saved, here is the strange Fulfilment of the interrupted paths – through the Word of the Father, in the Spirit.

Manifestation of the relational Mystery of his Being, which in the faithful Gift of his reaffirmed Covenant restores the opposing faces and redeems the shadowed sides.

A covenant now spontaneous. By the power of conviction.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you perceive God’s plan for you through the Face of the Son? 

How do you sense that you have accepted his communion in the ‘Name’, and reached the Father?

How do you respond to the Call?

How do you enter into divine intimacy?

What is your close connection with the Son, who reveals the Father?

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

In the Gospel we have just heard, Jesus tells his Apostles to put their faith in him, for he is “the way, and the truth and the life” (Jn 14:6). Christ is the way that leads to the Father, the truth which gives meaning to human existence, and the source of that life which is eternal joy with all the saints in his heavenly Kingdom. Let us take the Lord at his word! Let us renew our faith in him and put all our hope in his promises! 

With this encouragement to persevere in the faith of Peter (cf. Lk 22:32; Mt 16:17), I greet all of you with great affection. I thank Cardinal Egan for his cordial words of welcome in your name. At this Mass, the Church in the United States celebrates the two hundredth anniversary of the creation of the Sees of New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Louisville from the mother See of Baltimore. The presence around this altar of the Successor of Peter, his brother bishops and priests, and deacons, men and women religious, and lay faithful from throughout the fifty states of the Union, eloquently manifests our communion in the Catholic faith which comes to us from the Apostles. 

Our celebration today is also a sign of the impressive growth which God has given to the Church in your country in the past two hundred years. From a small flock like that described in the first reading, the Church in America has been built up in fidelity to the twin commandment of love of God and love of neighbor. In this land of freedom and opportunity, the Church has united a widely diverse flock in the profession of the faith and, through her many educational, charitable and social works, has also contributed significantly to the growth of American society as a whole.

This great accomplishment was not without its challenges. Today’s first reading, taken from the Acts of the Apostles, speaks of linguistic and cultural tensions already present within the earliest Church community. At the same time, it shows the power of the word of God, authoritatively proclaimed by the Apostles and received in faith, to create a unity which transcends the divisions arising from human limitations and weakness. Here we are reminded of a fundamental truth: that the Church’s unity has no other basis than the Word of God, made flesh in Christ Jesus our Lord. All external signs of identity, all structures, associations and programs, valuable or even essential as they may be, ultimately exist only to support and foster the deeper unity which, in Christ, is God’s indefectible gift to his Church. 

The first reading also makes clear, as we see from the imposition of hands on the first deacons, that the Church’s unity is “apostolic”. It is a visible unity, grounded in the Apostles whom Christ chose and appointed as witnesses to his resurrection, and it is born of what the Scriptures call “the obedience of faith” (Rom 1:5; cf. Acts 6:7). 

“Authority” … “obedience”. To be frank, these are not easy words to speak nowadays. Words like these represent a “stumbling stone” for many of our contemporaries, especially in a society which rightly places a high value on personal freedom. Yet, in the light of our faith in Jesus Christ – “the way and the truth and the life” – we come to see the fullest meaning, value, and indeed beauty, of those words. The Gospel teaches us that true freedom, the freedom of the children of God, is found only in the self-surrender which is part of the mystery of love. Only by losing ourselves, the Lord tells us, do we truly find ourselves (cf. Lk 17:33). True freedom blossoms when we turn away from the burden of sin, which clouds our perceptions and weakens our resolve, and find the source of our ultimate happiness in him who is infinite love, infinite freedom, infinite life. “In his will is our peace”.

Real freedom, then, is God’s gracious gift, the fruit of conversion to his truth, the truth which makes us free (cf. Jn 8:32). And this freedom in truth brings in its wake a new and liberating way of seeing reality. When we put on “the mind of Christ” (cf. Phil 2:5), new horizons open before us! In the light of faith, within the communion of the Church, we also find the inspiration and strength to become a leaven of the Gospel in the world. We become the light of the world, the salt of the earth (cf. Mt 5:13-14), entrusted with the “apostolate” of making our own lives, and the world in which we live, conform ever more fully to God’s saving plan. 

This magnificent vision of a world being transformed by the liberating truth of the Gospel is reflected in the description of the Church found in today’s second reading. The Apostle tells us that Christ, risen from the dead, is the keystone of a great temple which is even now rising in the Spirit. And we, the members of his body, through Baptism have become “living stones” in that temple, sharing in the life of God by grace, blessed with the freedom of the sons of God, and empowered to offer spiritual sacrifices pleasing to him (cf. 1 Pet 2:5). And what is this offering which we are called to make, if not to direct our every thought, word and action to the truth of the Gospel and to harness all our energies in the service of God’s Kingdom? Only in this way can we build with God, on the one foundation which is Christ (cf. 1 Cor 3:11). Only in this way can we build something that will truly endure. Only in this way can our lives find ultimate meaning and bear lasting fruit.

Today we recall the bicentennial of a watershed in the history of the Church in the United States: its first great chapter of growth. In these two hundred years, the face of the Catholic community in your country has changed greatly. We think of the successive waves of immigrants whose traditions have so enriched the Church in America. We think of the strong faith which built up the network of churches, educational, healthcare and social institutions which have long been the hallmark of the Church in this land. We think also of those countless fathers and mothers who passed on the faith to their children, the steady ministry of the many priests who devoted their lives to the care of souls, and the incalculable contribution made by so many men and women religious, who not only taught generations of children how to read and write, but also inspired in them a lifelong desire to know God, to love him and to serve him. How many “spiritual sacrifices pleasing to God” have been offered up in these two centuries! In this land of religious liberty, Catholics found freedom not only to practice their faith, but also to participate fully in civic life, bringing their deepest moral convictions to the public square and cooperating with their neighbors in shaping a vibrant, democratic society. Today’s celebration is more than an occasion of gratitude for graces received. It is also a summons to move forward with firm resolve to use wisely the blessings of freedom, in order to build a future of hope for coming generations.

“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people he claims for his own, to proclaim his glorious works” (1 Pet 2:9). These words of the Apostle Peter do not simply remind us of the dignity which is ours by God’s grace; they also challenge us to an ever greater fidelity to the glorious inheritance which we have received in Christ (cf. Eph 1:18). They challenge us to examine our consciences, to purify our hearts, to renew our baptismal commitment to reject Satan and all his empty promises. They challenge us to be a people of joy, heralds of the unfailing hope (cf. Rom 5:5) born of faith in God’s word, and trust in his promises. 

Each day, throughout this land, you and so many of your neighbors pray to the Father in the Lord’s own words: “Thy Kingdom come”. This prayer needs to shape the mind and heart of every Christian in this nation. It needs to bear fruit in the way you lead your lives and in the way you build up your families and your communities. It needs to create new “settings of hope” (cf. Spe Salvi, 32ff.) where God’s Kingdom becomes present in all its saving power. 

Praying fervently for the coming of the Kingdom also means being constantly alert for the signs of its presence, and working for its growth in every sector of society. It means facing the challenges of present and future with confidence in Christ’s victory and a commitment to extending his reign. It means not losing heart in the face of resistance, adversity and scandal. It means overcoming every separation between faith and life, and countering false gospels of freedom and happiness. It also means rejecting a false dichotomy between faith and political life, since, as the Second Vatican Council put it, “there is no human activity – even in secular affairs – which can be withdrawn from God’s dominion” (Lumen Gentium, 36). It means working to enrich American society and culture with the beauty and truth of the Gospel, and never losing sight of that great hope which gives meaning and value to all the other hopes which inspire our lives.

And this, dear friends, is the particular challenge which the Successor of Saint Peter sets before you today. As “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation”, follow faithfully in the footsteps of those who have gone before you! Hasten the coming of God’s Kingdom in this land! Past generations have left you an impressive legacy. In our day too, the Catholic community in this nation has been outstanding in its prophetic witness in the defense of life, in the education of the young, in care for the poor, the sick and the stranger in your midst. On these solid foundations, the future of the Church in America must even now begin to rise!

Yesterday, not far from here, I was moved by the joy, the hope and the generous love of Christ which I saw on the faces of the many young people assembled in Dunwoodie. They are the Church’s future, and they deserve all the prayer and support that you can give them. And so I wish to close by adding a special word of encouragement to them. My dear young friends, like the seven men, “filled with the Spirit and wisdom” whom the Apostles charged with care for the young Church, may you step forward and take up the responsibility which your faith in Christ sets before you! May you find the courage to proclaim Christ, “the same, yesterday, and today and for ever” and the unchanging truths which have their foundation in him (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 10; Heb 13:8). These are the truths that set us free! They are the truths which alone can guarantee respect for the inalienable dignity and rights of each man, woman and child in our world – including the most defenseless of all human beings, the unborn child in the mother’s womb. In a world where, as Pope John Paul II, speaking in this very place, reminded us, Lazarus continues to stand at our door (Homily at Yankee Stadium, October 2, 1979, No. 7), let your faith and love bear rich fruit in outreach to the poor, the needy and those without a voice. Young men and women of America, I urge you: open your hearts to the Lord’s call to follow him in the priesthood and the religious life. Can there be any greater mark of love than this: to follow in the footsteps of Christ, who was willing to lay down his life for his friends (cf. Jn 15:13)? 

In today’s Gospel, the Lord promises his disciples that they will perform works even greater than his (cf. Jn 14:12). Dear friends, only God in his providence knows what works his grace has yet to bring forth in your lives and in the life of the Church in the United States. Yet Christ’s promise fills us with sure hope. Let us now join our prayers to his, as living stones in that spiritual temple which is his one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. Let us lift our eyes to him, for even now he is preparing for us a place in his Father’s house. And empowered by his Holy Spirit, let us work with renewed zeal for the spread of his Kingdom.

“Happy are you who believe!” (cf. 1 Pet 2:7). Let us turn to Jesus! He alone is the way that leads to eternal happiness, the truth who satisfies the deepest longings of every heart, and the life who brings ever new joy and hope, to us and to our world. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, homily at Yankee Stadium, Bronx, New York, 20 April 2008]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

As the present century and millennium draw to a close, we see an unprecedented expansion of the means of social communications, with ever new products and services. We see the lives of more and more people being touched by the spread of new technologies of information and communication. Yet, there are still great numbers of people who have no access to the media, old or new.

Those who do benefit from this development experience an ever growing choice of sources. The greater the choice, the harder it may be to choose responsibly. The fact is that it is increasingly difficult to protect one's eyes and ears from images and sounds which arrive through the media unexpectedly and uninvited. It is particularly hard for parents to guard their children from unwholesome messages, and to ensure that their education in human relations and their learning about the world comes about in a way that is appropriate to their age and sensibility, and to their developing sense of right and wrong. Public opinion has been shocked at how easily the advanced communication technologies can be exploited by those whose intentions are evil. At the same time, can we not observe a relative slowness on the part of those who wish to do good to use the same opportunities?

We must hope that the gap between the beneficiaries of the new means of information and expression and those who as yet do not have access to them will not become another intractable source of inequity and discrimination. In some parts of the world voices are being raised against what is seen as domination of the media by so-called Western culture. Media products are seen as in some way representing values that the West holds dear and, by implication, they supposedly present Christian values. The truth of the matter may well be that the foremost value they genuinely represent is commercial profit.

In addition, the proportion of media programmes which deal with religious and spiritual aspirations, programmes which are morally uplifting and help people to live better lives, is apparently decreasing. It is not easy to remain optimistic about the positive influence of the mass media when they appear either to ignore the vital role of religion in people's lives, or when the treatment that religious belief receives seems consistently negative and unsympathetic. Some elements of the media - especially in the entertainment sectors - often seem to wish to portray religious believers in the worst possible light. Is there still a place for Christ in the traditional mass media? May we claim a place for Him in the new media?

In the Church, the year 1997, as the first part of a three-year period of preparation for the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, is being devoted to reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit (cf. Tertio Millennio Adveniente, 30). Appropriately therefore the theme of World Communications Day is "Communicating Jesus Christ: the Way, the Truth and the Life" (cf. Jn 14:6).

This theme provides an opportunity for the Church to meditate and act on the specific contributions which the communications media can offer in making known the Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ. It also provides an opportunity for professional communicators to reflect on how religious and specifically Christian themes and values can enrich media productions and the lives of those whom the media serve.

The modern media are addressed not only to society in general, but most of all to families, to young people and also to very young children. What "way" do the media point out? What "truth" do they propose? What "life" do they offer?

This is of concern not only to Christians, but to all people of good will.

The "way" of Christ is the way of a virtuous, fruitful and peaceful life as children of God and as brothers and sisters in the same human family; the "truth" of Christ is the eternal truth of God, who has revealed himself to us not only in the created world but also through Sacred Scripture, and especially in and through his Son, Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh; and the "life" of Christ is the life of grace, that free gift of God which is a created share in his own life and which enables us to live for ever in his love. When Christians are truly convinced of this, their lives are transformed. This transformation results not only in a credible and compelling personal witness but also in an urgent and effective communication - likewise through the media - of a living faith which paradoxically increases as it is shared.

It is consoling to know that all who bear the name Christian share this same conviction. With due respect for the communications activities of the individual Churches and Ecclesial Communities, it would be a significant ecumenical achievement if Christians could cooperate more closely with one another in the media as they prepare to celebrate the forthcoming Great Jubilee (cf. Tertio Millennio Adveniente, 41). Everything ought to focus on the primary objective of the Jubilee: the strengthening of faith and of Christian witness (ibid., 42).

Preparing for the 2000th Anniversary of the birth of the Saviour has become, as it were, the key to interpreting what the Holy Spirit is saying to the Church and to the Churches at this time (cf. ibid., 23). The mass media have a significant role to play in proclaiming and explaining this grace to the Christian community itself and to the world at large.

The same Jesus who is "the way, the truth and the life" is also "the light of the world" - the light that illumines our path, the light that enables us to perceive the truth, the light of the Son who gives us supernatural life here and hereafter. The two thousand years which have passed since the birth of Christ represent an extraordinary commemoration for humanity as a whole, given the prominent role played by Christianity during these two millennia (cf. ibid., 15). It is surely appropriate that the mass media should pay tribute to that contribution.

Perhaps one of the finest gifts which we could offer to Jesus Christ on the two thousandth anniversary of his birth would be that the Good News will at last be made known to every person in the world - first of all through the living witness of Christian example, but also through the media: "Communicating Jesus Christ: the Way, the Truth and the Life". May this be the aim and commitment of all who profess the uniqueness of Jesus Christ, the source of life and truth (cf. Jn 5:26; 10:10, 28), and who have the privilege and the responsibility of working in the vast and influential world of social communications.

From the Vatican, 24 January 1997

[Pope John Paul II, Message for the 31st World Day of Social Communications]

In today’s Gospel passage (cf. Jn 14:1-12), we hear the beginning of Jesus’ so-called “Farewell discourse”. They are the words he addresses to the disciples at the end of the Last Supper, just before facing the Passion. In such a dramatic moment Jesus began by saying, “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (v. 1). He says it to us too, in life’s troubles. But how can we ensure that our hearts are not troubled? Because the heart does become troubled.

The Lord indicates two remedies for being troubled. The first is: “Believe in me” (v. 1). It would seem to be rather theoretical, abstract advice. Instead, Jesus wants to tell us something precise. He knows that, in life, the worst anxiety, anguish, arises from the sensation of not being able to cope, of feeling alone and without points of reference when faced with events. We cannot overcome this anguish alone, when one difficulty is added to another. We need Jesus’ help, and this is why Jesus asks us to have faith in him, that is, to lean not on ourselves but on him. Because liberation from being troubled depends upon entrusting ourselves. Entrusting ourselves to Jesus, taking the “leap”. And this is liberation from feeling troubled. Jesus is risen and lives precisely to be always by our side. We can thus say to him, “Jesus, I believe that you rose again and are beside me. I believe that you listen to me. I bring to you what upsets me, my troubles; I have faith in you and I entrust myself to you”.

There is then a second remedy for being troubled, which Jesus expresses with these words: “My Father’s house has many rooms… I am going there to prepare a place for you” (v. 2). This is what Jesus did for us: he reserved a place in Heaven for us. He took our humanity upon himself to carry it beyond death, to a new place, to Heaven, so that we might also be where he is. It is the certainty that comforts us: there is a place reserved for each of us. 

There is a place for me too. Each of us can say: there is a place for me. We do not live aimlessly and without destination. We are awaited. We are precious. God is in love with us, we are his children. And he has prepared for us the most worthy and beautiful place: Paradise. Let us not forget this: the dwelling place that awaits us is Paradise. We are in transit here. We are made for Heaven, for eternal life, to live forever. Forever: it is something we cannot even imagine now. But it is even more beautiful to think that this forever will be entirely in joy, in full communion with God and with others, without any more tears, without resentment, without division or turmoil.

But how can we reach heaven? What is the way? Here is Jesus’ decisive phrase. He says to us today: “I am the Way” (v. 6). Jesus is the way to go up to Heaven: to have a living relationship with him, to imitate him in love, to follow in his footsteps. And I, a Christian, you, a Christian, every one of us Christians, can ask ourselves: “Which way do I follow?”. There are ways that do not lead to Heaven: the ways of worldliness, the ways of self-affirmation, the ways of selfish power. And there is Jesus’ way, the way of humble love, of prayer, of meekness, of trust, of service to others. It is not the way of my self-centredness. It is the way of Jesus, who is the protagonist of my life. It is to go forth every day, asking him: “Jesus, what do you think of the choice I made? What would you do in this situation, with these people?”. It will do us good to ask Jesus, who is the way, for the directions to reach Heaven. May Our Lady, Queen of Heaven, help us to follow Jesus, who opened Heaven for us.

[Pope Francis, Regina Coeli, 10 May 2020]

The Other Way, Truth, Life, in the human dimension

Jn 14:7-14 (6-14)

Divine hands have wounds of love, they are not claws. They tread the alternative «way» of work, of building and welcoming; a truly special, disinterested, unreflected trajectory.

Hands marked by what one wishes for the world: open, not clenched into a fist - if anything, with that gentle grip that says: «I am with You».

They accompany «the way» that makes the weak become strong. «Way» that expands our horizon to conquer the land of Freedom.

He is «the Truth». We know what happens to news when it passes from mouth to mouth: it becomes defaced.

But united with the True Person - intertwined with his story - we encounter ourselves, we know the divine ‘Fidelity’ [‘Truth’], we choose substance instead of conventional, conformist or volatile ideas (we would become external).

«I Am the Life». The Father expands and enhances inclinations, our existential reaching; He does not vampirize us as if He were the one who needs something.

He is the Totality of Being, and Source in action; springing of particular essences.

His Calling is Seed; a Root that characterizes and expands Life, making it singular, more distinctive; unique, unrepeatable; meaningful and relational.

To build an alternative society capable of creating well-being: smiles and amazement flowing out, cheering everyone up.

«Let us see the Father» (cf. vv.8-9) is the plea - often anonymous - that from the very beginning has accompanied the believers’ People, who spontaneously reveal their Lord as the Way, the Truth and the Life (v.6).

And the Church that reflects Christ is the ‘outgoing’ one, which does not become complacent about its static goals, but moves [precisely: «Way»] from Exodus to Exodus, to improve itself before correcting others.

The assembly of sons is therefore not afraid of becoming impure by frequenting the cultural and existential peripheries, because it has understood the authentic face of God.

Father, Mother, deep Core, Friend.

«Faithful» [«Truth», in the theological sense] who is not afraid to mix with earthly affairs.

He does not flee the critical scrutiny; nor does he abandon those who stray, or those who cannot bear conformist obligations, or who find themselves in penury.

Authentic community is capable of coexistence and reciprocity: that of «the Life» which shows Father and Son in act [Initiative and Correspondence].

In the Spirit, such a Family recovers each person's journey and restores wholeness, fullness of being without boundaries, even to those who have lost hope or self-esteem.

Difference with ancient religion? The Eternal is no longer revealed in the awesome power of sensational outward manifestations: fire, earthquake, thunders and lightnings.

God is not the preserve of those who show great energy.

In the hearths of Faith, the Person of Christ is made present in his being, in his troubled and real life [«in the Name»: vv.13-14].

It is in such a people that God dreams an immediate reflection of ideas, words, works; and mutual immanence.

For the efficacious event of the Father is all in the flesh of the Son. Their Dream, in the human dimension of believers.

[Saturday 4th wk. in Easter, May 2, 2026]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In the Constitution on Divine Revelation, Dei Verbum, the Second Vatican Council states that the intimate truth of the whole Revelation of God shines forth for us “in Christ, who is himself both the mediator and the sum total of Revelation” (n. 2). The Old Testament tells us that after the Creation — in spite of original sin, in spite of man’s arrogance in wishing to put himself in his Creator’s place — God once again offers us the possibility of his friendship, especially through the Covenant with Abraham and the journey of a small people, the People of Israel. He did not choose this people with the criteria of earthly power but simply out of love. It was a choice that remains a mystery and reveals the style of God who calls some, not in order to exclude the others, but so that they may serve as a bridge that leads to him. A choice is always a choice for the other. In the history of the People of Israel we can retrace the stages of a long journey during which God made himself known, revealed himself, and entered history with words and actions. In order to do this he used mediators, such as Moses, the Prophets and the Judges, who communicated his will to the people, reminding them of the requirement of faithfulness to the Covenant and keeping alive their expectation of the complete and definitive fulfilment of the divine promises.

At Holy Christmas we contemplated the realization of these very promises: the Revelation of God reaching its culmination, its fullness. In Jesus of Nazareth God really visited his people, he visited humanity in a manner that surpassed every expectation: he sent his Only-Begotten Son: God himself became man. Jesus does not tell us something about God, he does not merely speak of the Father but is the Revelation of God, because he is God and thus reveals the face of God. In the Prologue to his Gospel St John wrote: “no one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known” (Jn 1:18).

I would like to dwell on the phrase: “reveals God’s face”. In this regard St John, in his Gospel, records for us a significant event that we have just heard. When he was approaching the Passion, Jesus reassured his disciples, asking them not to be afraid and to have faith; he then begins a conversation with them in which he talks about God the Father (cf. Jn 14:2-9). At a certain point the Apostle Philip asked Jesus: “Lord, show us the Father, and we shall be satisfied” (Jn 14:8). Philip was very practical and prosaic, he even said what we ourselves would like to say: “we want to see him, show us the Father”, he asks to “see” the Father, to see his face. Jesus’ answer is a reply not only to Philip but also to us and it ushers us into the heart of Christological faith; the Lord affirmed: “he who has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9). These words sum up the newness of the New Testament, that newness which appeared in the Bethlehem Grotto: God can be seen, God has shown his face, he is visible in Jesus Christ.

The theme of the “quest for God’s face”, the desire to know this face, the desire to see God as he is, is clearly present throughout the Old Testament, to the extent that the Hebrew term pānîm, which means “face”, recurs 400 times, and refers to God 100 times. One hundred times it refers to God: to the wish to see God’s face is expressed 100 times. Yet the Jewish religion absolutely forbids images, for God cannot be portrayed as, on the contrary, he was portrayed by the neighbouring peoples who worshipped idols; therefore with this prohibition of images the Old Testament seems totally to exclude any “seeing” from worship and from devotion. Yet what did seeking God’s face mean to the devout Israelite, who knew that there could be no depiction of it? The question is important: there was a wish on the one hand to say that God cannot be reduced to an object, like an image that can be held in the hand, nor can anything be put in God’s place; on the other, it was affirmed that God has a face — meaning he is a “you” who can enter into a relationship — and who has not withdrawn into his heavenly dwelling place, looking down at humanity from on high. God is certainly above all things, but he addresses us, he listens to us, he sees us, he speaks to us, he makes a covenant, he is capable of love. The history of salvation is the history of God with humanity, it is the history of this relationship of God who gradually reveals himself to man, who makes himself, his face, known.

At the very beginning of the year, on 1 January, we heard in the liturgy the most beautiful prayer of blessing upon the people: “May the Lord Bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine on you, and be gracious to you. May the Lord uncover his face to you and bring you peace (Num 6:24-26). The splendour of the divine face is the source of life, it is what makes it possible to see reality; the light of his face is guidance for life. In the Old Testament there is a figure with whom the theme of “the face of God” is connected in a special way: Moses. The man whom God chose to set his people free from slavery in Egypt, giving him the Law of the Covenant and leading him to the Promised Land. Well, in Chapter 33 of the Book of Exodus it says that Moses had a close and confidential relationship with God: “The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend” (v. 11). By virtue of this trust, Moses was able to ask God: “show me your glory”, and God’s response was clear: “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you my name”…. But he said “you cannot see my face; for man shall not see me and live.… There is a place by me.... You shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen” (vv. 18-23). Thus on the one hand there was the face-to-face conversation as between friends, but on the other, the impossibility in this life of seeing the face of God which remained hidden; sight is restricted. The Fathers said that these words, “you shall see my back”, meant you can only follow Christ and in following him you see the mystery of God from behind; God can be followed by seeing his back.

Something completely new happened, however, with the Incarnation. The search for God’s face was given an unimaginable turning-point, because this time this face could be seen: it is the face of Jesus, of the Son of God who became man. In him the process of the Revelation of God, which began with Abraham’s call, finds fulfilment in the One who is the fullness of this Revelation, because he is the Son of God, he is both “the mediator and the sum total of Revelation” (Dogmatic Constitution Dei Verbum, n. 2), the content of Revelation and the Revealer coincide in him. Jesus shows us God’s face and makes God’s name known to us. In the Priestly Prayer at the Last Supper he says to the Father: “I have manifested your name to the men... I made known to them your name” (cf. Jn 17:6; 6, 26). The phrase: “name of God”, means God as the One who is present among men and women. God had revealed his name to Moses by the burning bush, that is, he had made it possible to call on him, had given a tangible sign of his “being” among human beings. All this found fulfilment and completion in Jesus: he inaugurated God’s presence in history in a new way, because whoever sees him, sees the Father, as he said to Philip (cf. Jn 14:9). Christianity, St Bernard said, is the “religion of God’s word”; yet “not a written and mute word, but an incarnate and living” (Homilia Super Missus Est, 4, 11: pl 183, 86b). In the patristic and medieval tradition a special formula is used to express this reality: it says that Jesus is the Verbum abbreviatum (cf. Rom 9:28, with a reference to Is 10:23), the abbreviated Word, the short and essential Word of the Father who has told us all about him. In Jesus the whole Word is present.

In Jesus too the mediation between God and man attains fulfilment. In the Old Testament there is an array of figures who carried out this role, in particular Moses, the deliverer, the guide, the “mediator” of the Covenant, as he is defined in the New Testament (cf. Gal 3:19; Acts 7:35; Jn 1:17). Jesus, true God and true man, is not simply one of the mediators between God and man but rather “the mediator” of the new and eternal Covenant (cf. Heb 8:6; 9:15; 12:24); “for there is one God”, Paul says, “and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim 2:5 cf. Gal 3:19-20). In him we see and encounter the Father; in him we can call upon God with the name of “Abba, Father”; in him we are given salvation.

The desire to know God truly, that is, to see God’s face, is innate in every human being, even in atheists. And perhaps we unconsciously have this wish simply to see who he is, what he is, who he is for us. However this desire is fulfilled in following Christ, in this way we see his back and, in the end, we see God too as a friend, in Christ’s face we see his face. The important thing is that we not only follow Christ in our needy moments or when we find a slot in our daily occupations, but in our life as such. The whole of our life must be oriented to meeting Jesus Christ, to loving him; and, in our life we must allocate a central place to loving our neighbour, that love which, in the light of the Crucified One, enables us to recognize the face of Jesus in the poor, in the weak and in the suffering. This is only possible if the true face of Jesus has become familiar to us through listening to his word, in an inner conversation with him, in entering this word so that we truly meet him, and of course, in the Mystery of the Eucharist. In the Gospel of St Luke the passage about the two disciples of Emmaus recognize Jesus in the breaking of bread is important; prepared by the journey with him, by the invitation to stay with them that they had addressed to him and by the conversation that made their hearts burn within them, in the end they saw Jesus. For us too the Eucharist is the great school in which we learn to see God’s face, we enter into a close relationship with him; and at the same time we learn to turn our gaze to the final moment of history when he will satisfy us with the light of his face. On earth when we are walking towards this fullness, in the joyful expectation that the Kingdom of God will really be brought about. Thank you.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 16 January 2013]