Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles [29 June 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. A special remembrance on this Sunday for Pope Leo XIV and his difficult ministry in this time of grave human and spiritual crisis in the world.

*First reading from the Acts of the Apostles (12:1–11)

Jesus was probably executed in April 30. At first, his disciples were very few and did not cause any trouble, but the situation became complicated when they began to perform healings and miracles. Peter was imprisoned twice by the religious authorities: the first time with John, which ended with an appearance before the court and threats; the second time with other apostles whom Luke does not name, who were miraculously freed by an angel (Acts 5:17-20). The religious authorities then had Stephen killed and unleashed a real persecution that drove the most threatened Christians, called 'Hellenists', to leave Jerusalem for Samaria and the Mediterranean coast. James, Peter, John and the rest of the Twelve remained in Jerusalem. In today's episode, the political powers imprison Peter under Herod Agrippa, who reigned from 41 to 44 AD. The nephew of Herod the Great, who reigned at the time of Jesus' birth, Herod Agrippa was careful not to displease either the Roman authorities or the Jews, so much so that it was said that he was Roman in Caesarea and Jewish in Jerusalem. However, in trying to please both sides, he could only be an enemy of the Christians, and it was in this context that, in order to ingratiate himself with the Jews, he had James (son of Zebedee) executed and Peter imprisoned. Peter miraculously escaped again, but what interests Luke much more than Peter's personal fate is the mission of evangelisation: if angels come to free the apostles, it is because the world needs them and God will not allow any power to hinder the proclamation of the Gospel. A historical note: The Jews, reduced to slavery and threatened with outright genocide, were miraculously freed several times and over the centuries proclaimed to the world that this liberation was always the work of God. Unfortunately, in a mysterious reversal, it can happen that those who are charged with proclaiming and accomplishing God's work of liberation end up becoming accomplices to a new form of domination, as happened to Jesus, victim of the perversion of the religious power of his time.  Luke, in his account of Jesus' death and resurrection, highlighted this paradox: it was in the context of the Jewish Passover, the memorial of the liberating God, that the Son of God was put to death by the defenders of God. However, the love and forgiveness of the 'meek and humble' God had the last word: Jesus rose from the dead. And now, in turn, the young Church finds itself facing persecution by religious and political powers, just like Jesus, and once again, this takes place in the context of the Jewish Passover, in Jerusalem. Peter was arrested during the week of Easter, which begins with the Passover meal and continues with the week of Unleavened Bread. The words the angel says to Peter resemble the orders given to the people on the night of the exodus from Egypt (Ex 12:11): "Get up quickly! Put on your belt and your sandals." Luke makes it clear that God is continuing his work of liberation, and the entire account of this miracle is written in the style and with the vocabulary of Christ's passion and resurrection. The scenarios are similar: it is night, there is a prison, there are soldiers, Peter is asleep unlike Jesus, but for both of them the light of God acting rises in the night. In the darkness of trial, Christ's promise to Peter does not fail, because the forces of death and evil will not prevail. The Church, in the throes of history, often repeats Peter's profession of faith: "Now I know that the Lord has sent an angel and rescued me from Herod's hand" (v. 11).

*Responsorial Psalm (33/34, 2-9)

"The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them." We sing this psalm after hearing the story of Peter's liberation, knowing that the whole young Church was praying for him. "This poor man cries, and the Lord hears him": faith is crying out to God and knowing that he hears us, as he heard the cry of the community, and Peter was freed. However, Jesus did not escape death on the cross, and Peter, once again a prisoner in Rome, would also be killed. It is often said that everything will be resolved through prayer, but this is not the case, because even those who pray and make novenas and pilgrimages do not always obtain the grace they ask for. So does God sometimes not listen, or when we are not answered as we would like, is it because we have prayed badly or not enough? The answer lies in three points: 1. Yes, God always hears our cry; 2. He responds by giving us his Spirit; 3. He raises up brothers and sisters beside us. 1. God always hears our cry. In the episode of the burning bush (Ex 3), we read: 'God said to Moses, "Yes, I have seen the misery of my people in Egypt, and I have heard their cry under the blows of their overseers. Yes, I know their sufferings." The true believer knows that the Lord is close to us in suffering because he is "on our side," as we read here in Psalm 33/34: I sought the Lord, and he answered me... he delivered me... he hears... he saves... his angel encamps around those who fear him, and he is a refuge. 2. God answers us by giving us his Spirit, as we understand when we listen to what Jesus says in Luke's Gospel: "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, it will be opened. Which of you, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will he give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him. God does not magically make all our worries disappear, but he fills us with his Spirit, and prayer opens us to the action of the Spirit who gives us the strength to change the situation and overcome the trial. We are no longer alone: we read in the responsorial psalm that 'This poor man cries, and the Lord hears him; he saves him from all his troubles... I sought the Lord, he answered me and delivered me from all my fears' (vv. 6-7). Believing that the Lord hears us dispels fear and makes anguish vanish. 3. God raises up brothers and sisters beside us. When, in the episode of the burning bush, God says that he has seen the misery of the people in Egypt and heard their cry, he inspires Moses to free the people: "Now, since the cry of the Israelites has come to me... go, I am sending you to Pharaoh. Bring my people out of Egypt" (Ex 3:9-10). How many times in the experience of suffering has God raised up the prophets and leaders that the people needed to take their destiny into their own hands. Ultimately, the responsorial psalm expresses the historical experience of Israel, where faith appears as a twofold cry: man cries out his anguish like Job, and God always listens and frees him. Man then prays in thanksgiving like Israel, who, despite a thousand vicissitudes, never lost hope, singing: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be in my mouth. My glory and my praise is the Lord; let the poor hear and be glad" (vv. 2-3).

*Second reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to Timothy (4:6-8, 17-18)

It is thought that the two letters to Timothy were perhaps written a few years later by a disciple of Paul, but everyone agrees that the text we read today is his; indeed, it represents his testament and his last farewell to Timothy. Imprisoned in Rome, Paul is aware that he will be executed and that the moment of his great departure has come, certain that he must appear before God. He therefore looks back on his past, from when Christ seized him like a sword on the road to Damascus, and takes stock of his life using four flashbacks that clearly outline the itinerary of his mission. 1. The first image is linked to worship: "I am already being poured out as a drink offering" (v. 6), alluding to an ancient cult practice called libation, which consisted of pouring a liquid (wine, oil, water, milk or honey) as a sacred offering, symbolising the total gift of life to the deity. Paul uses this image to say that his existence is a total sacrifice to Christ. 2. The second image is linked to navigation: "the time has come for me to leave this life" (v. 6). Paul knows that his journey is almost over after storms and problems of all kinds. He chose the Greek word 'analusis' (dissolution, liberation), used in nautical and military contexts to indicate the loosening of the ropes that hold a ship anchored so that it can set sail for the open sea, and in military contexts to indicate the dismantling of tents in a camp when soldiers leave for a new mission. Paul means that his life is about to be freed from earthly ties to set sail for his homeland, the house of the Father. 3. The third image is linked to the struggle, not violent but internal and spiritual, to evangelise: 'I have fought the good fight' (v. 7). His life is marked by struggles, persecutions, bitter confrontations and betrayals, yet, as he writes later, he has always been delivered "from the lion's mouth" (v. 17). 4. The fourth image is connected to sport: "I have finished the race" (v. 7). The race run in ancient stadiums is a symbol of the Christian who never abandons the missionary path and, at the end, if he keeps the faith, receives the "crown" that the Lord reserves for the true disciples of Christ. This race is not a competition between athletes because each one advances at his own pace towards Christ and "his manifestation". And so, like Jesus and Stephen, at the moment of his execution, Paul forgives those who abandoned him, certain of the Lord's power to deliver him from all evil. And the real danger from which God preserved him is that of renouncing his mission until death. However, this is not a reason for boasting, because he knows that God saved him, and for this reason he sings the song of glory as he is born into true life: 'To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.'

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (16:13-19)

This episode marks a turning point in the life of Jesus and Peter because as soon as Simon proclaims who Jesus is, he receives from him the mission for the Church. Christ builds his Church on a man whose only virtue is that of having proclaimed what the Father revealed to him: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (v. 16). This means that the only true pillar of the Church is his faith in Christ, who immediately responds: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church" (v. 18). This famous "Petrine" text is built on three symbols: The first is the "rock" that is linked to the Aramaic name Kefa: "You are Peter". In Greek: "Σὺ εἶ Πέτρος (Petros)" means "you are Peter" or "Rock". Jesus changes Simon's name to Peter, giving him a new mission and identity. In the Semitic context, changing a name indicates a change in a person's destiny and reality. Simon thus becomes the rock on which Christ lays the foundation of the Church, which remains his and of which he is forever the irreplaceable "cornerstone." In ancient times, stone was a symbol of stability and security, so building on stone means building on a firm and immovable foundation, and on Peter the Lord begins to give visible form to his community. He promises that his Church, founded on this rock—faith and Peter's mission (see v. 6)—will resist the forces of evil, and Peter thus becomes the first visible shepherd of the community, even though the true foundation and eternal Shepherd is Christ (cf. 1 Cor 3:11). The second symbol is the keys: 'I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven'. The keys, a sign of authority and responsibility over a house, are an effective image of the power that Christ transmits to Peter. Entrusting the keys is equivalent to conferring the power to open and close, to allow or deny access. Peter is not the founder and ruler of a kingdom, but the immediate leader who exercises delegated power by guiding the community of believers, teaching and making binding decisions in matters of faith and morals. The third symbol is expressed in the twofold action of binding and loosing: "Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (v. 19). The expressions "to bind" and "to loose" were common in rabbinic language and indicated the power to declare something lawful or unlawful, to permit or prohibit certain actions. Applied to Peter, they emphasise his authority to make doctrinal and disciplinary decisions in full fidelity to the word of God (Jn 20:23), an authority he shares in the Church with the other apostles (Mt 18:18), even though Peter retains a unique and pre-eminent role. Finally, Jesus says, 'I will build my Church': it is therefore he who builds and guides the Church that remains forever his, so that we can walk safely because 'the powers of hell will not prevail against it' (v. 18).

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Victory of the Risen Lord, without hysteria

(Jn 20:24-29)

The Gospel passage has a liturgical flavour, but the question we glimpse in the watermark is crude. We too want «to see Him».

How to believe without having seen?

It is the most common question starting from the third generation of believers, who not only hadn’t known the Apostles, but many of them not even subsequent pupils.

In particular: how do we go from «seeing»… to «believing» in a defeated, even subjected to torture?

There is an authentic Church, but held together by fear (v.19).

Not only because the arrest warrant always hangs over the real witnesses.

Also out of fear of confrontation with the world, or inability to dialogue.

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside the barred doors.

He does not withdraw into himself; he does not dread the encounter, the confrontation with life that pulsates and comes.

In this sense he is «said to be the twin» [δίδυμο] of each one - and of Jesus.

Our context resembles that of the Johannine realities of Asia Minor, lost in the immensity of the Roman Empire; small churches sometimes seduced by its attractions.

Ephesus in particular had hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.  Commercial emporium, banking center and major cosmopolitan city [whose centerpiece was of course the great Temple of Artemis - wonder of the ancient world] was the fourth city of the empire.

Distractions were many.

And already from the first generations of faithful the routine began to take over: the fervor of the beginnings was dying out; participation became sporadic.

Under Domitian, believers suffered social marginalization, discrimination.

Even today, one of the decisive elements of the ability to manifest the Risen One Present remains the direct encounter with sisters and brothers, within a living fraternity.

People who welcome surprises and encourage the ability to think and debate; who are themselves and make others breathe.

Women and men who spend their material resources and wisdom, according to particular history and sensitivity.

Where each one as he is and where is - real in the round, not dissociated from himself - becomes food for others with the crumbs he has.

Here then is the «recognize»: it’s a question not of obedience to an abstract world, but of personal Likeness.

It’s a matter of attuning the “physiognomy” and our small «actions» with the Source of Love consumed to the end [our «finger» and its «Hands»;  our «hand» and his «pierced Side»].

Even with our limitation, 'by entering into the wounds'. And by attraction, Faith will spring forth spontaneously (v.28).

Thus (vv.29-31 and 21:25) Jn invites each one to write his own personal Gospel.

When our works are at least a little the same as Christ's, everyone will ‘see’ Him.

So is there any evidence that Jesus lives?

Of course. He concretely manifests Himself in an assembly of non-conformist people, who are themselves; endowed with the capacity for autonomous thinking skills.

«Twins» of Him and of Thomas.

People Free to live in the world; outside locked doors - to listening, descending, serving.

And doing it with conviction: personally, without forcing or hysteria.

We too want to «see» Him.

[St. Thomas the Apostle, July 3rd]

Thomas: without hysteria

(Jn 20:19-31)

The Manifestation, the Spirit, the remission

(Jn 20:19-23)

The Johannine Pentecost does not suffer any temporal delay (v.22), yet the Lucan account also emphasises the link with Easter, of which it is but a further specification.

Pentecost is not a matter of a date, but rather an event that happens without ceasing, in the assembled assembly; where a joy-filled Peace is made present, which founds the Mission.

Jesus did not assure easy life. But the "closed doors" indicate that the Risen One has not returned to his former existence: he has been introduced into the divine condition, into a total form of life.

The complete configuration of his being is not in the order of flesh and bones; it eludes our senses.

'Resurrection of the flesh' is not the same as the improvement of the previous condition. From a man [as from a seed] there has blossomed a form of life that subsists in God himself.

The disciples rejoice at seeing the wounds (v.20). The reaction is not surprising: it is the perception-vertigo of Presence, springing up and pouring out from inner senses.

The Risen One who reveals Himself is the same Jesus who delivered the gift of life, in the Spirit.

The Father's World bears his Name - that is, his whole history, all real.

The heavenly World no longer remains that of religions. It is not exclusive, nor is it fanciful or abstract; nor is it sterilised.

The Manifestation is placed on "the one of the Sabbaths" (v.19) to say that the disciples can meet and see the Risen One every time they come together on the Lord's Day.

Thanks to the Gift of the Spirit (v.22) his disciples are sent on Mission, to continue and expand the work of the Master - insisting in particular on the work of remission of sins (v.23).

At the time, there was a widespread conception that men acted badly and allowed themselves to be defiled by idols, because they were driven by an unclean instinct that began to manifest itself at an early age.

One was under the illusion that one could overcome or at least keep such an evil spirit at bay with the study of the Torah - but it was easy to see the failures: the indications of the Law, though right, did not give the strength to follow that path.

After so many failures even of kings and the entire priestly class, it was expected that God Himself would come, precisely to deliver us from impurities, through the outpouring of a good impulse.

Throughout the ancient world [also in classical culture: especially Ovid] people wondered about the meaning of this creaturely block.

Inwardly, humanity was caught and torn between intuition and desire for goodness, and inability to realise it (cf. Rom 7:15-19).

No religion or philosophy had ever guessed that it is in the discomfort and imperfection that the most precious mouldable energies, our uniqueness, and the non-conformist solution to problems lie.

Through the mouth of the Prophets, God had promised the gift of a new heart - of flesh and not of stone (Ez 36:25-27).

An outpouring of the Spirit that would renew the world, enliven the desert and make it fruitful.

On Easter Day, the prophecies were fulfilled.

The "breath" of Christ recalls the moment of Creation (Gen 2:7; cf. Ez 37:7-14).

We are at the origin of a new humanity of generating mothers and fathers - now able to bring forth only life, eliminating death from the face of the earth.

Jesus creates the new man, no longer a victim of the invincible forces that lead him to evil, despite his profound aspirations.

He transmits an enterprising, clear, alternative, self-confident energy that spontaneously drives to goodness.

Where this Spirit reaches, sin is annihilated.

It was the first experience of the Church: the unmistakable action of divine power, which became present and operative in people who were fearful and disregarded.

Throughout the book of Acts of the Apostles, the protagonist is precisely the impetuous Wind of the Spirit.

Up to this point, the concept of forgiveness of sins was missing in John. But the meaning of the expression in v.23 is not strictly sacramental.

Neutralising and defeating defaults concerns everyone who gets involved in the work of improving life in the world.

In short, we are called to create the conditions so that by tilling the soil of hearts, everyone is opened to divine action.

Conversely, the inability to do good drags on: in this way, sin is not 'remitted'.

The Shalôm received by the disciples is to be announced by them and transmitted to the world.

It is a Peace that is not the fruit of worldly, cunning compromises: the only powerful means to be used is forgiveness.

Not so much for tranquillity and 'permanence', but to introduce unknown powers, to accentuate life, to bring to the surface aspects we have not given space to; to transmit a sense of adequacy and freedom.

In each and all times, the Church is called upon to make the complete and personal Gratis of the Lord effective.As a Gift in the Spirit: without ever "holding back" (v.23) the problems, nor making them paradoxical protagonists of life [even of assembly].

Such the priestly, royal and prophetic dimension of the fraternal Community. Such is its Newness.

Victory of the Risen One, Church of free people

Without hysteria

(Jn 20:24-31)

The passage has a liturgical flavour, but the question that we discern in the watermark is stark. We too want to "see".

How can we believe without having seen?

And even how could the identification of the sufferer with the bliss experienced, and the divinity itself, go without saying?

This is the most common question from the third generation of believers, who had not only not got to know the Apostles, but many of them not even their pupils.

The evangelist assures us: compared to the first witnesses of the Resurrection, our condition is not disadvantaged at all, on the contrary: more open and less subject to conditioning or special circumstances.

We must go deeper than immediate experience.

Even the direct disciples struggled, trying to move to another vocabulary and grammar of revelation; and from 'seeing', to 'believing'.

There are unfortunately common traits, e.g. the search for Magdalene in the places of death. Or here the carefully barred doors, where one does not enter without forcing the closures - but above all significant deviations.

In particular, we reiterate the burning question. How do we go from 'seeing'... to 'believing' in a defeated, even subjected to torture?

We do not believe, just because there are truthful witnesses.

We are certain that life supersedes death, because we have 'seen' first-hand; because we have gone through a personal recognition.

For He does not make Himself a leader, but repeatedly "in the midst" (vv.19.26).

In the collection of the Manifestations of the Risen One [so-called "Book of the Resurrection"] Jn designates the conditions of Easter Faith.

He sets out the witnessing experiences of the first churches (morning and evening, and eight days later) as well as of the disciples who accept the missionary mandate.

Then as now, perceiving the realities hidden to the simple gaze, internalising the readiness to make an exodus to the peripheries, depends on the depth of the Faith.

Nor does the readiness to stake one's life on building a kingdom of upside-down values compared to common, ancient, imperial religious values.

At the time the Thomas episode is written, the dimension of the eighth day [Dies Domini] already had a prevailing configuration, compared to the Sabbath of the early, radically Judaizing Messianics.

"Shalôm" is, however, still understood in the ancient sense: it is not a wish, but the present fulfilment of the divine Promises.

Messianic "Peace" would have evoked the undoing of fears, liberation from death; reconciliation with one's life, the world, and God.

"Shalôm" - here - comes to surprise us: it comes from the gift of self carried to the end; beyond, the capacity.

Wounds are part of the character of the Risen One.

Any image that does not make explicit the signs of the excessive gratuitousness of the new kingdom inaugurated by Christ [even the gilded bronze sculpture in the Sala Nervi] is misleading.

Joy comes from the perception of the Presence 'beyond' biological life.

Our happiness is diminished and lost if we lose the Witness of life - through whom every slightest gesture or state of mind (even fear) becomes unveiling, meaning, intensity of relationship.

By going out into the world, the Sent Ones embrace the same mission as Jesus: that all may be saved.

And the gift of the working Spirit is precisely like the beginning of a new creation.

In fact, the Johannine Pentecost springs from the unprecedented and genuine perspective of salvation: loving, serene, not "whole", nor forced.

On closer inspection, according to the book of Acts, Peter's preaching provokes a ruckus of conversions. In Jn everything is conversely discreet: no roar or fire and storm; nothing appears from outside, nor does it remain external.

These are apostles empowered to open locked doors, and to arrange the conditions of gratuitousness.

This with passive rather than active virtues; e.g. 'forgiveness', where there is none. 

In this way, all gratuitousness to lift people out of any trouble, so that good triumphs over evil and life over death.

All in the concrete, therefore through a process that demands time; like walking a Way.

Intensity of a very 'different' nature, to which our contemplation alone is suitable - in comparison with the more propaganda and less collected literature of Acts 2, where the reflections of disbelief and doubt disappear.

As if the identity of the crucified Jesus and the Risen One were of no concern whatsoever!

And in the Fourth Gospel the concept of "forgiveness of sins" was missing so far.

But precisely it is necessary to pass from ocular "vision" to Faith.The new way of life of the Son is known in the life of the Church, but it is best and fully accessible only to those who, although a little inside and a little outside, do not remain closed.

Thomas is chosen by Jn as the junction point between generations of believers.

Like each of us, he is not an indifferent sceptic: he is not afraid of the world, rather he wants to verify, to scrutinise well.

In him, Jesus launches his appreciation towards future believers, who will recognise his divine status on the basis of their own experience - as profound as it is intensely lived.

There is perhaps an elite part of the authentic Church, yet held together by fear (v.19).

Not only because the warrant of arrest always hangs over the true witnesses. Also because of fear of confrontation with the world, or incapacity for dialogue.

Even today: fear of culture, science, Bible studies, emancipation, philosophical, ecumenical, interreligious confrontation; and so on.

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside barred doors.

He does not retreat and does not fear the encounter, the relationship with life that pulsates and comes.

In this sense he is 'said to be the twin' [δίδυμο] of each one - and of Jesus.

Our context resembles that of the small Johannine realities of Asia Minor, lost in the immensity of the Roman empire; sometimes seduced by its attractions.

Ephesus in particular had hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.

A commercial emporium, banking centre and major cosmopolitan city [the centrepiece of which was of course the great Temple of Artemis - wonder of the ancient world] it was the fourth city of the empire.

The distractions were many.

Already in the first generations of believers routine began to set in: the fervour of the beginnings was fading; participation became sporadic.

Under Domitian, believers also suffered marginalisation and discrimination.

Some believers were then disappointed by the closed and monologue attitude of community leaders. Others by ambiguous internal grey areas and the mixture of compromises (especially of the leaders) that discouraged the most sensitive.

Even today, one of the discriminating elements of the ability to manifest the Risen One Present remains the direct encounter with the brothers, within a living solidarity.

Coexistence not held hostage by confined circles, which only integrate members on the nomination of those already in office.

People who welcome surprises and stimulate the capacity for thought and debate.

Women and men who are themselves, and make others breathe.

Not indoctrinated and plagiarised gullible people - or spineless sophisticates.

Sisters and brothers who spend their material resources and wisdom, according to particular history and sensibilities.

Where each one as he is and where he is - real in the round, not dissociated from himself - makes himself food for others with the crumbs he has.

Here then is 'recognition': it is a question not of obedience to an abstract world, but of personal likeness.

It is a matter of attuning our physiognomy and our little 'actions' to the Source of Love consumed to the full [our 'finger' and His 'Hands'; our 'hand' and His 'pierced side'].

Even with our limitation, 'entering into the wounds'. By attraction, Faith will spring forth spontaneously (v.28).

Thus (vv.29-31 and 21,25) Jn invites each one to write his own Gospel.

When our works are at least a little the same as Christ's, everyone will 'see' him.

Is there, then, evidence that Jesus lives?

Certainly, He manifests Himself concretely in an assembly of non-conformist people; who are themselves.

Souls endowed with the capacity for autonomous thought. 'Twins' of Himself and of Thomas.

Free creatures to be in the world; outside locked doors - to listen, to descend, to serve.

And to do so with conviction: personally, without forcing or hysteria.

We, too, want to "see Him".

Proverbial scene of the doubting Thomas that occurred eight days after Easter is very well known. At first he did not believe that Jesus had appeared in his absence and said:  "Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe" (Jn 20: 25).

Basically, from these words emerges the conviction that Jesus can now be recognized by his wounds rather than by his face. Thomas holds that the signs that confirm Jesus' identity are now above all his wounds, in which he reveals to us how much he loved us. In this the Apostle is not mistaken.

As we know, Jesus reappeared among his disciples eight days later and this time Thomas was present. Jesus summons him:  "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing" (Jn 20: 27).

Thomas reacts with the most splendid profession of faith in the whole of the New Testament:  "My Lord and my God!" (Jn 20: 28). St Augustine comments on this:  Thomas "saw and touched the man, and acknowledged the God whom he neither saw nor touched; but by the means of what he saw and touched, he now put far away from him every doubt, and believed the other" (In ev. Jo. 121, 5).

The Evangelist continues with Jesus' last words to Thomas:  "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20: 29). This sentence can also be put into the present:  "Blessed are those who do not see and yet believe".

In any case, here Jesus spells out a fundamental principle for Christians who will come after Thomas, hence, for all of us.

It is interesting to note that another Thomas, the great Medieval theologian of Aquinas, juxtaposed this formula of blessedness with the apparently opposite one recorded by Luke:  "Blessed are the eyes which see what you see!" (Lk 10: 23). However, Aquinas comments:  "Those who believe without seeing are more meritorious than those who, seeing, believe" (In Johann. XX lectio VI 2566).

In fact, the Letter to the Hebrews, recalling the whole series of the ancient biblical Patriarchs who believed in God without seeing the fulfilment of his promises, defines faith as "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Heb 11: 1).

The Apostle Thomas' case is important to us for at least three reasons:  first, because it comforts us in our insecurity; second, because it shows us that every doubt can lead to an outcome brighter than any uncertainty; and, lastly, because the words that Jesus addressed to him remind us of the true meaning of mature faith and encourage us to persevere, despite the difficulty, along our journey of adhesion to him.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 27 September 2006]

The Upper Room in Jerusalem too was a kind of “school of faith” for the Apostles. However, in a sense, what happened to Thomas goes beyond what occurred near Caesarea Philippi. In the Upper Room we see a more radical dialectic of faith and unbelief, and, at the same time, an even deeper confession of the truth about Christ. It was certainly not easy to believe that the One who had been placed in the tomb three days earlier was alive again.

The divine Master had often announced that he would rise from the dead, and in many ways he had shown that he was the Lord of life. Yet the experience of his death was so overwhelming that people needed to meet him directly in order to believe in his resurrection: the Apostles in the Upper Room, the disciples on the road to Emmaus, the holy women beside the tomb. . . Thomas too needed it. But when his unbelief was directly confronted by the presence of Christ, the doubting Apostle spoke the words which express the deepest core of faith: If this is the case, if you are truly living despite having been killed, this means that you are “my Lord and my God”.

In what happened to Thomas, the “school of faith” is enriched with a new element. Divine revelation, Jesus’s question and man’s response end in the disciple’s personal encounter with the living Christ, with the Risen One. This encounter is the beginning of a new relationship between each one of us and Christ, a relationship in which each of us comes to the vital realization that Christ is Lord and God; not only the Lord and God of the world and of humanity, but the Lord and God of my own individual human life.

[Pope John Paul II, vigil at Tor Vergata, 19 August 2000]

We have to get out of ourselves and go onto the streets of mankind to discover that the wounds of Jesus are still visible today on the bodies of all those brothers and sisters who are hungry, thirsty, naked, humiliated, enslaved, in prison and in hospital. And precisely by touching these wounds, by caressing them, it is possible to 'adore the living God in our midst'.

The anniversary of the feast of St Thomas the Apostle offered Pope Francis the opportunity to return to a concept that is particularly close to his heart: putting his hands into the flesh of Jesus. The gesture of Thomas putting his finger into the wounds of the risen Jesus was in fact the central theme of the homily given during the Mass celebrated this morning, Wednesday 3 July, in the chapel of the Domus Sanctae Marthae. Concelebrating with the Pope, among others, was Cardinal Jean-Louis Tauran, president of the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue, who accompanied a group of employees of the dicastery.

After the readings (Ephesians 2:19-22; Psalm 116; John 20:24-29), the Holy Father first of all dwelt on the different attitudes taken by the disciples "when Jesus, after the resurrection, showed up": some were happy and cheerful, others doubtful.

Unbelieving was also Thomas to whom the Lord showed himself only eight days after that first apparition. "The Lord," said the Pope in explaining this delay, "knows when and why he does things. To each one he gives the time he thinks most opportune". To Thomas he gave eight days; and he wanted the wounds to still appear on his own body, even though it was "clean, beautiful, full of light", precisely because the apostle, the Pope recalled, had said that if he did not put his finger in the Lord's wounds he would not believe. "He was a stubborn man! But the Lord,' the Pontiff commented, 'wanted precisely a stubborn man to make us understand a greater thing. Thomas saw the Lord, he was invited to put his finger in the plague of nails, to put his hand in his side. But then he did not say, 'It is true, the Lord is risen'. No. He went further, he said: 'My Lord and my God'. He was the first of the disciples to make the confession of Christ's divinity after the resurrection. And he worshipped him'.

From this confession, the bishop of Rome explained, we understand what God's intention was: exploiting unbelief led Thomas not so much to affirm the resurrection of Jesus, but rather his divinity. "And Thomas," said the Pope, "worships the Son of God. But to adore, to find God, the Son of God had to put his finger in the wounds, put his hand at his side. This is the path'. There is no other.

Of course 'in the history of the Church,' the Pontiff continued in his explanation, 'there have been some mistakes on the path to God. Some have believed that the living God, the God of Christians" could be found by going "higher in meditation". But this is "dangerous; how many get lost on that path and do not arrive?" the Pope said. "They arrive, yes, perhaps, at the knowledge of God, but not of Jesus Christ, Son of God, second Person of the Trinity," he pointed out. They do not arrive at that. It is the path of the Gnostics: they are good, they work, but that is not the right path, it is very complicated" and does not lead to a good end.

Others, continued the Holy Father, "have thought that to reach God we must be good, mortified, austere and have chosen the path of penance, only penance, fasting. Even these have not arrived at the living God, at Jesus Christ the living God". These, he added, "are the Pelagians, who believe that by their own effort they can arrive. But Jesus tells us this: 'On the way we saw Thomas. But how can I find Jesus' wounds today? I cannot see them as Thomas saw them. You find the sores of Jesus by doing works of mercy, by giving to the body, the body and also the soul, but I emphasise to the body of your brother who is soiled, because he is hungry, because he is thirsty, because he is naked, because he is humiliated, because he is a slave, because he is in prison, because he is in hospital. Those are the wounds of Jesus today. And Jesus asks us to make an act of faith in him through these wounds'.

It is not enough, the Pope added, to establish "a foundation to help everyone", nor to do "many good things to help them". All this is important, but it would only be the behaviour of philanthropists. Instead, Pope Francis said, "we must touch the wounds of Jesus, we must caress the wounds of Jesus. We must tend the wounds of Jesus with tenderness. We must literally kiss the wounds of Jesus". St Francis' life, he recalled, changed when he embraced the leper because he "touched the living God and lived in adoration". "What Jesus asks us to do with our works of mercy," the Pontiff concluded, "is what Thomas had asked: to enter into the wounds.

[Pope Francis at s. Marta, in L'Osservatore Romano of 04.07.2013]

Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ [22 June 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! At a time when it seems that the Eucharist is not always at the centre of Christian life, this day invites us to reflect and to place at the heart of our priestly life the daily worthy celebration of the Eucharist and the adoration that prepares for it and continues its contemplation throughout the day.   

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (14:18-20)

Melchizedek is mentioned only twice in the Old Testament: here in the Book of Genesis and in Psalm 109/110, which we also read this Sunday. This character will play an important role for those who were waiting for the Messiah, and even more so among Christians, so much so that he is also mentioned in a Eucharistic prayer. Abraham meets Melchizedek on his return from a victorious expedition. The Bible rarely recounts the celebrations after a military victory, but here there is celebration, and much later, this story is given great importance. These are the facts: a war breaks out between two small coalitions, five against four, and the king of Sodom is among the combatants, but neither Melchizedek nor Abraham are directly involved at the beginning. The king of Sodom is defeated and Lot, Abraham's nephew, is taken prisoner among his subjects. Abraham, upon hearing this, rushes to free him along with the king of Sodom and his subjects. The king of Sodom thus becomes Abraham's ally. At this point, Melchizedek (whose name means 'king of righteousness') intervenes, perhaps for a meal of alliance, but the biblical author does not specify this and, indeed, from this point onwards, focuses the narrative on the figure of Melchizedek and his relationship with Abraham. We have very unusual information about Melchizedek in the Bible: he has no genealogy, he is both king and priest, whereas for many centuries in Israel this was not supposed to happen; he is king of Salem, probably the city that later became Jerusalem when David conquered it to make it his capital; the offering he brings consists of bread and wine and not animals, as will be the sacrifice offered by Abraham, recounted in Genesis 15.  Melchizedek blesses the Most High God and Abraham, who gives him a tithe (a tenth of the spoils of war), and with this gesture recognises his priesthood. These are all details that have clear significance for the sacred author, who focuses on the relationship between royal power and the priesthood: for example, this is the first time the word 'priest' appears in the Bible, and Melchizedek has all the characteristics of a priest: he offers a sacrifice, pronounces a blessing in the name of 'the Most High God who created heaven and earth' and receives a tithe of Abram's goods. There is complete silence about Melchizedek's origins: the Bible attaches great importance to the genealogy of priests, but we know nothing about Melchizedek, the first on the list, and he seems timeless. However, the fact that he is recognised as a priest means that a priesthood existed before the legal establishment of the priesthood in Jewish law linked to the tribe of Levi, son of Jacob and great-grandson of Abraham. In other words, there were priests who were not descended from Levi and therefore 'according to the order of Melchizedek', in the manner of Melchizedek. No exegete can say with certainty who wrote this text, when, or for what purpose. It may date back to the time when the dynasty of David seemed to have died out and a different Messiah was beginning to emerge: no longer a king descended from David, but a priest, capable of bringing the blessing of the Most High God to the descendants of Abraham. Melchizedek, "king of justice and king of peace", is considered an ancestor of the Messiah, as we see more clearly in Psalm 109/110. Abraham was not yet circumcised when he was blessed by Melchizedek, and in the controversies of the early communities formed by circumcised Jews and pagans, Christians deduced that it was not necessary to be circumcised to be blessed by God. Finally, in the offering of bread and wine, which seals a covenant meal, we Christians recognise Christ's gesture in continuity with God's plan. At every Eucharist, we repeat Melchizedek's gesture, accompanying the offering of bread and wine with the words "Blessed are you, God of the universe, from your goodness we have received the bread (wine) that we offer you..."

*Responsorial Psalm (109/110:1-4)

Some of these verses from the psalm are addressed to the new king of Jerusalem on the day of his coronation, a ritual that subtly expressed the expectation of the Messiah, and it was hoped that every newly crowned king would be the Messiah. The ceremony took place in two stages, first in the Temple, then inside the royal palace in the throne room. When the king arrived at the Temple escorted by the royal guard, a prophet placed the diadem on his head and handed him a scroll called 'the Testimonies', i.e. the document of the Covenant concluded by God with the descendants of David containing formulas applied to each king: 'You are my son, today I have begotten you', 'Ask of me and I will give you the nations for your inheritance', and this document also revealed his new name (cf. Isaiah 9:5). The priest anointed him, and the ritual in the Temple ended with the acclamation called "Terouah," a war cry transformed into an ovation for the new king-leader. The procession then wound its way to the Palace, and along the way, the king stopped to drink from a spring, symbolising the new life and strength he had to take on to triumph over his enemies. Once at the palace, the second part of the ceremony took place in the throne room. At this point, today's psalm begins: the prophet speaks on behalf of God, using the solemn formula: 'Oracle of the Lord to my lord', which should be read as 'word of God to the new king'. In the Bible, we find the expression 'to sit on the throne of kings', which means 'to reign'. The new king is invited to climb the steps of the throne and sit down: 'Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool'. Enemy warriors in chains are carved or engraved on the steps of the throne: thus, as he climbs the steps, the king will place his foot on the necks of these soldiers, a gesture of victory and a harbinger of his future victories. This is the meaning of the first verse, to make his enemies the footstool of his feet. The expression 'at my right hand' once had a concrete, topographical meaning: in Jerusalem, Solomon's palace is located south of the Temple (therefore to the right of the Temple, if one faces east), so God reigns invisibly above the Ark in the Temple and the king, sitting on his throne, will be at his right hand. Then the prophet hands the sceptre to the new king; and this is the second verse: 'The sceptre of your power extends from Zion; you rule in the midst of your enemies'. The handing over of the sceptre is a symbol of the mission entrusted to the king, who will rule over his enemies by joining the long line of kings descended from David, who in turn was the bearer of the promise made to David. The king is only a mortal man, but he bears an eternal destiny because God's plan is eternal. This is probably the meaning of the following verse, which is somewhat obscure: "The principality is yours on the day of your power (i.e. the day of your coronation) among holy splendours (you are clothed in the holiness of God and therefore in his immortality). From the womb of the dawn like dew, I have begotten you," a way of saying that it has been planned by God since the dawn of the world. The king remains mortal but, in the faith of Israel, the descendants of David, foreseen from eternity, are immortal. In the same sense, the following verse uses the expression 'forever': 'You are a priest forever', the future king (i.e. the Messiah) will therefore be both king and priest, mediator between God and his people. Here we have proof that, in the last centuries of biblical history, it was thought that the Messiah would also be a priest. Finally, the psalm specifies: priest "according to the order of Melchizedek" because there was the problem that one cannot be a priest unless one is descended from Levi. How can this Law be reconciled with the promise that the Messiah would be a king descended from David of the tribe of Judah and not from Levi? Psalm 109/110 provides the answer: he will be a priest, yes, but in the manner of Melchizedek, king of Salem, who was both king and priest long before the tribe of Levi existed. Psalm 109/110 was sung in Jerusalem during the Feast of Tabernacles to remember God's messianic promises: evoking a scene of enthronement, it was precisely these promises that were thought of in order to keep the hope of the people alive. Rereading this psalm in the New Testament, a new depth was discovered: Jesus Christ is truly that priest 'forever', mediator of the definitive Covenant, victor over man's worst enemy, death. St Paul says this in his first letter to the Corinthians: 'The last enemy to be destroyed will be death, for he has put everything under his feet'.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (11:23-26)

St Paul reveals here the true meaning of the word 'tradition': a precious deposit faithfully handed down from generation to generation. If we are believers today, it is because, for over two thousand years, Christians in every age have faithfully handed on the deposit of faith as in an unbroken relay race. Transmission is faithful when the tradition of the Lord is preserved, as St Paul writes: "I have received from the Lord what I have handed on to you". Only this faithful transmission builds the Body of Christ throughout human history, since it is not the transmission of intellectual knowledge, but of the mystery of Christ, and fidelity is measured by our way of life. This is why Paul is concerned with correcting the bad habits of the Corinthians and affirms that living in fraternal communion is directly connected with the mystery of the Eucharist. Paul writes: Jesus "on the night he was betrayed, took bread". "He was betrayed": Just as he was misunderstood and betrayed, handed over into the hands of his enemies, Jesus "took bread, gave thanks, broke it and said...". He thus has the strength to turn the situation upside down and, from a path of death, performs the supreme gesture of the Covenant between God and humankind, echoing his words: "No one takes my life from me. I lay it down of my own accord" (Jn 10:18). He transforms a context of hatred and blindness into a place of love and sharing: "My body is given for you", a body given for our liberation, and the effectiveness of this gift is linked to the biblical concept of "memorial": "Do this in memory of me".  "This cup is the new covenant in my blood." This formula centres on the theme of the new covenant, taken from Jeremiah (31:31-34) and established not with blood shed on the people (Ex 24), but with his blood and in the Holy Spirit. Here we can understand what forgiveness is, the perfect gift given beyond hatred, pure love that transforms death into a source of life. Only forgiveness is this miracle, and we repeat it in every Eucharist: 'Mystery of faith'. "For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death": we proclaim his death, a testimony of love to the extreme, as the Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation reminds us: "his outstretched arms mark the indelible sign of the Covenant" between God and humanity. "We proclaim his death": we commit ourselves to the great work of reconciliation and covenant inaugurated by Jesus. "Until he comes": we are the people of expectation that we proclaim in every Eucharist, and if Jesus invites us to repeat this prayer so often, it is to educate us in the hope that means becoming impatient for his Kingdom in joyful expectation of his coming. Finally, Paul says "until he comes" and not until he returns because Christ has not left us; he is with us until the end of the world (cf. Mt 28:20). Indeed, he never ceases to come because he is a working presence who progressively realises the great divine plan since the creation of the world and asks us to collaborate in it.

NOTE. The last words of the Bible, in Revelation, are precisely "Come, Lord Jesus." The beginning of the book of Genesis spoke to us of the vocation of humanity, called to be the image and likeness of God, and therefore destined to live in love, dialogue and sharing, just as God himself is Trinity. The last word of the Bible tells us that the plan is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, and when we say 'Come, Lord Jesus', we invoke with all our strength the day when he will gather us from the four corners of the world to form one Body.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (9:11b-17)

 For the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, we read the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, in which Luke certainly wants to emphasise the link with the Eucharist by describing Jesus' gestures with the same words as the Eucharistic liturgy: "He took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven, recited the blessing over them, broke them and gave them to the disciples": a clear allusion to the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24:30). Jesus is announcing the kingdom of God, preaching the Gospel and performing miracles. The multiplication of the loaves takes place in this context: it is evening, the disciples are worried about the crowd and suggest sending everyone away so that they can find food for themselves in the surrounding area. Jesus does not accept this solution because the Kingdom of God is a mystery of communion. He is not satisfied with "every man for himself" and proposes his own solution: "You yourselves give them something to eat". But how? Five loaves and two fish, the apostles reply, are only enough for a family, not for five thousand men. Jesus does not want to put them in difficulty, but if he tells them to feed them themselves, it is because he knows they can do it. The disciples respond by offering to go and buy bread, but Jesus has another solution: "Have them sit down in groups of about fifty." He chooses the "solution of gathering" because the Kingdom of God is not an indistinct crowd, but a community of communities. Jesus blessed the loaves, recognising bread as a gift from God to be used to serve the hungry. Recognising bread as a gift from God is a true programme of life, and this is the meaning of the "preparation of the gifts" during Mass. It was formerly called the "offertory," and the liturgical reform of the Second Vatican Council replaced it with the "preparation of the gifts" to help us better understand that it is not we who give something of our own, but rather it is the 'preparation of God's gifts'. By bringing bread and wine, symbols of the entire cosmos and of humanity's work, we recognise that everything is a gift and that we are not masters of what God has given us (both material goods and physical, intellectual and spiritual riches), but only administrators. This gesture, repeated at every Eucharist with faith, transforms us, making us truly stewards of our riches for the good of all. It is precisely in this gesture of generous self-emptying that we can find the courage to perform miracles: when he tells his disciples, "Give them something to eat," Jesus wants them to discover that they have unsuspected resources, but on condition that they recognise everything as a gift from God. Before the hungry of the whole world, he also says to us: "Feed them yourselves," and, like the disciples, we have resources that we are unaware of, provided that we recognise that what we possess is a gift from God and that we are only administrators who reject the "logic of dispersion," that is, thinking only of our own interests. The link between this multiplication of the loaves and the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ thus becomes clear. The three synoptic Gospels recount the institution of the Eucharist on Holy Thursday evening, and Luke adds the Lord's command, "Do this in memory of me," but St John offers us another key: he relates the washing of the feet with Jesus' command to the disciples to do the same. Here, then, are two inseparable ways of celebrating the memorial of Christ: sharing the Eucharist and placing oneself at the service of others.

+Giovanni D'Ercole